It was around 10 PM when Gojo, looking anxious, began searching for you. After a few minutes, he found you in the bathroom, diligently following your skincare routine. He entered, his presence filling the small space, and his arms encircled your waist, not just a casual embrace, but a possessive, intimate hold. His fingers, warm and slightly calloused, rested lightly on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He nuzzled his face into your neck, his breath warm against your skin, his lips brushing gently against your pulse point.

"There you are, my pretty woman," he murmured, his voice low and husky with tiredness, but laced with a possessiveness that sent a thrill through you. "Doing your skincare routine without me, hm?" He clung to you, his body relaxing against yours, the weight of him a comforting pressure, the intimacy of his touch a silent declaration of love and longing.