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sherewrytes · 3 days ago

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Thank you so much. I'm glad people enjoy the story. I appreciate thr kind words truly.

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 4

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Taglist: @for-hearthand-home@clp-84@thelightknight21@favvkiki

if you wanna be added to the tag list comment

Fic Playlist

Song for this chapter: Happier than ever Billie Ellish

You can listen to the songs mentioned to the fic in order if you desire

Masterlist

Chapter 4: Broken then ever

I paced my apartment, the weight of everything pressing down on me. I kept replaying the argument in my head—the way I shoved him, how my hands trembled when I pushed him out.

I shouldn’t have let him fuck me,

I thought, biting my lip until it hurt. I knew better. I knew what I was doing.

But God, I missed him. The way he held me, the way he kissed me. The way he made everything feel like it could be okay, even for a little while. That’s what hurt the most. I could still feel the warmth of his body beside me, the weight of his touch lingering on my skin. I wanted to scream, to tear everything apart, because I couldn’t make sense of it.

I reached for my phone again, hesitated, then put it back down.

Stop it, Y/N.

I thought.

You’ve made your decision.

I couldn’t bring myself to contact him again, not after everything. After the fight. After the way he acted, the way he kept pulling away from me. His indifference after losing his grandfather, all the walls he put up, all the times he made me feel like I was asking for too much, too often. I didn’t deserve that. I didn’t deserve to feel so small.

But fuck, I missed him.

I stopped pacing and grabbed the nearest bottle of wine from the kitchen, uncorking it with a quick, frustrated twist. I poured myself a glass, my hand shaking ever so slightly as I brought it to my lips. The taste of alcohol hit me like a wave, a temporary escape from the overwhelming ache in my chest.

I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have let him back in. I should’ve been stronger than this.

I gulped down the wine, setting the glass down harder than I meant to. I wiped my eyes, angry at myself for even crying. What was the point? What good did it do me? I’d given so much of myself to him, to this relationship, and for what? For him to turn into someone who could barely even look me in the eye, for him to keep pushing me away when all I wanted was to be close.

I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging at the ends in frustration. My thoughts were spiraling, and I couldn’t stop them. I don’t want this. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I felt a wave of nausea rise in my throat. Was I really this pathetic? Could I not even get through one night without missing him?

Suddenly, I felt the tears begin to fall again, one after the other, the dam I’d built up breaking and spilling over. I sank to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. I hated this. I hated how much I loved him, hated how he could destroy me with just a few words, a look, the smallest sign that he cared, that he was still here.

Maybe this was it.

Maybe I had been fooling myself, believing that he would change, that things would go back to how they used to be. But deep down, I knew better. He wasn’t the same Sukuna I had fallen in love with. That guy had been reckless, wild, but he had always been present, always cared. The guy I saw now—this version of him—was broken, distant. And he couldn’t even bring himself to be honest with me.

The silence in my apartment was deafening. I stood up suddenly, swiping the glass off the counter, and hurled it across the room. It shattered on impact, the shards scattering across the floor. I took a deep breath, but it only made the pain worse.

I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore.

I glanced around, my eyes landing on the framed photos we’d taken together. Photos of me, him, his grandfather, Yuuji, Choso... It all felt like a lifetime ago. Everything had changed after his grandfather died. Everything had changed when he stopped trying. When he started pulling away and locking himself up in his own grief. I wanted to reach out to him, but every time I did, it felt like he was slipping further and further away.

I let out a shaky laugh, feeling empty and bitter. Look at me, falling apart over a guy who didn’t even care enough to be honest with me.

My phone buzzed. I glanced at it, and for a second, my heart skipped when I saw the name. Sukuna.

No.

I shook my head, exhaling shakily.

Don’t do it, Y/N.

But my hand reached for the phone anyway. I stared at the screen for a long moment, then pressed the ignore button. My thumb hovered over the screen, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond. What would I even say?

Instead, I threw my phone on the couch, staring out the window. The city lights were blurry in the distance, almost as blurry as my thoughts.

What now?

I sank down onto the couch, clutching my knees to my chest as I curled into myself. The pain didn’t feel like it was going away, and the silence only made it worse. I wanted to scream, wanted to run away from everything, but I couldn’t.

I felt broken. I felt like I had given everything, and all I had left were pieces of a relationship that had once felt so right.

I can’t keep doing this, I thought, staring out into the night, the tears continuing to fall. I need to let go.

But it was harder than I ever imagined.

I paced my apartment, the walls closing in on me as memories of Sukuna flooded my mind. He played with my feelings, I thought bitterly, frustration boiling within me. I wanted to be there for him, wanted to hold him close and make him feel better, but he wouldn’t let me.

Weeks had passed where he’d ignored me—no texts, no calls. I had tried everything: I called, texted, even reached out to Toji and Choso. They all told me to give him time, to let him deal with his grief in his own way. But now look at us—broken up and farther apart than I ever thought we could be.

Was I wrong to want more? The question echoed in my head as I stopped in front of the window, staring out at the city lights that flickered like my fading hope. I hated feeling like this, like I was grasping at something that was slipping through my fingers.

