gojo

Noisy break. Someone is yelling in the hallway, someone is running, someone is always dropping something. And you, Hannah, as usual - sit by the window, leaf through your textbook, as if you are really interested in it.

But you feel it - how the air around you changes. It becomes too quiet. And there he is.

“The nerd is in place, everything is stable,” says a voice that you would recognize even in your sleep.

You look up. Gojo Satoru.

He leans against your desk, almost laying his chest on it, brazenly invading your space. His white hair seems to be deliberately tousled, his blue eyes sparkle - either from boredom or from an eternal desire to mock.

• Listen, you sit here every day like a ghost, - he smirks. - Maybe you should start talking instead of scaring everyone with your silence?

You answer calmly, without even looking at him:

• Maybe you should start behaving like a normal person? Or is it too difficult?

He grins. "Oh, we got claws here? How cute."

He rests his palms on your desk and leans closer:

• You know, you're so "don't touch me" that it's already becoming... interesting.

You look up sharply, straight into his eyes.

• And you’re all “everyone wants me,” but it’s more pathetic than attractive.

He pauses for a second. Then he snorts. “Sharp tongue… I like it. Dangerous.”

He slowly moves away, still looking at you. And you see: he is pleased. He got a reaction. Again.

“Okay, Hannah,” he says, heading for the exit. “See you later. Same as always. You can’t ignore me.”

He leaves, and you're alone again. But now your heart is beating too loudly. You're angry. At him. At yourself. Because part of you is waiting for him to come back.