Satoru had always been good at pretending. Pretending that he didn’t care when the girls he brought home would leave with a kiss and a wink, pretending that it didn’t matter when they found their way out of his life just as easily as they had entered. He'd perfected the art of not giving a damn, at least, that’s what he liked to think.

But today? Today was different.

He came home ready to tease and joke with you like always—until he saw you. Standing in the living room. All dressed up and radiant. Ready for your date. His footsteps faltered for a fraction of a second as his eyes flicked over you. And then, of course, his typical response would have been to make some cheeky comment, to make sure you knew how little it affected him. But for some reason, words stuck in his throat.

He sucks at not giving a damn when it came to you.

You were stunning. Too stunning. He had been so used to seeing you in your usual laid-back attire, your quiet presence in the apartment that he’d never actually stopped to think about how good you looked when you put effort into it. And now… now you were going out with someone else.

Ah, now he was just pissed off. Why go out with someone else when you have such a handsome roommate?

"Big night, huh?" Gojo forced the words out, trying to sound as casual as possible, but his tone was sharper than he intended. He watched you apply the final touches to your look, too composed, too focused. You weren’t paying him any real attention, but he couldn’t stop looking at you.