Ex's & Oh's | Gojo Satoru ✓

➸ why does gojo think people can't change? that asshole needs a reality check

[Y/N]'s POV:

I have dressed myself up to look as pretty as possible this morning—your girl has a coffee date with a very sexy Italian doctor in approximately forty-five minutes.

Last night we were talking, from the hours of midnight to four in the morning about everything and anything, somewhere in-between that I asked him the question that dictated whether or not I was willing to proceed pursuing this man—the question being; coffee or tea? He said coffee. I grinned because I too, am a coffee girl, and the fact that he prefers coffee over tea means that in the future, he'll probably make coffee for me when he makes a cup for himself. If he preferred tea, then he most likely wouldn't go out of his way to make tea and coffee, but since we're both coffee lovers, he knows that if he has coffee, then so will I.

I don't know if this makes any sense whatsoever to you guys—but in my head it does, and I suppose that's all that matters.

Anyway, coffee date. Yes. Since he said he loved coffee, I suggested that we meet up today at a local café. He agreed, obviously, and he liked that I had the balls to be the one to ask him first, rather than wait for him to make the first move. He seemed pleasantly surprised that I asked so suddenly, especially because we'd only been speaking to one another for a few days. I think Gojo telling me that nobody will ever be better than him was the catalyst that kickstarted my sudden forwardness towards this guy. I wanted to prove him wrong.

I decided on a coffee date because I've gone on first dates with guys before during the evening for drinks or dinner and it almost never ends well, they always expect me to go back to their place or them to come back to mine. At least over a coffee date—I'm aware that the two of us will genuinely want to get to know each other, and it won't just be small talk for the sole purpose of wanting to get into each other's pants.

I fix my hair in the mirror—today, I just wanted it to look simple. It's pin-straight, my [H/C] hair falling over my shoulders like a silky waterfall. My makeup is simple, too—simple but elegant; just some light foundation, concealer, blush, mascara and cherry-flavoured lip-balm that is tinted a berry-red. My attire is also simple; a plain, white dress that makes me look, I would like to believe, angelic. Coquettish.

As I walk into the kitchen because I desperately need a glass of water—I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear a low wolf whistle being directed towards me the very moment I step over the threshold. My hand immediately flies to my chest, in an attempt to quell my frenetically racing heart.

Gojo has assumed a seat at the dining table, elegantly crossing one long leg over the other. He has a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee sitting in front of him. I forget sometimes that this is a shared, communal kitchen with the other members of staff who also live on this floor. It brings me back to my University days when I lived in student accommodation. Interesting times.