I could still remember the warmth of his body, the way he held me, how safe I felt in his arms. But those moments felt like a lifetime ago, replaced by the cold distance that had grown between us. I wanted to scream at him for pushing me away, for shutting me out when I wanted to help the most.

What was I supposed to do? I thought, frustration mixing with heartbreak. I felt like I was losing myself trying to hold on to him. I shouldn’t have let him back in, I chastised myself, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill over. I’d let him in again, let myself believe that things could be okay, that we could find our way back to each other.

But instead, I found myself standing here, broken and alone.

I sank down on the couch, the silence of the room pressing in on me. I wrapped my arms around my knees, feeling small and defeated. I couldn’t stop replaying our last moments together—the way he looked at me, the anger that seeped from his voice, the way he held back from truly reaching out. It was like he was there, but he wasn’t. He was so far away.

I grabbed my phone again, staring at the screen, debating whether to reach out one last time. What would it even change? I felt sick at the thought of dragging myself back into that turmoil, into that pain. I knew I had to be strong, to let go, but it felt impossible.

Maybe I just needed to give it time, too.

I tried to convince myself, but the thought felt hollow.

As I sat there, tears streaming down my face, the memories of him lingered like a ghost. The laughter we shared, the late-night talks, the promise of forever that now felt like a distant dream. I hated how much I missed him, how much I wanted him despite everything.

I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t care.

But I did. And that hurt more than anything else.

I pulled out my phone and hit play on Cleo Sol’s “Life Will Be.” The soothing melody filled the room, wrapping around me like a warm hug, soothing the chaos swirling in my mind. I started to clean up the broken glass, each piece reminding me of the shattered feelings I had just experienced with Sukuna. I wasn’t going to let him hold me back anymore, I thought, determination replacing my earlier despair. Yes, he meant the world to me, but I mattered more.

With the last shard disposed of, my stomach growled, pulling me from my thoughts. Cooking always helped me feel grounded, so I moved to the kitchen and started making dinner. I prepared a simple pasta dish, letting the warm, comforting scents of garlic and herbs fill the space around me. As I stirred the sauce, I felt a flicker of normalcy creeping back in, like I was reclaiming a part of myself that had been lost in the whirlwind of emotions.

After dinner, I settled onto the couch, turning on Netflix. I needed something mindless to distract me, so I scrolled through the options until I found a lighthearted comedy. I sank into the cushions, letting the laughter from the screen drown out the noise in my head.

Just as I was starting to feel a bit better, my phone buzzed beside me. I glanced down and saw a text from Utahime checking in. She was always so good about reaching out, especially when I needed it the most. I smiled at her message, though my heart sank a little when I saw the time. “It’s literally almost 1 AM,” I replied, half-joking.

Her response came quickly: “It’s 5 PM somewhere! I’m coming over.”

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. Only Utahime. “Fine, but just so you know, I’m not in the best mood,” I typed back, hoping she wouldn’t take it too seriously.

“Don’t care. I’ll bring snacks,” she replied, and I could practically hear her laughter through the screen.

“Okay, see you soon,” I said, already feeling a little lighter at the thought of her company.

As I waited for her arrival, I tidied up the living room, pushing aside the remnants of my earlier breakdown. I didn’t want her to see me like that; I wanted to be stronger. I wanted to show her that I was moving forward, that I was going to be okay, even without Sukuna.

When the doorbell finally rang, I opened the door to find Utahime standing there, a grin on her face and a bag of snacks in her hand. “I come bearing gifts!” she declared dramatically, stepping inside and embracing me tightly.

I laughed, the warmth of her presence washing over me. “Thank you. I needed this.”

“Of course you did. Now, tell me everything,” she said, plopping down on the couch with a bag of chips in her lap.

I took a deep breath, ready to open up about everything—the heartbreak, the anger, the confusion. I knew I couldn’t keep it bottled up forever, and if anyone would understand, it was her. As I started to talk, I felt a sense of relief wash over me, knowing that I wasn’t alone in this. Utahime was here, and maybe, just maybe, everything would start to feel a little more bearable.

Utahime settled in, giving me a knowing look as I spoke. I could feel the weight of everything I had been holding in over the past few days slowly starting to release. The words came out in a jumbled mess at first, but she didn’t interrupt—just let me spill it all, no matter how messy or incoherent. I started from the beginning, recounting the fight with Sukuna, the overwhelming emotions that followed, and how everything had ended in such a chaotic, painful way.

As I spoke, I felt a mix of sadness, anger, and frustration rise in my chest. Why did he have to be so difficult? My thoughts flared, but I kept them to myself for now. Utahime didn’t judge me, not even when I started to break down again, tears welling up as I described the last words Sukuna said to me. His anger, his indifference. The way he had pushed me away for weeks, and then the way we’d crossed that line tonight, only to make everything worse.

“I shouldn’t have let it get to this point,” I whispered, voice shaky. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I love him, but I can’t just keep doing this.”

Utahime didn’t speak immediately. She let me sit with my emotions for a moment, letting the silence linger between us. Her hand found mine, a steady presence in the storm. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm but firm.

