𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 (𝓖𝓸𝓳𝓸 𝔁 𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻)

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word count: 1,673

< a/n: long time no see! school got crazy again lmao >

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐞𝐭, 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. Shadows danced along the half bare trees as a breeze rifled through the remaining leaves, knocking a few to the ground with each gust. There was a sense of dissonance, and a feeling of want, both of which couldn't describe a certain sorcerer's mindset any better. It had been five hours since Gojo had dropped y/n off at the studio and he was itching to hear from her again.

He started up the steps with a paper bag in his hands, giving the white framed door a quick tap or two before pulling on the handle.

Satoru no longer wore his jujutsu uniform, now donning a grey sweatshirt and matching pants of the same material. Tinted sunglasses replaced his blindfold and his ivory hair no longer stood up like it was being withheld by gravity itself.

"Heya, Jiro," he loudly announced to the boy who sat behind a wood carved desk. His fingers were busy at work- surprisingly- polishing the once filmy jars used for storage.

Jiro sighed as he looked to see Gojo standing in the entrance to Oasis. Setting his dirtied rag down, he propped his chin on his wrist.

"Y/n told me you'd be coming by again today."

"Seeing her face only one time in a day is simply not enough," Gojo replied, clasping his large hands together.

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

"You simply don't understand the passionate fire of love, Jiro." He spun around in a lovesick circle.

The younger man furrowed his brow with annoyance.

"I literally have a boyfriend."

"Oi, shush and agree with your elders."

Jiro pretended to gag before returning to his work. "Yeah whatever, old man. She's in the back."

"Thank you good sir," Gojo gave him a mini salute before skipping away.

She was standing by the largest window in the studio, one arm cradling the other. Her eyes- though barely visible from the angle which Satoru stood- were closed, her long eyelashes nearly brushing her face. Her demeanor could easily be mistaken for complete peace, yet there was something off. Wrong. Perhaps it was the way her lips down turned in such a slight motion it was almost subconscious, or how her breathing rose and fell a bit too slowly.

Satoru tried to pay it no mind, setting the bag down and going up behind her. He placed his hands over her eyes while propping his chin on her head.

"Guess who," he whispered, though it trailed into a small laugh.

Y/n only gave him a little hum of recognition, not needing any other hint.

"I knew you'd get here soon," she smiled, reaching her hands to his wrists. With an electrifying touch, she spun herself around, hands thumbing along his.

Satoru noticed there was no sign of clay on her fingers.

"How'd the rest of the lesson go?" Y/n asked, now facing him.

"Ah, same old stuff," he quickly said, waving the question away then backing up to grab the brown paper bag. He popped his knuckles a few times while he walked as if to suppress his excitement."I got you bento. Figured you'd be pretty hungry sculpting all day."