Failing For You - Gojo x Reader

Chapter 20

Class ends.

I calmly put my computer back into my bag, followed by my notebook and novel. I don't look towards the front of the room. 

I let him come to me. 

And he does, of course.

"Ready?" Gojo asks, stopping next to me like he had earlier. The students leaving weave around him, glancing at him curiously. 

I stand, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

"Yep," I say casually, motioning for him to lead the way.

He pauses, staring at me for a second, and I can almost see the wheels spinning in his brain. He's wondering what I'm up to. 

We leave behind the swarm of students heading for the front doors and instead turn down a different hallway. The happy chatter of conversation dies down as we move further into the building. 

"Here it is," he says, stopping in front of a nondescript door. 

Honestly, I expected more. 

"Shouldn't it have your name on it or something?" I question, looking up at him.

"TA's aren't special enough to get name placards," he says, sighing heavily.

"Wow, that might be the most humble thing you've ever said," I reply, shaking my head in disbelief. 

"You misunderstood me," he says. "I happen to think I'm extremely special and that I absolutely do deserve a placard. Gold preferably."

"There we go," I mutter, rolling my eyes. 

Cocky motherfucker. 

He pushes a key into the door and turns the knob. I take a deep breath when he's not looking and follow him into the office. 

It's clean. Spotless. That's the first thing I notice. 

The second thing I notice is that that is smells like him.

I inhale slowly, looking around. He walks to his desk and sits down on the edge, watching me.

He has a bookshelf full of French literature and textbooks in all sorts of languages. I walk over to it, tracing my finger along the spines, trying to spot something that looks familiar. There's nothing. I love literature, but he has me beat. He's unlocked worlds and stories in languages that are completely inaccessible to me. Admittedly, I'm a bit jealous. 

I turn to him, looking at his desk. It's clear of messy papers. There's just a small potted cactus and a notebook with a pen next to it. I scoff as I read the metal name card sitting on the edge. Gojo Satoru, Graduate Teacher's Assistant. 

"Did you clean up for me?" I ask him, slowly approaching. "Sweep a little? Throw away all of your candy wrappers?"

He laughs, crossing his arms. "I always put the candy wrappers into the trash."

I stop a foot away from him. "So where's my book?"

"It's probably around here somewhere," he says vaguely, not breaking eye contact. 

"Right," I suck on my lip. I motion behind him to his desk chair. "Is that where you touched yourself? Or was it where you're sitting now?"

I watch the way his chest rises and falls and the slow smile forming on his lips. "Guess."

"When I imagined it, you were in your desk chair," I take another step forward. I look at him through lowered lashes. 

"Is that right?" His voice lowers. He shifts, uncrossing his arms and running a hand through his white hair.