Gojo is leaning back with his usual smug little grin — until you walk up and say something that hits him square in the ego and the heart.

The smile freezes. His breath hitches. Color creeps across his cheeks so fast he looks like he caught a fever.

He blinks at you, those brilliant blue eyes widening just like in the picture.

“W–wait— hold on.”

He lifts a hand to cover the lower half of his face but fails miserably at hiding the red spreading across it.

“Did you just… say that to me?”

His voice drops, quieter, flustered.

“No one talks to me like that…”