𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 (𝓖𝓸𝓳𝓸 𝔁 𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻)

.｡*♡Crescent.｡*♡

word count: 2,478

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10 days until the exhibit...

"Hey-a!" Gojo greeted loudly as he pushed the door open with his shoulder. He hefted the large bag of clay in his arms, readjusting the load so he could see y/n over it's tall rectangular shape.

"You're back already?" Y/n asked, toweling her greyed hands. "I thought an errand to the shipment office would take much longer."

"Were you trying to get rid of me?" he smiled. Y/n pursed her lips, trying to suppress her grin.

"Maybe." She directed him to a somewhat clean space to put the clay down.

"I even had some time to swing by and grab us something sweet on the way back, see?" He propped the clay downwards so she could see a small plastic tray atop everything. It contained four circular treats of various colors.

"It's quite late for daifuku," y/n giggled, motioning to the analog clock. 7 o'clock, it read. Satoru clicked his tongue in defiance.

"It's never too late for daifuku."

Satoru then dropped the block with a grunt, placing his hands on his hips contently. His eyes soon trailed to the work in progress, his head tilted to the side. It was seemingly a mound of... nothing. There were etches of pencil grooved into the grey matter, faint traces of potential ideas littering it's surface not ready to be worked on quite yet.

"Looks... good," he tried aloud, nodding all too aggressively. Y/n scratched the side of her head as she stared back at Gojo.

"It's okay to be honest with me."

"Mm?" he hummed. He tucked his chin sheepishly, reaching out for the daifuku as an outlet for his embarrassment. "I am. I mean, it looks great... like..."

"Like a load of nothing. I've worked on it all day and yet it looks like this," y/n finished knowingly. "I appreciate the sentimentality, though."

Gojo felt himself flush all over again, though his fawning gaze caught wind of the way she fidgeted with her hands. Other things were on her mind. She seemed to be concealing it with that false aura he knew too well. 

Her e/c eyes met his behind the halo of gorgeous curls that had fallen to her face. He sucked in a breath, offering her the tray of dessert as an incentive to show her that it was okay to express herself to him. No need for that false narrative anymore.

"How's it going... really," Gojo said in a gentle tone. He leaned his hands on one of the wooden tables, all ears.

Her gaze held a sense of hesitation, especially as she looked away.

Y/n slowly accepted the rosy daifuku, biting into the mochi stuffed with a sweet strawberry and paste. She wet her soft lips, ridding them of leftover powder from the dessert. 

"It's fine... it's going."

Satoru said nothing, watching the beautiful woman rethink her words. Good. That was good. Unfortunately what she said next made him frown.

"What if this doesn't work out?"

He shook his head, jaw slackening.

"Don't say that."

"What if they all think it's bad? That I was stupid enough to think-"

"Y/n. Quit it with that word."