Mimi

you didn’t question it though, simply leaning over his shoulder and offering him a small smile. 

“hi,” you greeted scaramouche quietly, taking a seat on the chair near his. he only replied with a small nod of acknowledgement, his eyes never leaving the scenery before him. 

it wasn’t anything impressive. buildings and a cloudy night sky. no stars were visible and the moon was absent tonight. if it weren’t for the living room’s lights that you had decided not to turn off, you wouldn’t have been able to take a couple of seconds to admire his features. 

scara was pretty. very pretty. maybe too pretty. it was the first thing you had noticed when you'd met him a couple of years ago. unbeknownst to him, kunikuzushi attracted a lot of attention to himself because of his looks - or maybe he knew but simply ignored it, which would be more likely. flawless porcelain skin and soft indigo hair that fell over eyes he framed with careful strokes of red. sweet features that appeared sharp because of his temperament and attitude. 

but kuni was calm tonight. he was relaxed, leaning into the back of his chair while a cigarette dangled from his fingers. you couldn’t help but stare. examining the tattoos he had on his knuckles and forearms. the silver rings hugging slim and long fingers. his lips wrapping around the orange end of the stick. 

“can i try?” you found yourself asking out of nowhere. 

scaramouche’s eyebrows rose in mild surprise, finally directing his gaze towards you. and you might have drowned on the spot when his midnight pools met yours. it was a bit cruel, you thought to yourself, how any of his actions had your mind spiraling out of your control. scara was otherworldly. ethereal. a masterpiece you could stare at for hours and fall speechless before its magnificence each and every time.

“if you want to kiss me so bad you can just say so,” scara teased you, offering you his signature smirk as a reply. 

you blinked rapidly. maybe it was his sleepiness. maybe exhaustion. or perhaps the cigarette. but his voice sounded an octave or two lower. and maybe it was the coffee you shouldn’t have drunk earlier. maybe your anxiety. or perhaps the forbidden feelings you harbored for your best friend. but your heart had stopped for a split second, making you stare at him dumbly. 

right. an indirect kiss. 

“no, you can’t try,” scara mumbled, his expression falling back to its usual coldness. your fingers itched with the urge to melt the ice in gentle caresses. you wondered for a split second if he’d rather let you breathe in the poison he was exhaling if it came in the form of an actual kiss instead. 

“don’t want you to grow addicted, hm?” 

“i won’t,” you protested, folding your arms over your chest. “i’d die from lung failure.” 

scara’s chuckle had your frown dissolving into a small smile. a little shy. a little dreamy. it had come to your mind many times that maybe he wasn’t unaware of your feelings. maybe he knew and simply ignored them. perhaps he enjoyed toying with them. or he simply was stupid and oblivious. 

“just once,” scara muttered, turning his upper body your way. 

it was a terrible idea, you told yourself, internally freaking out when cold fingers cupped your jaw. your breath hitched in your throat. when his index tapped on your lips so you could part them, you felt your heart jump to the tip of your tongue and feared for a second that it’d spill all of your secrets if you opened your mouth even just a little. 

“there you go,” scara mumbled, bringing the filter up to your lips. 

a terrible idea, really. a half-drag through and you were already a coughing mess, pushing his hand away as he snickered at your stupidity. you weakly slapped his shoulder, making a strained noise. it smelled horrible. tasted even worse. 

sweetness suddenly invaded your senses, catching you off guard. you didn’t have the time to react before the ghost of a kiss you swear you had imagined was gone. the redness of his cheeks could be because of the cold. but there was no mistaking the fondness in his gaze. the way his smile seemed more bashful than usual. the gentleness of his tone. 

“idiot.”

© mimi-sunny — all rights reserved. do not translate, plagiarize or feed into ai.

you didn’t question it though, simply leaning over his shoulder and offering him a small smile. 

“hi,” you greeted scaramouche quietly, taking a seat on the chair near his. he only replied with a small nod of acknowledgement, his eyes never leaving the scenery before him. 

it wasn’t anything impressive. buildings and a cloudy night sky. no stars were visible and the moon was absent tonight. if it weren’t for the living room’s lights that you had decided not to turn off, you wouldn’t have been able to take a couple of seconds to admire his features. 

scara was pretty. very pretty. maybe too pretty. it was the first thing you had noticed when you'd met him a couple of years ago. unbeknownst to him, kunikuzushi attracted a lot of attention to himself because of his looks - or maybe he knew but simply ignored it, which would be more likely. flawless porcelain skin and soft indigo hair that fell over eyes he framed with careful strokes of red. sweet features that appeared sharp because of his temperament and attitude. 

but kuni was calm tonight. he was relaxed, leaning into the back of his chair while a cigarette dangled from his fingers. you couldn’t help but stare. examining the tattoos he had on his knuckles and forearms. the silver rings hugging slim and long fingers. his lips wrapping around the orange end of the stick. 

