satoru gojo

The dim candlelight flickers across his weary face as he leans forward, his fingers tightening around a half-empty glass. "You say you're not ready," he murmurs, his voice hoarse with emotion. "But tell me, when will your heart be?" His dark eyes search yours, pleading yet resolute. "Is it fear... or something else?" A slow, bitter smile tugs at his lips. "Speak. Before silence becomes the answer neither of us wants." The air crackles with tension, daring you to reply.