𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 → jjk x m! reader

22. | killing me.

— 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒍𝒆 taken from: ikon

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To Gojo Satoru, [L/n] [Y/n] has always been an enigma, a sorcerer who straddles the fine line between being both perplexing and straightforward at the same time. He doesn't really know how else to explain it.

To him, [Y/n] is a mysterious puzzle that can never be solved. Like unraveling a tangled knot of yarn that would keep slipping through his fingers. Like navigating a shifting labyrinth while blindfolded, with each step forward taking him further and further away from the answer.

[Y/n] is an enigma. And it is this fact that draws Satoru's eyes to him every time—an almost drowning shade of blue that will eerily follow wherever the [h/c] haired sorcerer goes.

Satoru can't help it.

Not when those [e/c] eyes would unflinchingly fix their gaze back at him, dulling all his heightened senses into nothing but a mere whisper. It has happened many times, and Satoru remembers vividly the first time it occurred.

[Y/n] was a quiet thing the first time they met, expression still as a pond on a windless day despite the attempted jabs Satoru made during the welcoming party for the new first years. Unlike Nanami, who would shoot annoyed glares, or Haibara, who would politely laugh at his jokes, [Y/n] remained unfazed.

And Satoru would have thought him shy, perhaps intimidated by him even, if not for the unnerving stare the [h/c] haired sorcerer immediately sends upon seeing his approaching figure.

His Six Eyes reacted strangely in [Y/n]'s presence.

"It's [Y/n], right?" Satoru asked in his best attempt at a not-so-haughty tone.

Suguru had once told him to adjust his tone, and he tried, but it was practically impossible to undo the years of arrogance etched into his being, especially when he didn't want to in the first place.

[Y/n] blinked slowly, his gaze roaming over Satoru's body beneath lowered eyelashes, before speaking with a voice as smooth as velvet, "I'd prefer it if you just call me by my last name, Gojo-senpai."

Well, now, Satoru certainly wasn't expecting [Y/n] to spout out his name like poison at all. Did this guy hate him already or something?

Satoru narrowed his eyes in response, expecting hate or envy to follow suit, but no, that wasn't what happened at all.

Instead of a sneer, or coy laughter filled with disgust, [Y/n] favored him with a small smile, simple and maybe, in Satoru's eyes anyway, a little sweet.

Satoru immediately felt conflicted, standing in front of the [h/c] haired male with a confused frown etched on his face. For once, Satoru stayed silent, and in that silence, Satoru noticed... that [Y/n]'s eyes were glowing a little lighter, a fleeting touch of a spark dancing within beautiful [e/c] hues.

A wave of nausea washed over him, and Satoru's body reacted faster than he could think.

He took a step back.

[Y/n] raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong, senpai?" The question was asked fleetingly, but [Y/n]'s smirk betrayed any hint of concern in his tone.

"It's nothing," Satoru quickly replied, diverting the conversation with a question of his own. "What did you say your cursed technique was again?"

[Y/n] smiled, a twinkle in his eyes as he chuckled. "Couldn't you find that out on your own with those eyes of yours?"

Satoru gave [Y/n] no answer. And before he even could, Shoko had already called everyone up to gather around—some bonding moment that he couldn't bother to remember.