𝕵𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖞 𝕲𝖆𝖒𝖊 | 𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔 𝖝 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 |

Chapter 20 | On to Better Things

The cold air of the night brushes your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the back of your neck to rise. Gojo stands across from you with a cold stare, almost contributing to the chills of the air- though his eyes seem to be devoid of any anger. While his gaze remains on you, un-breaking, you turn your head up. Small gray clouds dot the sky, hanging over you, nearly foreshadowing the storm that's bound to come.

"You could at least look at me." Gojo says, his voice flat and hoarse.

You manage to peel your eyes off of the sky and pull your head out of the clouds. You take your time, scanning your surroundings. The chatter of the people around you fills your ears. The bass of the music is dulled by the walls of the club, preserving the atmosphere within. The bright neon lights above you illuminate neither you nor Gojo, but the space that separates you.

"Y/N." Gojo speaks again. His voice more firm. You hear the heel of his shoes click on the cement pavement as he takes a step closer to you.

You turn your head towards him, mindlessly taking the smallest step back as to maintain the space.

"What is it, Gojo?" You ask, slightly choking on your words as they come out. You cross an arm over the other, standing up straight as Gojo's shadow extends over you.

"I wanted to apologize to you-"

"For what?" You cut him off before he can even finish his sentence, your words biting at his sudden need to show his condolence even though you have already run out of space on the list of all the ways he's done you wrong.

"I know I didn't say it before. But I'm saying it now." He says, his voice timid, coming off as though he's speaking to a beast that's on the edge of lashing out.

Your lack of immediate response isn't what catches Gojo off guard next, but the smile that creeps across your lips that renders him speechless. You keep your arms folded tightly over your chest, your nails grip at the cotton sleeves of your shirt as you keep yourself from tearing him a new one.

"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" You ask him, looking away and flashing the curled end of your lip at him as if to rub salt in the wound.

"Better late than never," He light-heartedly suggests in an effort to play at your good side. "Right?" Uncertainty starts seeps through the cracks in his words.

"No." You respond curtly with a gentle shake of your head. The smile leaves your face as you redirect your attention to him. You uncross your arms and let them hang loosely at your side. Gojo looks at you up and down, his jaw tensing as he ponders whether or not he should be the one backing away.

"Tell me the truth." Gojo states, unflinching and looking you dead in the eyes.

"What truth?" You ask with furrowed brows, his sudden firmness catching you off guard. There's many truths that he could be asking for, and only so little that you'd be willing to give to him.

"That you used him to make me jealous." He clarifies unapologetically. He straightens his shoulders, his stature becoming much more dignified and prideful than before.

"I didn't use him." You reply sheepishly, dodging Gojo's piercing blue eyes. "He was the one who proposed the idea to me."

"Did you not get what you wanted?" Gojo asks, trying to pry the answers from your mind for a reason unbeknownst to you.

You scoff and turn on your heel, pondering your answer and glancing up to the night sky as if it'll tell you in full how to respond. In all it's glory, it still only reflects a blank and clouded nothing towards you.

After a moment of silence, you sigh and turn back around, relaxing your shoulders.

"I did." You admit, looking down at your shoes. Gojo remains silent, waiting for some sort of explanation. "But, not from you."

"I love you, Y/N." Gojo confesses while taking a step towards you. His words shock you like a ray of sunlight on a freezing day. Yet, you still cannot weigh the truth of his admittance.

You press your lips into a thin line and look up at him, folding your arms over your chest again.

"No you don't, Gojo." You whisper, meeting his eyes with a somber look.

The rift that separated you has been washed away. The tips of your shoes are nearly an inch apart. You can feel his breath on your cheek, and despite the proximity, there's no such spark that blooms within you now. No butterflies, no nervousness, no craving for him to see you differently than he did before.

"You just hate the idea of me being with anyone else that isn't you." The words leave your lips smoothly and easily; a realization that you made weeks ago but never had the courage to confess simply because you feared that the chances of losing Gojo completely were high.

"But you got what you wanted." He mutters, placing a finger under your chin.

Swiftly, you tear your head from his fingertips and take a step back, directing your attention towards the inside of the club, where Choso is patiently waiting for you.

"This isn't what I want anymore."

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With a cigarette in one hand and an empty glass in the other, Choso's eyes perk up at you as he sees you weave your way through the moving sea of people. He places his glass down and puffs at his cigarette as a delighted smile crawls across his lips. You were only gone for about twenty to thirty minutes, but he missed you in your absence.

His smile shortly shifts to confusion- you weren't angry but he could clearly see a determined look on your face. There was a look in your eyes that he had never seen before and it tugged his curious interest. He makes space on the couch for you but you don't take a seat. With one foot pointing towards the door and your arms hanging comfortably at your sides, you look down at him and ask:

"Do you wanna get out of here?"