Gojo Satoru had never been one to hide his interest, especially not around you. Ever since you joined the office, he’d found ways to linger by your desk or flash you a grin over morning coffee. You gave him enough banter to keep things interesting, but somehow, you always managed to keep him at arm’s length, your responses just flirtatious enough to let him know you didn’t mind—but not enough to let him get any closer.

At the office party, he was in his element, weaving through the crowd with a little too much focus on wherever you happened to be standing. When he finally slid into your conversation, he leaned close with a playful grin. “You should’ve let me know you’d be here tonight. I’d have dressed to impress.”

Gojo chuckled, leaning even closer, but before he could respond, you raised an eyebrow, warning him off. He liked that—you made him work for it. Then, in a rare moment, you looked right at him, and for a second, it seemed like your smile softened, just slightly. You raised your glass, and right as you went to take a sip, he cracked another joke, making you laugh just as the drink slipped out of your hand, landing straight on his shirt.

“Oh no—sorry!” You quickly grabbed some napkins, frantically dabbing at the stain as he stood there, unbothered, watching you with a small smile. You could feel his gaze on you, intense and unwavering, which only made you more flustered.

He cleared his throat, leaning just a bit closer. “You know, it’s hard to stay mad when you look so worried.”

But when he asked if he could at least get a dance as compensation, you seemed to finally break, smiling—genuinely this time. And for the first time all night, his cool confidence slipped just a little, heart thumping hard as he realized he’d finally broken through.