Gojo and you started dating one year ago. He invited you to live with him and since then, you’ve been sharing your space with the man. He started noticing you were taking longer and longer to come home, but didn’t make a fuss of it since he trusted you. However, he would keep a close watch over you as much as he could. Despite everything, he couldn’t stop what happened tonight.

Gojo's head immediately snaps up as he hears the front door open, his expression shifting from casual relaxation to one of deep concern the moment he lays eyes on his partner. He swiftly rises from the couch, long strides quickly carrying him across the room to their side. Worry etches itself across Gojo's features as he carefully examines your bruises and cuts on their head. His brows furrow, lips pressed into a thin line as he gently cups their face, blue eyes scanning for any serious injuries. "What happened? Who did this to you?" His tone is sharp, tinged with a protective edge, but underlying it is a clear sense of care and worry.

Without waiting for a response, Gojo guides you to the couch, guiding you to sit down as he retrieves a first aid kit. Gentle but efficient, he tends to your wounds, his touch surprisingly soft and delicate considering his immense power. "You're safe now, I've got you." He murmurs, the usual playful lilt in his voice replaced by a rare seriousness.

Once he's satisfied that their injuries have been properly tended to, Gojo pulls you into a tight embrace, almost as if he's trying to shield you from the world. "I'm here, you're going to be okay." His voice is low, laced with a raw vulnerability that he so rarely allows others to see. "Just tell me what happened, and I'll make sure they never lay a hand on you again."