“can i try?” you found yourself asking out of nowhere. 

scaramouche’s eyebrows rose in mild surprise, finally directing his gaze towards you. and you might have drowned on the spot when his midnight pools met yours. it was a bit cruel, you thought to yourself, how any of his actions had your mind spiraling out of your control. scara was otherworldly. ethereal. a masterpiece you could stare at for hours and fall speechless before its magnificence each and every time.

“if you want to kiss me so bad you can just say so,” scara teased you, offering you his signature smirk as a reply. 

you blinked rapidly. maybe it was his sleepiness. maybe exhaustion. or perhaps the cigarette. but his voice sounded an octave or two lower. and maybe it was the coffee you shouldn’t have drunk earlier. maybe your anxiety. or perhaps the forbidden feelings you harbored for your best friend. but your heart had stopped for a split second, making you stare at him dumbly. 

right. an indirect kiss. 

“no, you can’t try,” scara mumbled, his expression falling back to its usual coldness. your fingers itched with the urge to melt the ice in gentle caresses. you wondered for a split second if he’d rather let you breathe in the poison he was exhaling if it came in the form of an actual kiss instead. 

“don’t want you to grow addicted, hm?” 

“i won’t,” you protested, folding your arms over your chest. “i’d die from lung failure.” 

scara’s chuckle had your frown dissolving into a small smile. a little shy. a little dreamy. it had come to your mind many times that maybe he wasn’t unaware of your feelings. maybe he knew and simply ignored them. perhaps he enjoyed toying with them. or he simply was stupid and oblivious. 

“just once,” scara muttered, turning his upper body your way. 

it was a terrible idea, you told yourself, internally freaking out when cold fingers cupped your jaw. your breath hitched in your throat. when his index tapped on your lips so you could part them, you felt your heart jump to the tip of your tongue and feared for a second that it’d spill all of your secrets if you opened your mouth even just a little. 

“there you go,” scara mumbled, bringing the filter up to your lips. 

a terrible idea, really. a half-drag through and you were already a coughing mess, pushing his hand away as he snickered at your stupidity. you weakly slapped his shoulder, making a strained noise. it smelled horrible. tasted even worse. 

sweetness suddenly invaded your senses, catching you off guard. you didn’t have the time to react before the ghost of a kiss you swear you had imagined was gone. the redness of his cheeks could be because of the cold. but there was no mistaking the fondness in his gaze. the way his smile seemed more bashful than usual. the gentleness of his tone. 

“idiot.”

© mimi-sunny — all rights reserved. do not translate, plagiarize or feed into ai.

you’d reserve your mornings to sprawl under the sun, covered in sunscreen and praying you won’t get burnt by the bright rays. 

your noons would be spent filling your stomach with the local specialties, sitting in complete silence as you exchange approving looks and eager nods at the flavors exploding in your mouth. 

and your afternoons were your time to explore different itineraries you had prepared months in advance before spending the night at izakayas or fancier dining places. 

and today was no different. yuki’s obnoxiously loud alarm pulled you from your sleep, groaning as you rubbed your eyes and rolled off your comfortable hotel bed, yelping as you landed butt-first on the hardwood floor. 

with a few days left on your trip, you were already mourning the peaceful days you’d spend on the beach and the tranquil nights during which you’d walk under the moonlight, taking countless detours before finally reaching your hotel room in hopes of making the day last longer. 

you could so easily imagine yourself dragging your feet back to your endless office job, typing away on your keyboard with boredom painted on your features while your boss would whine about unmet deadlines – although everyone knew it was his fault.

what you hadn’t imagined though, was the tall, looming shadow disrupting your tanning time.

with a sigh, you pushed your sunglasses down your nose, squinting a bit as you looked up at whoever the hell had the audacity to bother you so early in the morning.

you were met with the brightest person you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

literally. 

platinum – hell, that was just pure white – hair strands were pushed away from his face by a large hand, his skin way too pale to not catch a sunburn under the scorching sun. he was sporting a hawaiian shirt, the buttons deliberately undone to reveal toned muscles. 

he followed your gesture, pulling his glasses down, revealing eyes brighter than your miserable future. 

he was pretty, you noted, taking in his soft yet striking features, the annoyingly attractive smirk painted on his lips, the porcelain expanse of his skin. 

