(I'ma give you the world! I'ma buy a diamond ring for you, I'ma sing for you, I'll do anything for you to see you smile!)

You could swear you could hear crickets with how the silence hung. At the doorstep of your dorm stood Satoru Gojo, your sensei and (more often than) sometimes a real pain in the ass.

His grin was outright blinding. So much, you wanted to turn away, actually. Gojo pushed his shades up to his forehead, looking down at you. The audacity? Seconds prior he dared to give you a sweater — a sweater from a ridiculously expensive brand — and to your questions he responded with:

"You whined about being cold on the last mission, no?"

Inhale, exhale. A second to pinch your nose bridge. Another second to calm down. You didn't want to go ballistic now. Not when he was smiling so innocently, expecting gratitude for being such a caring teacher of yours!

Honestly, a small eye twitch was present, you wouldn't deny it.

"So? You like it?" Satoru asked, getting impatient. He needed to hear your approval — or disapproval, though he'd rather get some praise than criticism.