“You can’t fix him, Y/N,” she said softly. “No matter how much you love him. You’re not the one who’s supposed to heal him or make everything okay. He has to do that himself. And you can’t keep putting your happiness on hold for someone else.”

I closed my eyes, letting her words settle in. They stung, but I knew she was right. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep letting him destroy me like this.

“Do you think I’m a fool for staying with him for this long?” I asked, not sure if I even wanted an answer.

“No. I think you’re a person who believed in love and wanted the best for him. But that doesn’t mean you should sacrifice your peace for it. Not anymore,” Utahime said, squeezing my hand. “You’re strong enough to walk away, Y/N. I’ve seen it in you. You just have to believe it yourself.”

I nodded, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “I don’t want to hate him. I don’t want to feel like this about him. But I don’t know how to fix it.”

"You can’t fix it," she reminded me gently. “But you can take care of yourself. That’s all you need to do right now. Take care of yourself.”

I let out a long breath, feeling the weight of her words sink in. The pressure that had been crushing my chest felt a little lighter.

“Thanks,” I whispered, feeling a flicker of gratitude for her being here. For not letting me wallow in my own misery.

“Anytime,” Utahime said with a soft smile, pulling out some snacks from her bag and tossing a chip in my direction. “Now, let’s just focus on tonight. You’re not alone in this, okay?”

I nodded, allowing myself to relax for the first time in days. As we sat together on the couch, munching on snacks and watching some random Netflix show I wasn’t really paying attention to, I felt something shift inside me. Maybe I wasn’t okay yet, but I would be. One step at a time. And tonight, I didn’t have to face it alone.

Sukuna’s POV

I find myself walking beside her, the air crisp but warm, the evening sun casting a soft golden glow over everything. Y/N’s hand is in mine, small and delicate, her fingers wrapped around mine so tightly that it feels like she’s anchoring me to the moment. I don’t even question it, don’t care to—I'm content to let her lead me wherever she wants to go. We’re in a park, surrounded by the vibrant lights of a carnival that’s sprawled across the grass, all flashing in the fading light of the evening. There’s a soft hum of music in the air, the sounds of laughter and excitement echoing around us as we walk past booths filled with cotton candy and trinkets. The smell of popcorn mixes with the scent of fresh grass, the air thick with nostalgia.

She pulls me forward, her face lighting up when she sees the ferris wheel in the distance.

“You’re scared of heights, aren’t you?” she teases, glancing over at me with a mischievous smile that makes my chest tighten.

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “No, I’m not scared of heights.”

“You sure? Because I remember you being all tense the last time we went on one of these,” she says, her voice playful but soft, her eyes glinting with the joy of teasing me.

I fake a scowl, but I can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips. "You're imagining things. I’m fine.”

She just laughs, the sound ringing out like a melody that wraps around me. It’s a laugh I can never forget, one that makes my heart beat faster. I feel like I’m walking on air as we approach the line for the ferris wheel, the vibrant lights of the ride reflecting off her eyes. She stands on tiptoe to look up at the giant wheel, the bright colors of the carnival lights reflecting off her face, painting it in shades of red, yellow, and blue. The glow from the lights seems to make her eyes sparkle even more than usual.

We climb into a car, the seat creaking as we sit down. The ferris wheel starts to move, slowly at first, then faster as we ascend higher into the sky. She looks over at me, her eyes searching mine, and for a brief moment, it feels like the world has quieted. It’s just the two of us, floating above the noise, the chaos of the carnival below us. I reach over and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze locking with mine.

“Still not scared?” she asks, her voice soft and steady.

I shake my head, but I can feel the tension in my chest. I’m not scared of heights, but damn, I’m scared of how she makes me feel.

“Not even a little bit,” I reply, my voice rougher than I intended.

She smiles, and the tension melts away. I can feel her hand sliding into mine, and it’s like a jolt of electricity shoots through me. The ride crests at its highest point, and the entire park stretches out below us. It’s like we’re on top of the world, with only the stars above and the lights of the carnival below. The colors blend together into something almost magical—soft pastels fading into deep purples and blues as the sun sets.

She leans in close, resting her head against my shoulder, and I can’t help the surge of warmth that floods my chest. I wrap my arm around her, pulling her a little closer. Her breath is soft against my skin, and I feel the tension in my body slowly unravel as we just sit there, taking in the moment. I know I should say something, should break the silence, but I can’t. The peace is too perfect, too fragile.

We reach the top, and the ferris wheel stops. We’re suspended there, high above the ground, surrounded by the colors and lights of the carnival, the music drifting up to us from below. Her face is aglow, and I can't look away from her. There’s nothing but this—nothing but her and me and the night sky stretching on forever.

I can feel the pull in my chest, like I’m tethered to her in a way I can’t explain, but it’s beautiful. It’s more than I could ever ask for.

“Look,” she says, pointing toward the horizon, “you can see the whole city from here. Everything feels so small, doesn’t it?”

I turn my head, following her gaze. The city lights stretch out below us, tiny and distant, like the world is just a flicker of light beneath our feet. I nod, but my eyes stay on her.

“Yeah,” I say softly, “small.”

