𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 (𝓖𝓸𝓳𝓸 𝔁 𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻)

.｡*♡Build.｡*♡

word count: 1,379

.｡*♡.｡*♡.｡*♡.｡*♡.｡*♡.｡*♡.｡*♡.｡*♡.｡*♡

As the sun rose into view, y/n and Satoru simultaneously decided to clean the mess that had been created by LeRoy. Smaller set of hands in his, Gojo's blindfolded eyes searched her fingertips, rough yet feminine.

He shook his head at the multitude of scratches, making y/n sigh. It took a good minute of begging Satoru, hoping to convince him that she was good to pick up the shards. Her fingers were still hurt from holding them, so he continuously insisted on doing it himself.

The sorcerer gently helped her to her feet before hesitantly leaving her side to retrieve the medical kit stored in front of the studio. His tenderness was quite jarring, considering how quickly he had arrived from LeRoy's departure. 

Satoru returned, enveloping her wrists in his large hands, carefully wiping away the dried residue with a small gauze.

"I'm fine," y/n clicked her tongue, trying to wriggle her hands from his grasp.

"Don't lie to me, y/n." The sorcerer had a small smile on his face, though he seemed to be rather serious through forced chuckles.

Y/n, stubborn, tried again to convince him.

"Come on, I'm not soft," she reasoned.

"I never said-" he ripped open a packet of sanitary pads with his teeth, watching her carefully. "I never said you were soft."

In fact, Gojo perceived her as far from it. Hell, she was the first woman to have him stumbling over every word from just a single glance. He knew she was strong, confident (how much of it was a façade due to her past, he did not know), yet in this moment the sorcerer knew she had crumbled just a bit from Promise, despite her playful act. There was a twisted resolve mixed with mild despair. As if she didn't truly think there was another way out of this... debt-ful rut.

"You just don't need to do this," y/n sighed, leaning back.

"I do it because I care. About you."

Y/n glanced at him, indifferent to his words.

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

Satoru furrowed his brow at the technicality within her words, constantly shifting between defensiveness and lighthearted jesting.

"Just sit there and look pretty while I patch you up," he murmured, his tongue swiping across his lips in an awkward concentration- as if he wasn't trying to acknowledge what he just said.

Y/n paused for a moment, her nose scrunching automatically from his successful attempt at shutting her up.

An amused shock overcame her, stilling the remaining anxieties from hours before. Her e/c stare bore into him, almost daunting the sorcerer to say something else; to expand on that shy flirtation.

His eyes did not meet her gaze however as he rotated her wrist, clumsily wrapping another band-aid around her finger.

"Sit and look pretty?" she echoed, lifting a brow.

They did not speak another word as Satoru trained his gaze onto her hands, not daring to look anywhere else.

Always getting shy...

Minutes later, Satoru finished fixing up her hands to the best of his ability. They had returned to the older banter, with Gojo insisting she sit and rest as he cleaned the shattered clay.