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Gojo's POV:
I had never hated myself more than in that moment.
That moment in which our lips detached, and all concept of rationality re-entered my body—causing me not to think straight and instead, ruin any chance I had of being with her. Of just remaining in her presence. Of just breathing in her scent. Of just kissing her lips and never getting sick of the delectable taste.
God, I'm so in love with her that I feel like the biggest idiot on the planet.
I don't know what to do.
I don't know what to do anymore.
She's driving me crazy.
She's been acting off with me ever since she saw Shoko and I together. I wasn't dumb, I knew how she would react seeing us, especially acting as close as we were, and yet I wanted her to react angrily. I wanted her to feel jealous. I wanted her to want me so much more than I already know she does seeing us promenading around the school together. It worked, I think—but not quite in the way I expected. My plan sort of backfired, because it just meant that I'd remembered when [Y/N] slept with Geto after witnessing the downfall of our friendship and then I just got angry—like, seeing nothing but red angry and now we are once again in a silent fight that I don't know if we'll ever come out of.
I should have known from the very beginning that things would turn upside down for me the mere moment she stepped foot into Tokyo. I don't think the two of us are meant to be in the same city; it's just a recipe for disaster. It's like asking for thunder and lightning and hail rather than sunshine and greenery. I wish she wasn't here, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. I don't know how I managed to convince myself that this would be fun—all it's done so far is mess with my head and make me realise just how in love with this woman I am and just how much she hurts me on a daily basis because oh my fucking God this woman is off the rails crazy and yet I love her more than I ever have before.
"You seem distracted." I hear Nanami's deep, trombone voice say as he slides into the empty seat next to me. I internally groan because I want nothing more than to be left alone—and yet, I school my features into a mask of impassivity so that Nanami doesn't press me with annoying questions I don't have the answers to.
"I'm just tired." I wave my hand in the air dismissively. The two of us are currently inhabited in the teachers' lounge because I assume that neither of us have anything better to do. I'm not actually due to teach for the rest of the day, I'm only here to observe a few of my star students.
"Hmm," Nanami grumbles, tapping his lower lip with his forefinger. "That's funny. [Y/N] said the same thing earlier when I asked her."
I immediately snap my head in his direction. "Is she okay?" I ask—concern unwittingly grasping my features and contorting them into an emotion I refuse to show, but am failing miserably in doing so.
