Legion: Italics = Flashbacks. Bold italics:Well, that's gonna be a secret.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
˗ˏˋ ♡ 'ˎ˗ 2007 | 2017───It's comical how love appears to work in secretive ways. One minute you're a high school teenager; un-ironically bumping into a random stranger on campus, and then you start to dislike them because of how outgoing their personality was—all while becoming acquainted. With mild hatred slowly brewing inside, comes acceptance and are forced to deal with their gags in youth.
Duration appears to skip a decade and you are in a new world where you are married to said person from high school—the one who completely stole your heart and wore it proudly on their sleeve. Gojo Satoru. They were vibrant as a peach; glowing and reigning a youthful image despite aging. Nevertheless, a gnawing sensation has settled deep within their gut—a untruth that will eventually be unveiled.
"Satoru, you have to marry them, please-." "Huh? I don't want to marry a random stranger! Sugur, please, I want to be with you."
"But,-" "I don't care if you're dying, I want to grow old and have children with you."
"Satoru-!"
-Honey, did you hear me?" Blinking his sights a few times, Satoru quickly glanced around before detecting the customary and dreamy fragrance of caffeine in the air, and freshly baked pastries that were being inhaled through his nose. Under the navy blindfold Satoru wore that covered his oceanic visions, he took note that he was seated at a small booth—logically speaking, he was not exactly the shortest in height due to his genetics, so one of his knees reaching to touch the bottom of the table made his eyebrow twitch.
Upon realization, Satoru recalled the same voice that had spoken out to him. It was his spouse. Oh right, he was married.
He was actually married, and not to the love of his-
Letting out a small chuckle, Satoru felt an object in his palms. He was holding onto something--a Latté or Hot Cocoa perhaps? Possibly one of those sweet drinks with whipped cream the youth of today orders—what is it called again? —ah! a Frappéchino! Gradually raising the cup towards his lips, he shivered at the coldness but mellowed out once he tasted the sweetness of caramel mixed in with the foamy crème and than brought it back down onto the coaster.
"Ha, of coarse I was listening. Sugar, you know I love it when you speak~." Truth be told, Satoru found it hard to form a proper sentence because he did not want to seem insensitive. Especially with that nickname. It didn't feel right using it—matter a fact it made him feel disgusted inside, but he could not do anything because he has been calling them "Sugar" since they started "dating" back in high school.
"Ah, I still can't believe Jujutsu Tech's very own High Scholl sweet hearts have gotten married!!"
"Everyone, rise up for the married couple of 2008: Gojo [Name] and Satoru."
"Say Sugar," Satoru desperately wanted to add "ru" at the end of the word, but had to mentally stop himself from doing so. Succeeding, he gently pushed his drink aside and leaned over, his shoulders resting onto the table and extended his hand over to feel for his lover. Time felt slow as he was mentally counting, but stopped when he felt the warmth of a smaller palm being placed onto his larger ones.
"You still up for that carnival date later?" Feeling his palm being squeezed, Satoru noted they must have been happy he asked. Smiling, he lifted up their connecting palms, gently caressing the soft skin and positioned his lips lovingly on top of their hand.
