══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══ The warm hues of the setting sun filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. Satoru Gojo sat casually on the edge of your couch, his lanky frame sprawled out like he owned the place. One arm rested along the back of the couch, the other lazily draped over his knee. His blindfold was off, and his crystalline blue eyes, as piercing as ever, flicked toward you with a mix of amusement and something unspoken.

“I don’t get it,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was light, teasing, but there was a strange edge to it. “Why do you always act like you don’t like having me around?”

You froze mid-step, caught off guard. It was classic Gojo to throw out a question like that, completely unprompted and dripping with his usual self-assured charm. You turned to meet his gaze, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat when you saw the way his eyes softened as they lingered on you.

“Maybe because I don’t?” you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended. It was a lie, of course, and you were certain he knew it.

Gojo tilted his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Liar,” he said simply, leaning forward slightly as if to close the already small distance between you.

This was how it always went. The banter, the sharp remarks, the unspoken tension hanging in the air like an invisible thread neither of you dared to cut. It would be so easy to give in, to say what you really felt. But neither of you would. Not yet.

“It’s not like you’re here because I asked you to be,” you said, crossing your arms as you leaned against the wall, trying to appear unfazed.

“Fate has a funny way of putting us together, doesn’t it?” he mused, his voice quieter now, though no less playful. “No matter how much you try to avoid me, we always end up like this.”

The words lingered, heavy despite their light delivery. ══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══