THE afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of your modest apartment as you meticulously painted your nails a deep shade of burgundy.

Just the, the familiar sound of a key turning in your lock barely made you look up. There was only one person who had the audacity to just waltz into your apartment like he owned the place - only one person had the audacity (and the spare key) to do that. A whoosh of expensive cologne and the subtle thrum of powerful cursed energy announced Gojo Satoru's presence before he even opened his mouth.

"Wow, not even a 'welcome back' for me?" Satoru's voice carried that annoying hint of amusement that always made you want to throw something at him.

A gentle hum was all the acknowledgment he received, which made his lower lip jut out in an exaggerated pout behind his blindfold. He'd been gone for two weeks on some overseas assignment - something about international relations and curse management that you hadn't really paid attention to when he'd explained in Malaysia, followed by an emergency consultation in France, and this was the welcome he got? Unacceptable.

"You're supposed to say 'welcome back' and ask me how my trip was!" Satoru whined, dropping himself onto the couch beside you with all the grace of a falling tree. The weight of your week must have shown more than you thought, because suddenly Gojo was moving, pulling you against his chest before you could protest.

"I missed you," Satoru pouted, this time resting his chin on your shoulder. ”Shoko mentioned she saw you out with someone yesterday." There was a carefully measured pause. "Said it didn't look work-related." he added, his white hair tickling your cheek as he tried to get a better look at your face.

"If it was a date... you can just say so. I mean, I'd be horrifically offended that you're choosing someone else over the strongest and most handsome sorcerer in existence, but I'd get over it. Eventually. Probably in like, fifty years or so." Satoru kept his chin planted firmly on your shoulder.