“can i help you?” you asked, propping yourself on your elbows. 

you barely noticed the other man standing a few feet away from him, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was embarrassed to even be around him. 

“yeah, actually,” the man standing next to your sunlounger answered. 

you decided that you didn’t like him, regardless of how attractive he was. the confidence that coated each word, bordering on arrogance. the low timbre of his voice, as if he was aware of what effect he’d have on most people around him. 

“you could start by giving me your number,” he added, his smirk widening into a cocky smile. 

slowly, you turned your head towards yuki, who was laying next to you, catching how she’d slapped a hand onto her mouth as if to stop herself from bursting into a loud fit of laughter. 

disbelief was written on your face as you twisted your head to look at him again, lips parted in incredulity. 

you weren’t sure how you were supposed to react, really. whether to laugh in his pretentious face, flip him off or simply ignore him in hopes that he’d leave you alone. 

decisions, decisions. 

suddenly, a lightbulb lit over your head, sitting up properly this time. 

“sure,” you replied, offering him a small smile. 

you observed how his self-important smile morphed into a victorious one, hands reaching towards the pockets of his shorts to pull out his phone. before he even had the chance to open the contact app, you spoke up again : 

“ten push-ups for each digit,” you stated your condition, batting your lashes innocently at him. 

and nothing felt as good as watching his face fall and his smile fade, clearly not expecting any of that. sure, it didn’t last long, but it was enough to lift your spirits after having your pleasant time interrupted so rudely. 

yuki, who had been watching the entire exchange, was unable to hold back her laugh this time, nearly folding over at your ridiculous statement. neither could the man’s friends behind him, the black-haired man hiding his snicker behind his hand while the brunette woman jeered at him. 

yet he didn’t relent, didn’t even give up. he put his phone back in his pocket, mumbling something that sounded like yeah okay, alright, before lowering himself down to the ground. 

you blinked once. twice. a third time. 

see, given the overly confident impression you’d gotten from him, you hadn’t expected him to even consider complying to your stupid little joke. 

and yet. 

“surface’s a bit unstable,” he muttered, although he didn’t look so bothered as he executed the first set of push ups for the first digit.  

it was only at the third set that he’d started feeling the burn in his muscles and the strain in his arms. yuki was doing her homework, recording the entire scene, the groans spilling past his lips and the breathless chuckles he’d let out, as if he couldn’t believe the predicament he was in. immortalizing the way the muscles of his forearms and biceps flexed with every effort, how he’d pause in between sets while maintaining a perfect posture, letting out a shaky breath before continuing on. 

and you observed all of that, sunglasses now in your hands, barely registering what was happening. 

not that you minded the view, though. 

something like smugness curled in your chest, barely believing that a total stranger was trying so hard to land a chance with you because what? he thought you were pretty and that was enough for him to go to such lengths? 

nevermind the reason, you enjoyed the show he was putting on, and the way he sat on his knees when he was done with all of the sets, chest heaving up and down as a smile stretched across his face, turning to look at you like an eager puppy looking for approval. 

you threw a look to your friend before the both of you grabbed a hold of your towels and items, standing up from your comfortable seats. wrapping your sarong around your hips, you turned your head around, taking a few seconds to look him up and down. 

swiftly, you fished your lipstick out of your cute mini beach bag, uncapping it while crouching next to his kneeling form. his hands were oddly cold, you thought, grabbing ahold of the right one, your lipstick smudging a bit under the heat as you wrote two digits on his pale skin. 

“you did well,” you praised him, although you sounded anything but impressed. 

gojo watched as you stood up again, his skin practically burning where you had touched him. he didn’t find it in him to move, couldn’t trust his legs to handle his weight. 

“try again next time,” you told him, faux-sympathy dripping from each syllable, offering him a wink as a consolation prize. 

and gojo wished for tomorrow to come faster.