She shifts closer, turning her face up toward mine, and before I even realize what I’m doing, I lean down, my lips meeting hers. It’s slow and soft at first, just the feeling of her lips against mine, and then deeper, a wave of warmth and tenderness sweeping over me. The world falls away until it’s just her and me, suspended in time.

Her hands find my neck, pulling me closer, and I let out a quiet groan as she deepens the kiss, the connection between us electric. I can feel her heart racing against mine as she presses closer, her breath coming in quick gasps. Everything feels right in this moment—like this is exactly where we’re supposed to be.

When the ferris wheel starts to move again, slowly descending back toward the ground, we finally pull away, breathless and laughing. She’s flushed, her cheeks bright, her eyes wide with happiness. I can’t help the stupid grin that stretches across my face as I look at her.

“That was perfect,” she says softly, her voice a little breathless.

I nod, pulling her into a tight hug, pressing my cheek against her hair, breathing her in. “Yeah, it was.”

We sit in silence as the ferris wheel takes us down, both of us lost in the moment. When the ride stops and the operator opens the door, I stand, holding my hand out to her.

“Let’s go get some cotton candy,” I say, already pulling her toward the booth.

She laughs, her fingers curling around mine once more as we walk into the carnival night, the lights twinkling above, and everything feeling just… right.

(But then the dream shifts. The feeling of her hand in mine slowly fades. The carnival fades, the laughter fades. And then I wake up.)

I wake up with a jolt, disoriented, like my mind is playing catch-up with my body. The sterile smell hits me first—sharp, cold. And then the beeping, the constant rhythmic pulse that fills the room. My head feels heavy, like it’s been stuffed with cotton, and I can’t quite grasp where I am, what’s happening. My body is sore, stiff, like I’ve been hit by a truck.

I blink against the harsh fluorescent lights overhead, trying to focus. The room is too white, too bright. I try to sit up, but the effort feels like it might break me in half. I see the IV in my arm, the monitors beeping softly around me. My heart beats erratically in my chest, thudding painfully in my ears as I try to make sense of it all.

Hospital.

Fuck.

I drag my hand over my face, the stubble rough against my skin. My mouth feels dry—no, it feels like sandpaper. The taste of smoke still lingers in my throat, but there’s something heavier, something wrong about this.

How the hell did I get here?

The events before are fuzzy—disjointed images flickering like a film reel that’s out of sync. My hands... my body... My heart, a dull ache in my chest. I can feel it now, throbbing with each beat.

But then it hits me all at once, like a punch to the gut, and I’m gripped by the crushing realization of everything I’ve lost.

Y/N.

The memories come rushing back—our argument, the fight, the last time I saw her. The cold words, the angry silence, the look in her eyes when she kicked me out. I hadn’t just lost her. I had fucking ruined everything.

The room seems to shrink around me, the walls pressing in like they’re closing off any escape. I try to push myself up again, but this time, the sharp pain in my chest stops me. My breathing becomes shallow, erratic.

“Fuck…” I rasp out, clutching the sheets in an attempt to steady myself, but it doesn’t work. My heart is racing, too fast, too erratic. Am I having a panic attack? The sensation is familiar, like the time I lost Jin, the time I lost Grandpa, all the people I’ve ever cared about, slipping through my fingers.

My vision blurs. I can feel my chest tightening, like there’s a weight sitting on it, pushing down.

And then the door opens, and I hear a voice.

“Hey, you awake?”

It’s Toji. His voice is rough, but there’s something softer in it this time. He steps inside, his face a mask of concern, though I know he’s trying to hide it. The last time I saw him, he had been... different. We had been different.

“What happened?” I croak, my voice hoarse. “How... did I get here?”

Toji doesn’t answer right away. He just stands there, watching me. His eyes flicker with something I can’t quite place. He finally exhales, running a hand through his hair.

“You passed out, man,” he says quietly. “Had a pretty bad panic attack. We tried to wake you up... but, uh...”

“Where’s Y/N?” I interrupt before I can stop myself. The question leaves my mouth like a desperate plea, a sharp breath that I can’t take back.

Toji’s face falls. The weight of the silence that follows is suffocating.

“She’s not here,” he says, his voice low. “She’s gone, Sukuna. She left. She can’t do this anymore.”

I try to breathe. I try to process the words. I should be numb by now, shouldn’t I? I’ve lost so many people. I’ve let so many people slip away, all my life. But this? This is different. This is... Y/N.

I try to sit up again, but my body doesn’t cooperate. My chest feels like it’s being crushed under a weight I can’t escape from. Toji steps forward, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Take it easy,” he mutters. “You’re not alone, alright? You fucked up, but you’ve got a chance to fix things. Just... don’t do something dumb like you usually do. Get it together.”

But I can’t even look at him. I can’t even breathe. Everything inside me feels hollow, and the ache in my chest is unbearable. The pain from my panic attack is nothing compared to this.

I can’t do this without her. I fucked up—again. I fucked everything up.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

I stare at the ceiling, the weight of everything I’ve done pressing down on me like the suffocating silence of the hospital room. The beeping of the heart monitor is the only sound, and it’s a reminder of how close I came to losing everything I was ever meant to be. I already lost her.

But what if it’s too late to fix? What if I can’t get her back?

