#scaledhit

          No one ever pegged her for the stubborn type always expectant for her to be malleable like silk, easy to bend at will, this way, that way, up, and down without protest. But she despite all his vocalization would ignore him ---  head turned away, a slight huff leaving her. Even when he reached for her his hand would be swatted ( still  gentle ). It came with a purpose she wanted to hide her complexion riddled with bandages hiding away lacerations, bruises peeking from the edges of cotton. 

          She looked foolish --- ‘come back another day’ she had told him with back facing him and he being intuitive had picked up on odd behavior. Persistent she thought. It was at the sixth try that she let up. Maybe it was that voice ( soothing with a husky timbre it was almost criminal ) --- or the sudden warmth that swept onto her the moment he stepped near. If she dwelled on it, it was actually everything. 

          A small noise, as hands hefty yet tender when laid upon her skin had moved her and she followed yearning for that touch. She became like silk under him, how ironic. Breath hitched --- eyes met, spectacles were absent and she with an obsidian gaze saw past that gentleness and worry --- he seemed tired. Small within his touch she reached to place a hand at the top of one of his own. 

Send “🤝” to hold my muses hand @scaledhit​ | no longer accepting.

Gojo’s laughter is joyous, innocently, without a care in the world and it reflects in the way he hops while holding Nanami’s hand and swings their arms back and forth and back and forth and-

There is no other reason for them to hold hands except that Gojo decided on holding Nanami’s hand while they are on a mission together and no matter what, Nanami can’t ignore him, needs him, a team, the two of them~

“Nanami, Nanami, Nanami”

* ∘ ∙ — soft sentence starters (pt 7)

          Just as words were spoken, she was quick to push the bouquet within his grasp. Vibrant pinks and reds contrasting against his blue shirt. He looked absolutely ...out of place with the bundle of flowers, yet the image was charming.

          Gaze lowered as fingers inched to fix the bouquet, a few stems lay out of place from the rough handling....In reality it was to hide the subtle discoloration against the curves of cheeks. She could only grow timid under his gaze worsened when he spoke something so --- sweet.

            ❛ I didn’t think you were the type to speak to flowers. ❜ Mumbled under a breath, still tediously fixing a bouquet that was now being overworked.