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Gojo is all crooked grins and mischievous lips and you love the taste in between them. And you thought about the lies coming from his mouth. You refused to believe that he doesn't lie, but Gojo is an enigma and despite the weird differences he has, you kissed him, and just like any other day you kiss him, he will taste like the desert he so obsessively like at times like peaches and sweet cream or sometimes like the eighty percent sugar content of ice coffee he orders with caramel and an extra shot of sugary syrup and all the sweetness combine he would ask the barista to concoct for him. You will not call it a coffee and if you were the owner of the shop, you would kick him out and ban him.
He was named after gods. Heroes. they might call him Achilles or kneel in front of him to worship. Many hated his guts, his elders, and the higher table of Jujutsu high but they crumbled in fear in the mere mention of his name. You would not exactly say you do not fear him, however, the boyish grin and all the flirtatious comebacks whenever you bicker lessen it but Gojo is Gojo, he will make you still feel inferior no matter how much you exchange annoying yet hilarious silly remarks to each other. He makes you feel at times like you do not belong here and whenever you see an opening into his infinity he will fucking blast you off and remind you where you stand. Stupid, stupid Gojo with his six eyes that do not see.
Nanami or Nanamin to Gojo, to say the least, sees the honored one as someone stupid too. A fool on top of that. But as much as he doesn't want to admit it, he understood the bearer of six eyes. He is glorious. He is god incarnate. Pristine yet untouchable. Gojo Satoru is not good with feelings and it's still unknown to many if it's because of his big ego or because he is simply Gojo Satoru. Nanami is unsure as well, hence, he understands him to some unexplainable extent. However, Gojo is still stupid. Nanami ever so often witnesses the short-lived tenderness of Gojo's eyes even with the blindfolds whenever he looks at you, especially when you laugh your brains off with anything the kids ridiculously do. A slip of softness but Nanami knew it was there.
You sometimes write about him reminiscing your youth. He is seventeen at most while you are months younger. Boy-god, your mother called him. He stood tall for his age with piercing eyes of electric blue, no, perhaps thunder or the deep colors of the sky. He is god, immortalized with your words or when you kissed him under the colds of night and he felt cruel on your skin like those spiders, crawled and crawled under your clothes, under the touches he left. He is there. Marked his place and said "Mine. Mine. Mine." and you hated him for it but despite cruelness, he is so beautiful. Gods are beautiful, after all.
Gojo at seventeen is a headache and Gojo at seventeen is much worse than when he is twenty-eight. You kissed him and he kissed you back and he touched you where he wasn't supposed to wander. You do not know if you were thankful that you managed to stop him because the bruising on your neck he left is like a medal of honor he won from a battle. He liked it but he never liked you.
He doesn't like you. This you are certain but when he calls you sweetheart in between moans. You nearly forget that Gojo Satoru is not capable of love. Everyone's aware of it. Gojo "the asshole" Satoru is just all dick and power but never love and tender. Yet Gojo Satoru is your Gojo Satoru. No matter how he doesn't want to be owned. No matter how far reached he could be. He is your Satoru. He is yours and he owns you especially when he marks you like his. "Gojo Satoru was here. Here and here." He kisses every nuke and corner of your body and you thought this is not so bad even without any strings involved. You can live like this and who cares if he doesn't love you? He fucks you as if he does and you return the favor and fucks him because you do. You fucking love a dumbass and not the type of "Believe me I can change him," monologue but more like an unrequited one.
He finally confessed to you and greeted your death at the front door of his steps at the same time. He did not cry. The honored one never cries or at least he never let himself weep. Gods do not cry and Gojo Satoru is god. What makes you think your death will make any difference? Will make Gojo weak on his knees and cry? But the memories you left are much more of a weighing mass that wears his heart down. Because for fuck sake, you were still his childhood friend who shows unexpectedly with cake on both hands and sings him happy birthday. You love baking and he loves sweets. When you fix him up and scrub the blood and dirt off his skin, Shoko will be a perfect good-to-go but Gojo likes the delicateness of your touch on his exposed skin. He would purposely not dodge an attack just so he would bleed a little. His ego shatters but nothing he could not fix. And most of all you are pretty, a little too much that it hurts particularly with your brave smile and shining eyes.
He thought you were both pretty and strong and stupid. An almost match made in heaven. What a perfect combination you make huh?
The visit to your home is now his new routine. The faint scent of lavender on your unreplaced pillowcases and sheets now almost smells like his cologne. He will buy the same perfume you wore and sprayed it all over your place or his place or on his clothes just so he could not forget the smallest parts of you.
He likes lying down on your bed while he reads your letters that were tucked safely on a small wooden box disregarded inside your closet. He loves the part where every ending engraved the smallest, bold, uncapitalized and carefully written "i.l.y."
You never told him those words, and he never got the chance to tell you that he does, painfully late but he does too. And yes he is stupid and he tells that to himself. "Stupid, stupid Gojo with his six eyes that do not see."
or
"Stupid, stupid me that loved you too early but admitted it too late."
Gojo Satoru does not cry but he sure as hell feels his heart turning cold. He will never love again.