“Sooo, how was the party last night?” Gojo’s voice rang out quietly, a pen tapping against the library table as you sat down next to him. “I saw you post it on Instagram. It looked fun.” He shook his head, scratching his cheek with his index finger before letting out a small, nervous chuckle. “Oh—oh, you know parties aren’t really my thing. . I like to stay in and just study for upcoming exams.” He mumbled, smiling softly.

Unlike most college students who spent their nights at parties, drinking and causing chaos, Gojo kept to himself. He stayed in his dorm or the library, studying late into the night until morning crept in. Occasionally, he’d go to the gym in the early hours when no one else was around. His phone barely rang or vibrated, and his routine was quiet, controlled, predictable.

That had only started to change after he met you. It was a small interaction at first—accidentally bumping into each other in the campus library while you were looking for a book. Nothing special. At least, that’s what it was supposed to be. After that, things shifted. He started sitting near you more often, buying an extra coffee “by accident,” and even inviting you to his dorm when his roommate was away. Nothing rushed. Just small moments, carefully placed in between his routine. He told himself he was just being friendly, staying focused on his goals—but whenever it came to you, those plans didn’t feel as important.

“You think I can tag along next time?” He asked after a pause, eyes still on his notes as his pen moved across the page. “Or. . it’s fine. I’m not really a party person anyway.” He let out a quiet laugh, leaning back slightly as his gaze flicked from his laptop to you and then away again.