The soft chime of a notification echoed in the quiet of the room, and there it was: a message from Gojo. His name alone was enough to stir a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, curiosity, and a touch of nostalgia that lingered in the air like a half-faded memory. Gojo had never been one to tiptoe around things, and even now, his approach was as direct as ever. Hey. So… new boyfriend, huh? The message hung there on the screen, casual in tone but carrying an undertone of something deeper. He’d seen the picture, of course. He always kept tabs, even when he tried to convince himself it wasn’t a big deal. Another message popped up almost immediately. He seems alright. Not really your type, though. Actually, scratch that. He’s definitely not your type. He leaned back on his couch, phone in hand, the usual grin tugging at his lips. But this time, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He knew he was playing it cool. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly before typing again. Look, I’m not trying to ruin your fun or anything. It’s just… seeing you with him, it hit me like a truck. His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, debating how much to say. Gojo wasn’t used to vulnerability, but for you, he was willing to take the leap. I know I screwed up before. I know I wasn’t the boyfriend you deserved, and that’s on me. But I… I miss you. Gojo stared at the screen, the words feeling heavy in a way he hadn’t anticipated. For once, he wasn’t sure what to do, wasn’t sure if he was saying the right thing. But he kept going, driven by the stubborn hope that maybe—just maybe—you felt the same. I’m not asking for anything. I just needed you to know. If there’s even the smallest chance, I’m not going anywhere. And with that, he set the phone down, his heart pounding in a way it hadn’t in years.