Bound In Love's Curse [Gojo Satoru x Female Readers]

33 ~ Thirty-Three

[Y]ou shot a glare at Gojo Satoru, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "If you already knew, why'd you let me embarrass myself?" you spat, your gaze narrowing.

The white-haired sorcerer merely chuckled in response. "Because it's amusing, obviously."

"Wow," you muttered dryly, his response hardly surprising given his typical attitude. "Seems like mocking the sick is a blast for you."

He lounged back casually, as if the situation was of little consequence to him. "I guess my sense of humor isn't appreciated by everyone."

You rolled your eyes at his response, but then the headache reminded you of the discomfort still lingering in your head.

You recalled how Shoko had managed to rouse you earlier, and the thought of slipping back into that type of unconsciousness didn't sit well with you.

Hastily, you rummaged through the paper bag Shoko had left, searching for the medication you needed.

"What's the matter?" Nanami queried, noting the tension etched in your furrowed brow as he drew closer.

"Just another headache," you replied with a grimace. "It's killing me."

Having finally secured the medication you sought, Gojo Satoru leaned in, offering you a glass of water with a surprisingly gentle gesture, which contrasted sharply with his usual carefree demeanor.

With a sense of relief, you downed the medicine in one gulp, the bitter taste providing a temporary reprieve for your throbbing head.

Nanami's calm gaze fixed upon you as he inquired, "Weren't you fine last night?"

"It's the aftereffects," you sighed wearily, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling over you.

Gojo Satoru raised an eyebrow. "Of what?" he questioned.

"I sometimes delve too deeply into a cursed spirit's memories," you admitted. "Their negative emotions and pain can overwhelm me. It's like I absorb their suffering."

"What happened to that little girl to make you this way?" Gojo inquired, referring to the one you spared from violence last night.

"She met a tragic end," you responded solemnly, the memory still haunting you. "She fell down the stairs while shielding her brother from a cursed spirit. Her neck twisted upon impact, causing unbearable pain."

"Is that why you sound like you've been gargling rocks?"

This drew a sharp glare from you. "Must be the side effect of being around someone who thinks their voice is music to everyone's ears," you retorted.

"Ouch, hitting me where it hurts, huh?" Gojo replied with a smirk. "Don't worry, I've got plenty of charm to spare."

"Oh, forgive me for not swooning at the sound of your voice," you shot back, your sarcasm matching his own.

Gojo Satoru chuckled at that, his amusement evident. "Fair point, not everyone can handle perfection."

"Perfection, huh? Is that what we're calling unchecked ego these days?" you quipped.

"I'll take unchecked ego over unchecked mediocrity any day."

"Ah yes, because arrogance is such a charming quality, wow," you remarked dryly, rolling your eyes.

"At least I managed to impress you?" Gojo's grin widened as he tossed the remark your way.

You shot back flatly. "You need a crash course in sarcasm, sensei. Your idiocy is showing. Perhaps read a book sometime."

Nanami, his expression impassive as ever, stepped in to quell the banter, a subtle adjustment of his glasses accompanying his words. "Enough! Both of you. I feel a headache coming on."

"And I feel like I might need some rest." You said as you let your body collapsed backward on the mattress heavily.

The motion caused Gojo Satoru's shirt to ride up slightly on your legs, exposing more skin and drawing his blindfolded gaze.

"Y/N, a bit of propriety wouldn't go amiss," Nanami advised, his voice steady as always.

An uneasy feeling gnawed at him. It was untypical of Gojo Satoru to lend anyone his shirt. Which led him to question the sorcerer's intentions.

Could it be a subtle display of possession?

"Remember, there are two men present," Nanami reminded firmly.

Recognizing the lapse in judgment, you swiftly adjusted yourself and reached for Gojo Satoru's blanket for cover.

As you cocooned yourself in it, the familiar scent of Gojo Satoru surrounded you, mingling with the soft fabric. It carried traces of his cologne, along with hints of tea and sweets, creating an intoxicating aroma that pulled you in.

Perhaps you had grown too accustomed to his presence, allowing yourself to forget about propriety in his company.

"Why are you dressed like that, anyway?" Nanami inquired, his expression betraying a hint of suspicion.

"Ask Mr. 'Charm to Spare' over there," you quipped, tossing the ball into the strongest sorcerer's court.

Nanami turned to him, his expression stoic. "Gojo Satoru?"

The white-haired sorcerer raised his hands defensively. "She mentioned that tight clothes were uncomfortable for her. This was the easiest option we had," he explained.

Despite his explanation, Nanami still regarded Gojo Satoru with a hint of suspicion.

However, he decided to let matters slide, realizing that nothing significant had transpired aside from your ongoing illness.

"Anyway, Shoko informed me about your condition," Nanami informed you as he handed over the plastic bags he had brought with him.

You hesitated for a moment before accepting the bag from him, albeit reluctantly.

Upon opening it, you found a box of the same Macaron brand that Ijichi had given you the other day, along with some fruits.

Your gaze softened instantly. "Thanks, Nanami-san. Looks like you brought my favorite."

Nanami's cheeks tinged with color at your appreciation. Clearing his throat, he responded, "Shoko mentioned you might be craving something sweet."

"And she's right. It's already lifting my spirits," you replied honestly with a nod.

"What's this?" Gojo interjected with a mischievous smirk. "I've been the dessert provider since day one, and I didn't get a heartfelt thank you. Why does Nanami get special treatment?"

"Because you're shameless," you shot back.

"I can't argue with that," Gojo admitted, with a chuckle.

Your response was a sigh and a dismissive shake of the head.