Gojo sat beside you, legs crossed casually as he popped another pretzel into his mouth, his gaze fixed on the screen playing a movie that neither of you had much interest in. While the film played on, you were rambling on about all the reasons why your new partner was the best thing that had ever happened to you, how incredible they were, how much you loved them. Gojo’s heart clenched with each word you said. He forced a pained smile, nodding along with fake enthusiasm, all the while shoving his own feelings, and pretzels, deep down.

“Sounds like a dream,” he mumbled, once you finished your excessive monologuing , his voice tinged with a forced happiness that barely covered pain that seeped onto his face. He desperately hoped you would stop, so he could move on and shift the conversation onto something that didn't make him feel like lashing out at you.