All I want is to hold her again, to kiss her, to tell her I’m sorry. To tell her I fucking love her. But I can’t even get out of this fucking bed.

Toji watches me for a moment before he turns, walking toward the door.

“Get some rest,” he says. “We’ll figure this out. You’re not alone.”

And then he leaves me alone in the sterile room, with only the soft beeping of the monitors and my thoughts, crashing into me like a wave. The pain is unbearable. My chest feels hollow. My mind won’t stop, replaying everything I did wrong.

The worst part? I know it’s my fault. I always knew, deep down, that I was never good enough for her.

And now... I’ve lost her.

The nightmare has only just begun.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna

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sherewrytes · 7 days ago

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��ʀᴀᴄᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ Gojo x Black Fem reader

↳ Satoru Gojo x f! black reader

In Tokyo's underground music scene, Exxor is on the verge of global fame, but beneath the glitz, emotions run wild. Lead singer Satoru Gojo shines in the spotlight, while bassist Suguru Geto battles his dark past and unspoken love for Y/N, a rising fashion designer. Their shared history is fraught with tension, especially now that Y/N is falling for Gojo. As her career catapults her into the global fashion arena, old feelings resurface, threatening to unravel the band and their fragile friendships. Can they navigate the chaos of fame, or will their secrets tear them apart?

Genre: Romantic Drama, Psychological Fiction

Content warnings:

Substance Abuse, Toxic Relationships, Unrequited Love, Mental Health Issues, Slight drug use

Chapter 2: Better days

The hazy memory of university days began to take over his thoughts as his eyelids grew heavier. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed him, but his dreams weren't peaceful. They were filled with flashes of your face, the laughter the three of you shared with Nanami, and the chaotic, vibrant days that felt so far away now.

But it wasn’t just nostalgia that pulled him under—it was the ache of something long buried. The first time he’d realized he was in too deep, the first time he had truly looked at you and seen you—not just as someone to pass the time with, but someone who made his chest tighten in ways he couldn’t explain.

The flashbacks came in waves—images of university dorms, late-night walks through the streets of England, secret meetings in hallways and lecture rooms. They all tangled together in his mind, each moment a thread in a tapestry he couldn't unravel. He hadn’t expected to fall for you. He hadn't planned it, but somewhere along the way, somewhere between stolen kisses and half-hearted promises, it happened.

And when it did... he had never been able to let go.

Suguru’s POV

he wheels of my skateboard clattered against the uneven pavement, a rhythm I’d memorized over countless afternoons. The streets here always smelled like rain, even when it hadn’t poured. Or maybe that was just me romanticizing London again. Why do I do that? Romanticize things that don’t need it. Like this place. Like people. Like her.

Y/N stood a little ahead, leaning against a low brick wall, her arms crossed casually. The sun caught on the honeyed sheen of her braids—they always looked freshly done, like she walked out of a magazine shoot every damn day. You don’t notice this stuff about anyone else. Not like this.

Her skin was warm and rich, almost glowing under the sunlight. I’d caught myself watching her more than I should’ve lately, tracing the way her cheekbones curved just so, or how her full lips twisted into a smirk that could cut sharper than any insult. I knew that smirk well because it was usually aimed at me.

You’re staring again.

I kicked the board up with the edge of my sneaker, catching it mid-air. “You’re blocking the view, Y/N,” I said, my voice lazy enough to sound indifferent. She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched. That little twitch had me grinning before I could stop myself.

“Blocking the view of what, Geto? This masterpiece of London architecture?” She gestured around dramatically. The wall she leaned on was covered in graffiti, some of it halfway decent, most of it trash.

“Nope. Blocking the view of Nanami busting his ass back there.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder, and right on cue, Nanami stumbled off his board with a curse. Perfect timing. Thank you, Kento.

Y/N threw her head back and laughed, this deep, melodic sound that I always wanted to bottle up and keep for bad days. Her braids swayed with the motion, some of the golden beads at the ends catching the light. How did she make something as simple as laughing look like art?

I didn’t realize I was grinning like an idiot until her sharp gaze cut back to me. “What?” she asked, one brow arched.

Say something cool. Or sarcastic. Anything but the truth.

“Nothing.” I shrugged, letting my board drop back to the ground. “Just thinking how Nanami should stick to books instead of boards. You ever seen him try to ollie?”

She didn’t respond right away, just kept watching me like she was trying to figure something out. That smirk from earlier was back, softer now. Almost playful. “You talk a lot for someone who wipes out at least twice a session.”

“Twice is generous,” Nanami muttered, finally catching up with us.

“See? Even Kento knows.” Her grin widened as she pushed off the wall and grabbed her board. “Now, are we skating or standing around admiring each other all day?”

She started down the street before I could answer, her movements fluid and confident. God, she’s good. Too good.

“Not admiring,” I muttered under my breath, even though no one could hear me. But my chest ached with the weight of the lie. Liar.

Nanami, determined as hell, was back on his board, his posture stiff but improving with every try. It was almost painful watching him, like watching a newborn deer try to walk. Except this deer had way too much pride to let anyone help him. Honestly, it’s kind of impressive. Man doesn’t quit.

