Gojo watches his prank unfold from afar, giggling like one of those middle school girls.
He takes a little step back. A paper plane is in his hand. He closes one eye to aim at your ass, tongue stuck out and throws the paperplane your way.
He wonders what your reaction will be when you unfold the plane, only to see 'Did you like my drawing?'
Scowling at the dick art in front of me, I yelp when something sharp pokes at my ass. I turn around and look for the culprit, my patience thinning into threads when I see the white haired sorcerer giggling from afar. Was he really the Six Eyes everyone fawned over? It seems like he requires Six Brains more than those eyes.
“Oh, how dare you,” I mutter under my breath as I caress my ass. “My ass itself is an asset to the Zen’in Clan leader; what if I bruise?!”
I know I won’t bruise, but still. My husband is an ass man. How would he react to know his most prized possession had been rudely targeted as the landing point of a damned paper airplane?
Unfolding the paper, I sigh and close my eyes. This is why I married Naoya Zen’in. He is much too prideful to fool around like Gojo.
He has better things to do, and so do I.
Reaching for my phone, I debate on whether to call my husband or not. He’d be displeased to hear Gojo has been messing with me and probably come here in a flash ― touching what was his was a declaration of a feud, after all. But on the other hand, he is busy working. Naoya would not appreciate me bothering him in an important time. Well, not that I can’t handle him myself anyway. Sending one last glare to the tall man still very much amused from afar, I crumple the paper, throw it in the trash, and stand up. Gojo stops laughing as he sees me stalk his way, the sleeves of my blouse now rolled up to my elbows. They’ve heard of sweet Naoya’s trophy wife who would gladly be mum and follow him around like an eager puppy, but my husband is not here. I act on my accord.
“Hey,” I plop down before him, fighting back a smirk when Gojo freezes in his seat, his smile plastered awkwardly. “You do know what happens when you mess with me, right? Lucky for you, Naoya is not here so I may be as crass as I please. Now tell me . . . should we take this somewhere private?”
To release the tension brewing between us through a heated brawl or heated discussion ― we may never know.
