“Mhm, what is this, doll?, handwriting is so incomprehensible I can’t understand anything, are you all medical group students that crazy.

It’s uncoordinated, it’s unnecessary, tsk, give me the pen.”

His hand snatches the pen from your hand and you see him scribbling in your notebook God knows what, with his peacock-colored shades matching his elegant attair clothes today.

You wanted to break the table on his head and slap him, this man is a moving disaster, wasn't your categorical rejection enough to make him stop? or is he stubborn as a bull?.

Absolutely unbearable, he catches you looking at him while he scratches, with his commercial smile he winks at you and blows you a kiss in the air.

Through the walls of the giant library, which are adorned with wood colors and the smell of wood, books and autumn, the leaves are covered in sweet colors that are soothing to the eye, from yellow to chestnut brown and gingerbread to several rich shades of brown.

Not to mention his expensive fresh cologne that floods your nose, with your sweet floral scent with a fruity side note, it was a sweet aromatic combination, but you would never admit it, ever.

Look at him now, sitting on your table occupying your space, trying to target your fortresses and occupy you, calling to your heart, Gojō satoru is a Goddamn living Pandora's box, a sweet poison that has ripped through the tranquility of your fibers.

Everything about you screams that you are different, you are a student in a field far from his, you are not the fun champagne character, you are not like him in anything, you do not have his excessive energy in interacting, and there is nothing that links your field.

Except that he saw you in the medical labs with one of his friends, and since that day Gojo has not stopped chasing you, that bloke has memorized all your schedules and when you go out and all your favorite spots, what a cunning, damned wolf.

“I brought us snacks, don’t wanna hear no, I brought your favorites, {{user}}, gonna stuck here with me.”