you don’t even have to look up to know that someone’s staring, the weight of impossible bright azure eyes burning into you, softening the second they find yours.
and sure enough, when you peek over, you find him exactly as expected, cerulean orbs following every absentminded stroke of your brush.
the moment your reflections meet, the corners of his mouth lift, a faint smile on his lips deepening, with no attempt to look away.
his chin balances lazily in his palm, looking completely content to do nothing more than watch you.
your cheeks start to heat up, quickly busying yourself, brushing through your strands again and again with unnecessary vigor.
long, deliberate strokes turn into quicker ones, bristles dragging through your hair with just a little more force than needed.
your eyes refuse to wander from the mirror, determined to prove—partly to yourself—that you are absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent not ogling him, and that his stupid grin isn’t growing because of you.
though it's impossible not to—it's satoru gojo’s gaze after all, intense, fond and completely focused on you.
every time your gaze slips upward, it catches his reflection still fixed on yours, impossibly teal eyes crinkling ever so slightly whenever they meet for the briefest second.
and right on cue, a few stubborn strands begin to twirl themselves around the bristles, tightening into an inevitable knot, with every attempt only cinching tighter with every pull.
you wince, trying to tug through it gently, but a sharp sting makes you hiss through your teeth.
“do i distract you that much, m’lady?” an obnoxious voice from the corner of the room emerges, full of lazy amusement and barely concealed smugness.
he's already watching you, languidly stretched across the bedding with one arm propped up behind his head, sprawled out on the mattress as if he's meant to be anywhere you are.
you feel the mattress dip below you before you see him, his presence warm and familiar as he settles against your back.
his chin comes to rest on your shoulder, and his hand reaches out, gently covering yours.
"let me," he murmurs, his voice soft and sincere now, all teasing gone.
his fingers intertwine with yours, prying the comb from your grip, your fingers uncurling on their own.
his hands are warm and steady, breath gently fanning across your ear in soft, warm puffs, a shiver skimming across your skin.
his touch is impossibly featherlight, brushing against your scalp as he works.
“..there we go," he whispers, finally freeing the tangle.
he sets the comb down but doesn't pull away.
instead, his hands settle on your shoulders, thumbs tracing slow, soothing circles into the cotton of your sweater.
"you know," he murmurs, the words grazing over the shell of your ear.
"i was gonna be a gentleman and just help you with your hair. but now i'm distracted again."
you sigh, ducking your head, though your lips twitch despite your best efforts.
he hums, as if his answer requires careful thought, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.
“..by how ridiculously adorable you look.”
a groan slips past your lips.
“oh my gosh, you’re so sappy.”
“i’m not kidding! when you’re this cute..”
he replies without missing a beat.
“makes it really hard to stay on task.”
“well, you wanna braid it?”
“well, since you asked me sooo nicely…
“i suppose i’ll give it a try.”
thank you for reading, please like and reblog (๑>◡<๑)ྀིྀི.
