Mystique

Satoru Gojo is the object an admiration at Jujutsu High, for guys and girls alike. His irresistible charm is what drew you to him. At the beginning of your relationship anyway.

You were the IT couple. Him - with his undeniable charisma and label as one of the most attractive guys on campus. And you - with your head turning allure and radiating sweetness.

But he was a flirt, and not just to you.

At first, you just chalked it up to the fact that he hadn't ever had a proper girlfriend, just flings and hookups.

But it wasn't just an innocent laugh with a girl once in a while. It was the constant flirting with any girl who looked his way when you had your back turned at one of the many parties his frat hosted.

He told you he was just being friendly as per 'frat duties'.

But your friends noticed, how he would spend more time with other girls than you, and the way he never really focused on you in the little time you spent together between classes.

He never cheated on you, directly at least. But he was never loyal to you either. You were just a pretty accessory that hung off his arm and his reputation.

You were sick of it.

One messy break up and a month long hiatus from your hectic social life later, here you are. Wading through the sea of bodies of the Sigma Chi frat house, loosely gripping onto Kirara's hand, in an attempt to make it to the plethora of bottles on the island across from the door where you'd entered.

'I'm here solely for the alcohol and the music Kirara,' you deadpan.

And as if on cue, Justin Timberlake's 'Rock your body' starts through the speakers.

You grab Kirara's hand once again, holding your red solo cup filled with something that she had poured for you - indistinguishable (but obviously alcoholic). You haul her towards the centre of the room where people had gathered swaying to the velvety voice of Justin that weaves through the room.

'I don't need another relationship to worry about.' you yell at her.

'A drunk make out wouldn't hurt anyone' she yells back.

You brush off the comment, letting the music invade your senses and rid you of the stress of everyday life.

You almost forget that you're at a party until a very tipsy Utahime snaps you out of your daze.

'I haven't seen you at one of these in ages. It's so great to finally see you outside of class again,' she beams.

'Yeah it's great to see you've finally stopped sulking over Satoru,' Shoko mutters from next to Utahime, clearly already high off something you don’t care to find out about.

'I'd rather not think about him right now, or ever.'

‘That’s the spirit, babe’ Kirara speaks, her voice now muffled by the cup she’s downing.

‘On that note I’m getting a refill, do any of you guys want one?’ You say, already turning to locate the kitchen island hazy from the music - which has now moved on to 2000s R&B hits - and the alcohol which has slowly started taking effect.

‘I’ll come with,’ Kirara replies.

~

When the two of you finish pouring your drinks, the alcohol to mixer ratio increasing significantly on your part, you find your friends on a crinkled leather couch. Utahime is babbling on about the latest campus gossip with Mai Zenin, Shoko nodding along in between drags of a cigarette.

When you and Kirara approach the couch, the girls shift Utahime sits on its’ arm and you find yourself sandwiched between Shoko, who seems to be zoning out, and Mai, who is deep in conversation with Utahime about who’s sleeping with who in her bio class. Kirara has disappeared off somewhere with Hakari.

You sip your drink and scan the room, until your eyes land on Choso.

He’s sitting across from you most of his body obscured by the various people that crowd the dance floor between you. But you recognise him anyway, from the beat up pair of vans he’s been wearing since his feet stopped growing and the arm that hangs from the arm of the couch he’s on fingers pinching a blunt.

To say you’ve known Choso for a while would be an understatement, the two of you were attached at the hip from the time you could count to ten.

You’ve practically known him your whole life, growing up in the same town and going to the same school for the entirety of your formal education, including now.

~

‘I’ll catch up with you guys later,’ you say, as you stand up from the couch, Utahime’s gossip beginning to bore you.

You weave through the clusters of people on the dance floor, drink in hand, flopping next to Choso when you reach him.

‘Hey Cho’ you drawl out.

‘Hey,’ he replies his tattooed arm shifting from the side of the couch to hover over your lap. He offers you the blunt between his fingers, which you gladly accept.

You take a long drag, letting the smoke warm your insides before releasing it through your mouth. ‘How’s the art coursework going,’ you ask, handing him back the blunt.

’Can’t complain,’ he shrugs, before taking a drag and tilting his head back, exhaling smoke upward.

~

The world seemed to stop when you were with Choso, in a way you can’t explain. You could simply be sitting there in pure silence and it’d still feel like you were the only two people in the room.

You’d always been able to find that solace in his presence.

~

The mix of weed and shitty alcohol invading your system clouds the two of you in a comfortable stillness.

You lean close to Choso as your choice of outfit starts to backfire on you, a sudden chill slowly seeping in.

You look up, half-lidded eyes wandering his sleek face framed by his messy black hair. His piercings glimmer in the light, eyeliner vaguely defines his brown eyes bloodshot from the amount he’s smoked since he arrived at the party. The tattoo that stretches across the bridge of his nose moves slightly as he inhales.

‘Cho’ you whine, as you watch him take another drag from the diminishing blunt.

‘I wanna smoke more but, m’cold,’ you turn to face him. You tuck your hands between your thighs to warm them.

Before you can say anything further Choso moves his head closer to yours and stops just before your lips meet. He grabs the back of your neck gently and blows the smoke he’s been holding in his mouth, into yours.

‘Does that help?’ he murmurs, his lips still inches away from your own.

You can only nod at him, your brain misty from what had just happened.

He pulls away producing a silver, antique lighter from his pocket along with a small baggie of pre-rolls. You had given that to him for his sixteenth birthday and since then it has been his most prized possession.

He gives you the lighter to hold as he opens up the baggie and pulls out a blunt. He brings the blunt to his lips and you flick the lighter open holding it to the blunt.

You close the lighter as quickly as you opened it, tracing the engraved patterns on it absent-mindedly.

Choso takes the lighter from your grasp, fingers brushing yours gingerly. He leans towards you, releasing smoke into your mouth once again.

This time, he doesn’t lean away when he’s done. He moves closer hesitantly.

‘Can I?’ He whispers.

You answer his question by pressing your lips against his in a kiss. He kisses back, hands moving to settle on your waist.

Pulling away slowly, you wait for him to say something.

‘I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,’ he says, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

‘Me too,’ you hum softly in response.

You shift on to his lap, arms curling around his neck as his tongue slides into your mouth. You taste weed, mint and something alcoholic as you lose yourself in him.

You pull back and lay your head on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath.

Maybe coming to this party wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

~

Unbeknownst to you, Gojo stands watching the two of you from across the room, slack jawed.