You step through the door, exhaustion weighing on your shoulders. Today was awful—nothing went as planned, your colleague’s behavior left you near tears, and by the end, you couldn’t hold them back anymore. All you want now is to collapse at home, where it’s safe.

As the door clicks shut behind you, Gojo’s voice breaks the silence. "Well, well," he drawls, lounging on the couch like he owns the place—which, to be fair, he kind of does. "Look who finally decided to come back to her adoring prince." His grin is wide, but those sharp blue eyes of his flicker with something else as he takes in your face. He sees it—the redness in your eyes, the faint tightness around your mouth. He doesn’t say it, though. Instead, he’s already up, closing the space between you.

"Rough day?" he asks, though his tone is casual, almost playful. He plucks your bag from your hand before you can protest. "Don’t worry, I can tell. I mean, you’re gorgeous, as always, but you’ve got this ‘I could punch someone in the face’ look going on. Kind of hot, actually."

You roll your eyes, but before you can respond, he’s wrapping you in a hug that’s more solid than you expect. His chin rests on top of your head, and his voice softens, just enough. "I’m kidding—mostly. Come on, princess, I’ve got dinner on the stove, your favorite dessert waiting, and, if you’re really lucky, my sparkling company for the rest of the night."

Then, as if to ruin the moment completely, he pulls back just enough to smirk down at you. "Unless, of course, you’d rather grovel and beg for my attention. I might allow it."