© mimi-sunny — all rights reserved

you’d reserve your mornings to sprawl under the sun, covered in sunscreen and praying you won’t get burnt by the bright rays. 

your noons would be spent filling your stomach with the local specialties, sitting in complete silence as you exchange approving looks and eager nods at the flavors exploding in your mouth. 

and your afternoons were your time to explore different itineraries you had prepared months in advance before spending the night at izakayas or fancier dining places. 

and today was no different. yuki’s obnoxiously loud alarm pulled you from your sleep, groaning as you rubbed your eyes and rolled off your comfortable hotel bed, yelping as you landed butt-first on the hardwood floor. 

with a few days left on your trip, you were already mourning the peaceful days you’d spend on the beach and the tranquil nights during which you’d walk under the moonlight, taking countless detours before finally reaching your hotel room in hopes of making the day last longer. 

you could so easily imagine yourself dragging your feet back to your endless office job, typing away on your keyboard with boredom painted on your features while your boss would whine about unmet deadlines – although everyone knew it was his fault.

what you hadn’t imagined though, was the tall, looming shadow disrupting your tanning time.

with a sigh, you pushed your sunglasses down your nose, squinting a bit as you looked up at whoever the hell had the audacity to bother you so early in the morning.

you were met with the brightest person you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

literally. 

platinum – hell, that was just pure white – hair strands were pushed away from his face by a large hand, his skin way too pale to not catch a sunburn under the scorching sun. he was sporting a hawaiian shirt, the buttons deliberately undone to reveal toned muscles. 

he followed your gesture, pulling his glasses down, revealing eyes brighter than your miserable future. 

he was pretty, you noted, taking in his soft yet striking features, the annoyingly attractive smirk painted on his lips, the porcelain expanse of his skin. 

“can i help you?” you asked, propping yourself on your elbows. 

you barely noticed the other man standing a few feet away from him, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was embarrassed to even be around him. 

“yeah, actually,” the man standing next to your sunlounger answered. 

you decided that you didn’t like him, regardless of how attractive he was. the confidence that coated each word, bordering on arrogance. the low timbre of his voice, as if he was aware of what effect he’d have on most people around him. 

“you could start by giving me your number,” he added, his smirk widening into a cocky smile. 

slowly, you turned your head towards yuki, who was laying next to you, catching how she’d slapped a hand onto her mouth as if to stop herself from bursting into a loud fit of laughter. 

disbelief was written on your face as you twisted your head to look at him again, lips parted in incredulity. 

you weren’t sure how you were supposed to react, really. whether to laugh in his pretentious face, flip him off or simply ignore him in hopes that he’d leave you alone. 

decisions, decisions. 

suddenly, a lightbulb lit over your head, sitting up properly this time. 

“sure,” you replied, offering him a small smile. 

you observed how his self-important smile morphed into a victorious one, hands reaching towards the pockets of his shorts to pull out his phone. before he even had the chance to open the contact app, you spoke up again : 

“ten push-ups for each digit,” you stated your condition, batting your lashes innocently at him. 

and nothing felt as good as watching his face fall and his smile fade, clearly not expecting any of that. sure, it didn’t last long, but it was enough to lift your spirits after having your pleasant time interrupted so rudely. 

yuki, who had been watching the entire exchange, was unable to hold back her laugh this time, nearly folding over at your ridiculous statement. neither could the man’s friends behind him, the black-haired man hiding his snicker behind his hand while the brunette woman jeered at him. 

yet he didn’t relent, didn’t even give up. he put his phone back in his pocket, mumbling something that sounded like yeah okay, alright, before lowering himself down to the ground. 

you blinked once. twice. a third time. 

see, given the overly confident impression you’d gotten from him, you hadn’t expected him to even consider complying to your stupid little joke. 

and yet. 

“surface’s a bit unstable,” he muttered, although he didn’t look so bothered as he executed the first set of push ups for the first digit.  

it was only at the third set that he’d started feeling the burn in his muscles and the strain in his arms. yuki was doing her homework, recording the entire scene, the groans spilling past his lips and the breathless chuckles he’d let out, as if he couldn’t believe the predicament he was in. immortalizing the way the muscles of his forearms and biceps flexed with every effort, how he’d pause in between sets while maintaining a perfect posture, letting out a shaky breath before continuing on. 

and you observed all of that, sunglasses now in your hands, barely registering what was happening. 

not that you minded the view, though. 

something like smugness curled in your chest, barely believing that a total stranger was trying so hard to land a chance with you because what? he thought you were pretty and that was enough for him to go to such lengths? 

nevermind the reason, you enjoyed the show he was putting on, and the way he sat on his knees when he was done with all of the sets, chest heaving up and down as a smile stretched across his face, turning to look at you like an eager puppy looking for approval. 

you threw a look to your friend before the both of you grabbed a hold of your towels and items, standing up from your comfortable seats. wrapping your sarong around your hips, you turned your head around, taking a few seconds to look him up and down. 

swiftly, you fished your lipstick out of your cute mini beach bag, uncapping it while crouching next to his kneeling form. his hands were oddly cold, you thought, grabbing ahold of the right one, your lipstick smudging a bit under the heat as you wrote two digits on his pale skin. 

