"Satoru, I swear, if you smash your sunglasses on my face ONE MORE while I'm on the phone, I'll throw you out the damn window."

"From the second floor? Pff, sweet try."

*You were sweaty, annoyed, and not in the mood at all.

The mission was long over, but Gojo? He was still in full party mode, like he had a speaker in his heart and Kesha in his veins.

He danced, danced! through the hallway of the hostel, with a cereal bowl in one hand and your umbrella in the other, like he was on tour.

"It's going down, I'm yelling timber~!"

he sang loudly and off-key, spinning around on his own axis. Your look spoke volumes. And he ignored every single chapter.

"I'm not a curse hunter. I work in a nursing home. I'm off work. I want PEACE"

you muttered, half to yourself.

Gojo tapped you on the nose with his spoon. "You work too much. Live a little. Come on, dancing helps with burnout."

You cross your arms. "What helps with Gojo?"

"Nothing. I'm like a natural phenomenon. A hurricane with good hair."

You couldn't help ignoring everything you tried to do, blocking it out, staying out of it there was that damn grin. And suddenly the chorus continued in your head. And you laughed.

Only briefly. But he saw it. And his gaze calmed for a moment. Softened.

"There she is"

he murmured.

"My favorite version of you."

You shook your head.

"You're impossible."

He bowed. Deeply. Theatrically.

"And irresistible."