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

171 ~ Hundred And Seventy-One

"Well, well, if it isn't you." Sinichi's lips curled into a crooked grin, voice darkly amused. "Didn't expect to run into you here in... Tokyo."

He was dressed sharply in a crisp black shirt with the top button undone, tailored black suit pants hugging his frame. His appearance was striking—handsome, with glossy black eyes flecked with faint hues of blue, and a small scar cutting diagonally across his right cheek. His black bangs hung just above his eyes, dull but calculating. There was an air of danger to him, quiet and coiled, ready to strike.

Not Gojo Satoru level, but attractive in his own way—except for the unsettling, cunning aura that radiated from him like a shadow.

Your spine straightened, a faint smile pulling at your lips, cold and composed as you met his gaze. "And why would it matter to you?"

He chuckled darkly, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in slightly, just enough to make you notice. "Because last I heard, your brother had you locked up pretty tight." His voice dipped, a taunting edge bleeding through as he let the words hang.

Ignoring the flash of disgust that rippled through you, you tilted your head ever so slightly. "I don't see how that's your concern, Sinichi."

A smirk tugged at his lips, his tone sharpening. "Oh, we're back to Sinichi now? Not Sin? You used to have other names for me... back in high school."

The memory brought a sour taste to your mouth, but you didn't flinch. "Times change. People grow up." Your voice was even, giving nothing away. You weren't about to let him dig into old wounds.

Sinichi's smile darkened, and he shifted his weight, letting his gaze linger on you in a way that felt both dangerous and intrusive.

"What's the rush, Y/N? Thought we'd catch up, for old times' sake." His voice was low, smooth—dark like the edge of a blade, each word dripping with arrogance.

He took a step closer, just enough for you to feel the heat of his presence, but not close enough to invade your space. Yet.

You remained seated, unmoved, the faintest smile tugging at your lips, though it didn't reach your eyes. You weren't about to give him the satisfaction of rattling you. Instead, you met his stare head-on, your expression cool and calculating, fingers lightly tracing the rim of your empty glass as if the man standing in front of you barely deserved your notice.

"Catch up?" You raised a brow, voice low and velvety, with a trace of disdain. "I don't recall us ever having much worth revisiting, Sinichi."

His chuckle was slow, a dark amusement flickering in his eyes as he tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness. "You wound me, princess. I remember things a little differently... You used to be far more friendly." His voice dropped, heavy with innuendo, the smirk never leaving his face.

But you didn't bite. Instead, you leaned back slightly, crossing one leg over the other, your posture screaming composed dominance. Your lips parted just enough to offer a quiet, dangerous chuckle of your own. "Maybe you're confusing me with someone who actually gave a damn, Sinichi."

Gojo remained beside you, his usual playful air noticeably absent, though a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. His gaze flicked lazily between you and Sinichi, but beneath that casual front, you could sense the shift—the amusement laced with a dangerous edge. His sunglasses couldn't hide the sharp glint in his eyes.

But Gojo wasn't the type to lose his cool; that wasn't his style. Instead, his presence was a silent claim, radiating an effortless confidence that made it clear—he wasn't worried. Not about Sinichi. Not about anyone.

You didn't need rescuing, and Gojo was well aware of that. But Gojo? He'd make sure Sinichi understood exactly where he stood, without lifting a finger—unless the guy crossed the line.

Sinichi's eyes darkened, though his smirk stayed in place. He leaned in a fraction more, voice low and full of edge. "That sharp tongue never changed... Shame. I always liked it."

You didn't flinch, didn't lean back—your gaze stayed locked on his, cold and indifferent, as you tilted your head slightly, lips curving into a small, razor-sharp smile. "And I preferred you when you weren't standing in front of me."

His smirk faltered, just for a moment, before he masked it with a humorless chuckle. He straightened, taking a deliberate step back, the arrogant glint in his eyes hardening. "Guess we all change, huh? But you... you're still as untouchable as ever."

Beside you, Gojo's energy spiked, though he stayed silent. You could feel his protective tension, simmering beneath his usual calm exterior.

You arched a brow, fingers still tracing the glass, unbothered. "Untouchable was never your problem, Sinichi. Yours was being... disposable."

His mask cracked for the briefest second, his expression tightening before he regained control, flashing you a grin that held no warmth. "Same old Y/N... still cutting deep. We'll see if you feel that way when I'm done."

Voice low and cold, eyes flashing with deadly calm, you mouthed: "Try me."

Gojo, hands casually tucked in his pockets, seemingly at ease as Sinichi continued his little performance. To anyone else, he looked like he was having a good time—letting the scene play out without a care in the world.

But you knew better.

The faint edge to his smirk, the way he shifted ever so slightly closer to you—it was Gojo's way of silently staking his claim, even if he didn't need to say a word.