Diamond Eyes - Gojo Satoru
Gojo's eyes shine like diamonds, an otherworldly sparkle to the sky blue that both entrances and unnerves. You tell him they're beautiful, despite all that comes with it.
Sometimes you'll be caught up at staring into his eyes without even noticing, you look at Gojo and think he should be a muse, painted infinitely even though no one will ever do him justice.
But on the nights when you wander into the kitchen for a drink, easily walking the familiar path in pitch darkness only for glowing pale eyes to stare at you from the darkness, you take it all back.
Half asleep and bleary eyed almost to the fridge and Gojo, who you hadn't even realized was missing from bed in your groggy trek, spins his head to stare at you, macron halfway to his mouth but all you see is piercing eyes from the darkness and barely stifle a scream.
Your heart is pounding in your ears and muscles painfully tensed in an instant when the eyes, bright and unrelenting crinkle from a smile, a chuckle you know so well emanating through the dark and your stomach drops.
"Satoru you asshole I said knock it off!"
Your shout breaks the quiet of the night and his laughing only gets louder while you stomp over to the light switch, flipping it on to see your lover, pig headed as ever, munching on leftover sweets you were meant to share in the morning.
(In reality he would eat most of his now, and beg you with ridiculously pleading tones and pouts to share in the morning, but wouldn't really take much more than his share.)
"You should have seen your face!" You can see he's trying, barely, to stomp full-on laughing at you, seething in your bunny slippers.
"Almost gave me a heart attack damn you Satoru." You swipe the half eaten macron from his hand, and three more from the counter for good measure, ignoring his whine.
Mumbling "Creepy motherfucker" as you stuff one into your mouth making him squawk indignantly.
"Hey! I thought you said I was beautiful, your one and only, perfect in every way, sculpted by the gods themselves, what happened to that? Have you only used me for snacks? To break my heart?"
You glare halfheartedly at him, tiredness coming back with the adrenaline from an unearthly threat seeping away, only your idiot boyfriend trying to pull his snacks closer to himself-away from you in the kitchen at 4am.
"I never said anything like that spiel, and certainly not to some weirdo that lurks in dark kitchens with LEDs piercing through his unsuspecting, thirsty, victim's souls."
You ignore his pathetic whining and head back to bed, glass of water in one hand and snatching the bakery bag from him in the other, as if he isn't right on your heels like he always is.
