Ex's & Oh's | Gojo Satoru ✓

➸ you know that elle king song? exes and ohs? that is the soundtrack of my life

[Y/N]'s POV:

I want to die.

I'm not even fucking joking.

First and foremost—I was told that I'd be meeting Principal Yaga here, not fucking Gojo of all people, surrounded by three of his students. Truthfully, I had plans to avoid him like the plague, but thanks to that sneaky old man, I have no other choice but to swallow down my pettiness and face him. I'm almost certain that I'm in the worst position possible. I'm in public, for starters, so I can't even knee him in the balls no matter how much I desperately want to, and, as a people pleaser, I don't want to brand myself as a bitch in front of the three youngsters who are currently staring at me in some commingling of shock and disbelief.

Secondly—holy fuck. The main reason I want the ground to swallow me up right now is because of one person, and one person only.

Gojo Satoru.

And that's because he looks sexy—even while wearing a blindfold. So sexy that I could jump his bones right here, right now.

His hair is as white as snow, spiked up to perfection, and his complexion is warmer than gold. He has the kind of face that would stop you in your tracks—his nose is perfectly shaped, narrow and rounded, and his lips are sly and seductive. His jawline is as sharp as a razor, and despite being clad in his work attire, I can still vividly envision the twining cords of muscle that moulds his entire physique; powerful arms, bold thighs and calves, a firm chest and abdomen.

God help me.

My stomach dips in his presence. I wasn't expecting to see him here. I hadn't prepared to meet him like this, either, but now that he's standing in front of me, practically towering over me like a skyscraper, I don't know what to do. I know he's staring at me—I can feel his eyes swiftly raking over my body as he observes me, burning holes into every inch of my skin as I helplessly stand beneath his scrutiny; unable to move a muscle.

At this current moment in time, he makes me feel so fucking small. Even in my heels the top of my head doesn't quite hit his chin. I feel extremely tempted to avert my attention and focus it elsewhere—but then I believe he'll think that he's winning something if I look away now—and the last thing I want is for him to know that he still has an effect on me even after all this time, so I keep my gaze fixed on him while he holds my stare. It's a battle of who breaks eye contact first, and it certainly isn't going to be me.

"Can I just say—" the girl standing beside Gojo suddenly chimes in, though her words are like a blunt knife attempting, and failing miserably, to slice the thick tension between us. "That you are absolutely stunning. You could be a model."

That seems to cause both Gojo and I to finally end our intense staring contest and simultaneously turn to the ginger-haired teenager. I smile at her brightly, ignoring Gojo's eyes that have gone back to staring at the side of my face. I can feel the heat of his gaze warming my skin, and it takes everything in me not to acknowledge his presence.