Gojo stirred, a low groan rumbling in his chest as his aching body shifted against the cool silk sheets beneath him. Every muscle protested with a dull soreness left from earlier that morning. His hand moved instinctively across the bed, fingertips trailing over the smooth, pearly fabric in search of that familiar warmth. But where there should have been the firm, reassuring press of Suguru’s arm, he was only met with more cold expanse of sheets.
A frown creased Gojo’s eyebrows as he turned his head to the side, eyes cracking open just enough to let in the world– and the overwhelming brightness of the evening sun. Blazing shafts of late afternoon light poured through the window, painting the bedroom in amber hues and blurring his sleepy vision. It stung– hot and unforgiving. He hissed quietly, squeezing his eyes shut again before lifting an arm to shield them, draping it loosely across his face with a sigh.
The sound of his name, a soft and sweet hum, unmistakably coming from the pretty lips of his darling lover. His breath caught and he peeled his arm from his face to lift his head slowly from the pillow and blink through the golden haze until his eyes settled on the silhouette at the foot of the bed in front of the window.
Geto sat there, bathed in the fire of the setting sun. The sheer curtains swayed gently along the sides of the window, which was cracked open slightly to allow a gentle breeze to flow through. The fading light caught the edges of his figure. Every line, every curve, every perfect detail, outlined in molten gold and clinging to him like a halo– radiant and divine. Untouched by the darkness that was the world they lived in. For a moment Gino could only stare. Crystal blue eyes fixed on the angel in front of him. If he didn't know any better he'd think himself still asleep. But he knew that beauty all too well.
