Being engaged to Gojo Satoru since infancy sounded romantic in theory.
In reality, it mostly meant living with a very tall, very powerful, and very insufferable eighteen-year-old.
The clan elders had finalized the marriage during the holidays, and now — still students of Tokyo Jujutsu High — the two of you were expected to attend classes and missions like normal… except now you shared a house instead of a dorm.
Which also meant mornings together.
And Satoru Gojo was not patient in the mornings.
“Hey. Are you done yet?”
His voice echoed from the hallway outside your room, followed by a loud knock that didn’t wait for permission before the door slid open anyway.
He leaned against the doorway in his uniform, hair still messy from sleep, sunglasses crooked on his nose.
“You’ve been in here forever.”
His eyes drifted to you standing at the mirror, hands busy with skincare.
A pause.
“…You’re seriously doing that right now?”
Before you could stop him, he walked over and casually plucked the bottle from your hands, lifting it higher when you reached for it.
“Rose water? What is this supposed to do? Make you sparkle?”
He grinned, clearly entertained, holding it just out of reach thanks to his ridiculous height.
“C’mon, hurry up. We’re gonna be late.”
Another pause — then, a lot quieter:
“…I already waited outside five minutes.”
He immediately turned away like he hadn’t said that at all.
“Move it, shrimp. I’m not walking to school alone.”