I dropped my board again, kicking it into motion. “Alright, Nanami. Let’s see that ollie one more time.”

“Shut up, Suguru,” he muttered, but he lined himself up, bent his knees, and gave it a go. This time, he didn’t wipe out. He actually landed it—clunky, sure, but he landed it.

“Whoa!” Y/N clapped her hands together, her braids swinging as she bounced in place. “Look at you, Kento! One step closer to joining the X Games.”

Nanami rolled his eyes, but I could see the hint of a smile. “Not all of us have raw, natural talent,” he said pointedly, giving her a look.

“Oh, I’m talented and humble,” she shot back, sticking her tongue out. And gorgeous. You forgot that part.

Not wanting to get shown up, I set my sights on a kickflip. I’d been trying to nail one for weeks now, but it was like the board had a vendetta against me. Today’s the day, though. Got Y/N watching. Can’t screw this up.

“Alright, watch this,” I said, hyping myself up as I lined up the board. I popped it up, flicked my foot, and— Nope. The board spun weird and smacked the ground sideways, almost taking me out with it.

Y/N doubled over laughing, her voice echoing in the park. “Suguru, you’re lucky you’ve got a pretty face because you’re not making it as a skater.”

I brushed myself off, trying to hide my grin. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. It’s all part of the process.”

Nanami snorted. “Your process looks painful.”

“It’s about the journey, not the destination,” I shot back, rubbing the back of my neck. Then, as if on cue, the thought popped into my head. You know what would make this whole thing better?

“I’m gonna grab some supplies,” I said casually, brushing imaginary dust off my jeans.

Y/N side-eyed me immediately, her lips twitching. “Just say weed, Suguru.”

I snorted, throwing her a grin. “Fine. I’m grabbing weed. Happy now?”

She laughed, this low, warm sound that made my chest feel tight. “You’re such a weirdo, man.”

“I try.” With a salute, I kicked off and rolled toward the group of regulars at the park. The guys over there always had something good, and they never minded sharing.

The familiar smell hit me before I even got close, a mix of grass and faint cologne. I made small talk, passed around a joint or two, and ended up buying my own baggie. Nothing crazy, just enough for today. They tossed me a pack of papers, too, and I shoved everything into my pocket before heading back.

By the time I rolled up to Y/N and Nanami, she was sprawled out on the grass, her board resting under her legs. The sun caught her face again, her dark skin glowing with a light sheen of sweat, and her lips parted slightly as she sipped from a water bottle. You’d think she was posing for a damn painting.

I plopped down beside her, pulling the baggie and papers out of my pocket. “Miss me?”

She raised an eyebrow, looking at the weed in my hand. “What’s that, a party favor?”

“Something like that,” I said, pulling a paper free and starting to roll. My hands moved automatically, years of practice making the task feel as easy as breathing. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?” she asked, her voice laced with amusement.

“For keeping this party going.” I finished rolling, licked the edge of the paper, and sealed the joint with a flourish. Smooth as hell. She’s gotta be impressed.

She leaned over, resting her chin on her hand as she watched me. “You’re way too proud of that little joint, Suguru.”

“And you’re way too interested,” I shot back, lighting it with a smirk.

Nanami groaned, standing up and dusting off his pants. “I’m going to skate before I get a second hand high from you two idiots.”

Y/N laughed again, and I couldn’t help but join in. She had this way of making everything feel lighter, even when I didn’t realize I’d been carrying weight. As the smoke curled into the air between us, I leaned back on my hands, feeling the tension in my chest ease just a little.

Yeah. Today’s a good day.

I took a long drag from the joint, the smoke swirling around my head as I leaned back against the pavement. Nanami, still working on getting the hang of his ollie, was shaking his head at us, a little bit of a smirk on his face. I passed the joint to Y/N, who was still lounging, her legs stretched out in front of her.

"Don't lie like that, you smoke with us all the time, bro," I said, giving Nanami a pointed look. Honestly, I don’t know why I even care. It’s just Nanami.

He rolled his eyes, his expression almost too nonchalant for my liking. "Yah, whatever," he muttered, adjusting his stance on the board.

I turned back to Y/N, who was still fiddling with the joint, trying to get it just right, and couldn't help but laugh. "No offense, love," Nanami said, shooting her a grin, "but you roll like shit."

My heart stopped, just for a second, the words sinking into my chest before I could register what he had said. Love? Did he just call her... love?

Y/N didn’t seem to mind. She just smirked back, letting out a soft laugh. "I’ll have you know, my joints get the job done, alright?" she replied, rolling her eyes.

But it wasn’t her response that had my brain short-circuiting. It was Nanami’s use of the word love—casual as ever, like it didn’t mean anything at all. My chest tightened, and for a moment, I forgot to breathe. Was I imagining things? Did Nanami just slip up?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nanami glance at me, a knowing look crossing his face, like he was aware of the thoughts racing through my head. Oh, he definitely knows. He’s been watching me like a hawk.

His lips curled into a smirk as he met my gaze. "Get a grip, Suguru," he said, his tone light but carrying that undertone that made me feel like I’d just been called out.

