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Your eyes didn't need to be open to know that he was looking at you. Deft and lean fingers carded and twirled with the strands of your hair that were splayed over his lap. The soft wind that blew through the Gojo estate drove the smell of summer to you.
Satoru's fingers would sometimes wander to your face, tracing your features, following your jawline where at times his lips replaced his fingers. His lap was comfortable, sleep worthy even. Not to mention the extra plush the traditional clothing he had on that helped guide your head to its place.
You also didn't need your eyes to be open to know that any minute now he would say something stupid.
"Hey babe?"
"Mm?" your eyes still closed.
"Did you hear about the Italian chef who died?"
You furrowed your brows, you haven't heard that one before.
"What Italian chef are you talking about Satoru."
"C'mon just answer the question." You could practically hear the pout in his voice. Which if you didn't listen, would turn to a tantrum. In turn it would turn into Satoru proclaiming that you didn't love him anymore, that if you really did you would have just answered. You decided to save yourself the hassle.
"No Satoru, I haven't heard about the Italian chef who died."
"Really? Cause he pasta-way."
"..."
Finally opening your eyes, you could see small wide pools of blue staring down at you. Observing you as if he were a cat watching someone from across the room. Except you were lying your head on his lap, and he picked up a strand of your hair and started tickling your face with it.
When he reached your mouth, you blew at your own hair. earning yourself a 'so mean' from your boyfriend. But that didn't stop him from continuing to draw unknown shapes on your face.
He looked handsome. Although he was a teenager he still held his baby face within his features. But you could tell within a few short years the subtle baby fat still residing in his cheeks would soon fade to be replaced with a sharp jawline, maybe a more striking smile. The pink however, that always seemed to dust his face whenever he was with you, you hoped it never went away. And you hoped that the look he gave you with his eyes, you hoped that that stayed as long as you lived.
"Why're you lookin' at me like that, pretty? You in love with me or something?"
Satoru was such a tease.
"Mm, with your money maybe."
Satoru knew you were joking, but that didn't stop him from dropping the strand of hair he was playing with and releasing a sharp gasp from his pink and smooth lips (you suspect he was using your chapstick, Satoru respectfully disagrees). He laid a hand over his chest, as if he was in pain.
"I knew it! You're just like the rest of them! Maybe I should've listened to the old geezers when they told me you were bad news."
That made you laugh, a sound coming from deep within your abdomen, making your body slightly quake. That sound never failed to make a smile appear on Satoru's face, so much so that he even smiled with his eyes. His skin crinkled at the edges.
Lifting your arms, you placed you hands on his cheeks, pulling him in a little.
"Baby, you're the one who's bad news. Not me."
Satoru hummed, enjoying the way you were slightly squishing his lips together and stroking his face. "The baddest, they just can't get enough of me."
That put a smile on your face, Satoru was so stupid.
"Why did they even summon you here anyway, Satoru?"
The question made satoru scoff slightly and roll his eyes. Stupid, he could have made that look less hot than it was.
"Stupid old farts wanna know how I'm doing at Jujutsu Tech. I'm their dear 'Satoru-kun' who's the face of the clan and that I need to act like it. I swear most of them probably have something stuck up their ass so deep they'll probably die with whatever's in there."
He huffed, nuzzling the side of his face with one of your palms. You always calmed him; your presence, your smell. Everything about you made his mind calm but at the same time you made his heart race so much that he feared it would jump out of his chest — leaving him to chase after it only to give it to you on the palm of his hand. Satoru Gojo was the strongest, ever since birth. But he swears you made him the weakest man alive.
Satoru pouted when he felt you lift yourself from his lap, ready to whine before he felt you guide his head to yours instead.
"You don't look so young yourself Satoru, you might as well be an old fart."
"Hey! I am young and beautiful, thank you very much! The white hair just adds to my charm, it's all natural. Guys wish they could be me."
You smiled, leaning down to softly peck his lips.
"That's all they'll ever do then. You're one of a kind. My Satoru."
Satoru grinned, grabbing onto your forearms as you stared down at him while he stared at you. "All yours."