“you did well,” you praised him, although you sounded anything but impressed. 

gojo watched as you stood up again, his skin practically burning where you had touched him. he didn’t find it in him to move, couldn’t trust his legs to handle his weight. 

“try again next time,” you told him, faux-sympathy dripping from each syllable, offering him a wink as a consolation prize. 

and gojo wished for tomorrow to come faster.

© mimi-sunny — all rights reserved

the moment you had met, he knew he was a doomed man – partly because of the curse your past-life-self had forced onto him but that wasn’t important right now. 

sylus was never wrong. and even if he happened to be, no one would ever dare point it out. and he wouldn’t even apologize – how could he when no one dared to hold him accountable in the first place?

well, no one but you. and he had found himself in quite a predicament. 

he knew better than to blame your sour mood on your period but it might just be the case, judging by how agitated you were when you couldn’t reach the stupid pads at the top of his stupidly high shelves. it got even worse when you ran out of your favorite cookies and brownies. barely any sanity of yours was spared when your favorite tube of ice cream was found ravaged by the twins and you reached your last straw when sylus offered you to maybe you should sit and calm down sweetie. 

“calm down?” you asked in a chilling tone.

luke and kieran had escaped the scene, running out of the mansion with ‘grocery shopping’ as their sole excuse. 

“do i look angry to you?” you went on, raising an eyebrow. 

sylus was an imposing man. he feared nothing and everything feared him. none ever dared to get on his way or provoke the slightest reaction out of him in fear of having his anger strike down in the shape of reddish, dark swirls strangling the light out of their eyes. 

he almost looked pitiful right now, the subject of your wrath. it was laughable. except you weren’t amused. 

“of course not, my love,” he shook his head, not wanting to upset you any further – although you claimed not to be upset. 

your lips twitched at the pet name but you refused to cave in. you turned your back to your husband, refusing to utter any word to him anymore. you just wanted a sweet treat and a long nap, maybe that’ll help with your cranky mood. 

but sylus saw his entire world shatter at this instant, watching you giving him the cold shoulder. his poor heart broke into thousands of pieces and he found himself a bit helpless at the second. he wasn’t used to this, really. taking accountability, dealing with people’s emotions. 

everything was so new and while he seemed to carry on with your relationship oh so easily, until you got married. he was still ridiculously helpless when you gave him the silent treatment. it was pathetic in a way that you found sick enjoyment in. and sylus did suspect that you loved him grovelling and begging, but that knowledge – while it made him smug – still didn’t help his shattered heart at the moment. 

“no, no,” he muttered, shaking his head, following suit behind you. he grabbed onto your shoulder, turning you around with his hands cupping your face tenderly despite his frantic movements. 

God, he was so sweet, you almost felt bad. almost. 

“don’t ignore me, sweetheart,” he breathed out and when he pressed a kiss to your forehead he was so grateful you even allowed him to be this close to you when you were probably bubbling with rage. 

you weren’t. in fact, you were so entertained it was getting harder and harder for you to keep a straight face.

but sylus, ever the perceptive man, somehow didn’t notice your clear amusement, too desperate to have you forgive him. 

so desperate you couldn't help the sudden gasp that slipped past your lips when he suddenly dropped to his knees, grabbing onto your hand and pressing it to his cheek. he looked up at you, eyes wide and full of guilt. 

you were conflicted, really. one the one hand, it was pretty attractive, the way he tossed everything he was just to earn your approval and your forgiveness. on the other hand, you felt terribly bad for pushing your little play so far. 

“if it’s about the cookies and brownies, i’ll buy you a lifetime stock of them,” he rambled, pressing a kiss to your palm, his other hand caressing your thigh up and down in what he hoped to be a soothing manner. “i’ll scold the twins and have them buy you ice cream every day,” he added and you cracked a smile at that, unable to keep your act up. 

“oh, sylus,” you chuckled, kneeling down in front of him and wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. “you’re so stupid, i love you,” you giggled gleefully and he would gladly turn into a jester if it meant bringing the sunshine back to your expression. 

he was so gone, truly. 

“i love you too,” he huffed out a laugh, all his nerves finally easing down, finding peace in your comfort. 

“you’re kinda hot when you beg, though,” you noted a couple of hours later, leaning against his sturdy chest while downing spoonful after spoonful of chocolate ice cream. 

“ah, i should’ve known you would find enjoyment in my distress,” sylus teased back, his fingers gently pinching your cheeks in disapproval.

© mimi-sunny — all rights reserved