you don't consider yourself a klutz by any means, but for some fucked up reason, you have developed the very unfortunate habit of embarrassing yourself in front of gojo satoru.
why? why was this your fate? why did you have to be so clumsy and uncoordinated whenever you were in near proximity? it was just your luck that humiliating yourself in front of a cute guy—a special grade sorcerer, no less—became a staple in your daily routine.
"whoa," he says, jutting his arm out in front of you so you don't slam head first into a newly opening door. behind the door, you hear the new student, okkotsu, cry out, and inumaki yell, "tuna!"
the coffee in your hand (a necessity for dealing with teenage jujutsu high students) goes flying in surprise, and you squeak when your neck hits the spot right by gojo's elbow. you flail in an attempt to avoid being clotheslined, but the sorcerer manages to twist his body, looping his other hand around your waist before you can slip on your wasted drink.
you blink, and you're in another part of the hallway. "easy," he says lightly. "that could've been nasty."
"uh, yeah," you say, a little dumbfounded, but also severely distracted by how tall he is. (you're around him everyday, but honestly, you try not to think about it, because it's very bad news for you and your workload if you allow yourself to be distracted by satoru's height, of all things.) you clear your throat and step away from his hold, and he casually slips his hands into his pockets.
"sensei!" okkotsu calls from behind you. "we're so sorry!"
"okaka!" inumaki joins in, worry etched on his brow.
they bow at the hips, stiff and trembling (okkotsu more so), and you turn to wave a hand.
"no harm done," you want to say, but gojo beats you to it.
"you spilled her coffee!" he says, standing so casually—and tall, god damn, he looks like a model—with his hands in his pockets and head slightly tilted. "now she has to go get one!"
the students pale at that. "uh—" okkotsu starts, but gojo sighs dramatically before the student can continue.
"i'll go buy her a new one," he says, stepping forward.
your neck nearly snaps in two in your hasty attempt to look at him. "what?"
"classes are called off," gojo sighs dramatically. "we'll settle the coffee issue first then i'll update you on your next mission. now, scram. back to your dorms."
it doesn't take long for them to vanish (with an angry-looking maki popping out of the classroom, still with a respectful bow despite the steam practically coming out of her ears), and when they do, you look back at gojo with a frown. "why'd you let them go? classes—"
"—are not as important as making sure you get your coffee," he interrupts with a smile. you feel like he's looking at you through his blindfold, but you can't tell. "come on. let's go get another one."
he leans forward then, so fast that as if he transported himself into position. "please?" he murmurs next to your ear. "my treat."
your face heats up. "um."
he leans back, and his hand slowly climbs up to his face. your throat feels like its closing up at the sight of him tugging up his blindfold and fixing his impossibly blue eye on you.
"besides," he drawls, his gaze fixed on you. "i'd feel very hurt if you picked a bunch of kids over me."
it's really no surprise that you find yourself in a very fancy coffee shop thirty minutes later, watching gojo's tall form wait patiently in line, stepping forward when needed.
you sniff and look away. was it too late to mention that the coffee you'd prepared that morning was just instant?
stormborns
titsay
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