I swallowed hard, my brain scrambling to catch up. "I’m good," I said, forcing a casual tone, but my voice came out rougher than I intended. Was that jealousy? Nah, I’m just overthinking it. He didn’t mean it like that.

But deep down, a tiny part of me knew that Nanami wasn’t just calling her “love” out of habit. He’d never done that with anyone else. Damn.

Y/N didn’t seem to notice the silent tension hanging between us, still working on her joint as if nothing had happened. She passed it to me without a second thought, and I took it, trying to push the thoughts out of my head.

I tried to focus on her, on the way the sun made her skin glow, on the way her braids framed her face. She’s here with me, Suguru. Don’t be a damn fool.

But the word love echoed in my mind, over and over, making everything feel a little heavier than it had before.

I took another hit, the smoke filling my lungs as I watched Y/N struggle with the joint, trying to get it just right. I could tell she was frustrated, and for a moment, it was almost cute how she focused on it like it was the most important thing in the world. She’s got her own style, always trying to make it perfect. I kinda like that about her.

But Nanami, ever the perfectionist, couldn’t let it slide. He reached over, snatched the joint from her hand, and expertly fixed it before handing it back to her. Dammit, Nanami. Always showing off.

Y/N smiled, the glow of satisfaction in her eyes as she lit it up, taking a slow drag. Then, she shot me a quick smile that made my chest tighten, and I couldn't help but return it.

But then, without another word, she grabbed her board and skated off, leaving me and Nanami to exchange glances. No one tells me anything. She just leaves?

Kento, always the observant one, didn’t waste any time calling me out. He smirked, taking a long drag from the joint before exhaling slowly. "First, could you be any more obvious?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me, as if the answer wasn’t written all over my face.

I exhaled, blowing out the smoke in a lazy ring. This fucking guy. "You’re imagining things," I muttered, trying to deflect it, but Kento didn’t drop it. He leaned back, watching me with that knowing, almost amused expression.

"You wanna ask, or should I just answer for you?" He smirked, his voice low, almost taunting. "Better yet, let me save you the trouble... I’m not interested in Y/N like that."

For a second, the words didn't register. What? What the hell does that mean?

I glanced at Nanami, who was too busy watching Kento’s every move to notice my confusion. His expression wasn’t as readable as usual—he was somewhere between intrigued and defensive. I stayed quiet, the weight of his words lingering like a bad taste in my mouth. I didn’t want to react too fast, but damn if it didn’t twist something inside me.

Kento gave a half-shrug and passed me the joint, his eyes not leaving mine. Fuck, am I supposed to believe that?

I took it, fingers tight around it, but my mind was elsewhere. I wanted to believe him, but something about the way he said it didn’t sit right with me. I need to keep my cool. Don’t let this shit get to you.

As I passed the joint back to Nanami, I couldn’t help but feel a little… unsettled. Am I really that obvious? And if I am... what does it even matter?

Kento’s voice cut through the haze, sharp as ever. "You gonna do something or keep staring at her like a lovesick weirdo?" His smirk was there, playful and biting, but it hit a little too close to home.

I let out a sigh, the weight of his words sinking in. Fuck, why does it feel like everything is a joke to him?

I didn’t want to bare my heart out like that, not here, not now. There was too much I hadn’t figured out yet, too much that felt... complicated. So instead, I said nothing, just took another hit off the joint, letting the smoke cloud my mind for a moment longer. I didn’t want to face it. I didn’t want to deal with it.

But Nanami wasn’t as subtle. He shot a glance at me, his eyes narrowing as if reading something I hadn’t said out loud. "I can see this becoming a problem for the foreseeable future," he said, his voice flat, almost like a warning.

I turned my head slowly to meet his gaze, and for a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. Nanami’s not one to speak unless he means it. Is he serious?

It wasn’t like he was wrong, though. I’d been skirting around the issue with Y/N, with how I felt about her, but every time I got close to figuring it out, I backed away. She’s not mine to claim, not like that. And yet… here I am, acting like she is.

Kento took a drag from the joint, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on me. "You’re making this harder on yourself," he said, almost in a tone of amusement, but there was a hint of something else there, something like concern. Is he... trying to help me? Or is he just fucking with me?

I leaned back against the edge of the skate ramp, the cool air biting at my skin, trying to focus. The only thing I could hear now was the thrum of my own thoughts and Nanami’s heavy silence next to me.

I shouldn’t have let this get to me. Y/N’s just a friend, right? Why am I even overthinking this?

But as I glanced toward the park, where Y/N was skating with that effortless grace, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Nanami might be right. This was gonna be a problem. But I’ll deal with it... eventually.

I lay in bed now, phone still in my hand, and I can’t help but chuckle at how true Kento’s words were back then. “I can see this becoming a problem for the foreseeable future.” Hell, he was right, wasn't he? I’d been trying to deny it for so long, pushing the thoughts of Y/N away when I knew damn well what was happening. But the truth is, I’m just as much of a lovesick idiot now as I was back then.

I glance at my phone again, scrolling through old photos from that day at the park. Y/N laughing, her braids flying behind her as she skated past, the sunlight catching her skin in the most beautiful way. I let out a sigh, smiling to myself despite everything. Why does this have to be so complicated? Why does she have to be so... her?

I remember how she made me feel back then, so damn confused but so alive. She was just being herself—fun, carefree, bold—but I couldn’t stop myself from wanting more. And that’s the problem, isn’t it, Suguru? You never knew how to just keep it casual with her.

The screen lights up with a notification from her—just a message, nothing big. My thumb hovers over it, but I hesitate. Should I even open it? Is it a bad idea to keep this... whatever this is... going?

I chuckle again, bitter this time. Like I’ve ever been good at making decisions.

I think back to that day, Nanami’s words echoing in my mind. “Are you gonna do something, or keep staring at her like a lovesick weirdo?” How many times have I been caught in that exact situation since then?

Another message from her pings, and this time, I tap the screen without thinking.

"Hey, Suguru... you good?"

I stare at the message for a long moment, letting the words sink in. Damn it, I should be better at this. She deserves someone who knows what they want, not someone who’s stuck in their own damn head all the time.

I roll over onto my back, the weight of everything pressing on me. This thing between us? It’s a mess. But hell, maybe I wouldn’t want it any other way.

The sudden buzz of my phone makes me jump, and I glance at the screen to see Gojo’s name lighting up. I let out a frustrated breath before answering, knowing exactly what kind of conversation this is going to be.

"Suguru! Man, I need your help," Gojo’s voice practically bursts through the phone. I can hear the excitement in his tone, but it doesn’t ease the knot in my stomach. "Tell me everything you know about Y/N. Favorite food, places she likes, what’s her favorite color? Anything! I want this date to be perfect."

I exhale slowly, holding the phone to my ear, trying to calm myself. This is what I signed up for, right? You knew this would happen sooner or later.

I feel this weird pang in my chest as I respond, trying to keep my voice steady. "She’s got a thing for spicy food. Her favorite is Jamaican jerk chicken, but she also loves Italian food. As for colors, she’s all about deep earthy tones—forest greens, rich browns, and golds."

I pause, biting my lip. God, why does it hurt to say that? Why does it feel like I’m giving him the most intimate parts of her?

Gojo doesn’t notice my silence, though. He’s too busy scribbling notes or whatever he does when he’s excited. "Hell yeah, man, that’s perfect. I gotta get everything right. Can’t mess this up."

I take a deep breath, my heart heavy. "Why are you asking me all this? She just texted you, didn’t she? Agreed to go on a date with you?"

He laughs, but it’s more nervous than anything. "Yeah, she did. But I wanna make sure I’m doing this right. I’m not exactly the ‘romantic’ type, you know?" His voice drops a bit as he adds, "I just wanna make her feel special."

I want to be happy for him. He’s my best friend, after all. I should be excited that he’s finally stepping up, that maybe something real is happening between him and Y/N. But the truth is, there’s a part of me that’s... not happy at all.

I push the feeling down, trying to keep the edge out of my voice. "You’re gonna do fine. You’re Gojo Satoru, man. There’s no way she won’t be into it."

He doesn’t hear the hesitation in my voice, thankfully, and continues rambling about plans for the date. But in the back of my mind, I’m still wrestling with the emotions swirling inside me. I want Y/N to be happy, to be with someone who deserves her, but... is that really him?

I swallow hard and force myself to focus. "Is that all? You got everything you need?"

"Yeah, yeah, I think that’s enough for now. You’re the best, Suguru." He pauses, sounding a little more serious. "I know this is weird, man, but I really appreciate you helping me out."

I want to laugh it off, but instead, I just say, "Don’t mention it."

I hang up without another word, my thoughts racing. I want to be supportive of Gojo. I really do. He’s my best friend. But damn it, the thought of him going on a date with her? It stings more than I thought it would.

I stare at the ceiling for a while, my mind a mess of conflicting feelings. Why does it feel like I’m losing something? She was never mine to begin with.

I grab my phone again and look at her last message, wondering if I can just push all this down and be the friend she needs me to be. I’ll figure this out... I have to. For her.

I lean back against the pillows, the weight of my phone in my hand making my chest tighten. I glance at the screen again, seeing her name pop up in my messages, but I don’t open it right away. She used to be mine. In a way.

The memory hits me—those late nights when it was just the two of us, no commitments, no expectations. Just... whatever we wanted to be. The way her laughter would fill up the room, the warmth of her touch, and the way her body would fit perfectly against mine, like it was always meant to be that way.

But I ended it. I called it off. Ten months ago now. I was the one who pulled away, who cut the cord, even though I knew it wasn’t what I wanted. Not really. I wasn’t ready for it. I couldn’t handle it, not then.

I’d never told her the real reason—how much it hurt to see her with other people, even if it was just casual. How it felt like I was barely holding myself together when she’d smile at me like nothing was wrong. How much I wished I could just tell her the truth—that I was falling for her, and I was terrified of how much it was consuming me.

So, I just stopped. Stopped texting as much, stopped showing up uninvited, and slowly pulled myself out of her life the way I always knew I would.

But then, there’s the tattoo. Her name, right under my heart. A constant reminder that I’ll never be able to forget her, no matter how much time passes. It was a stupid decision. A rash thing I did without thinking, but it’s there now. Forever. It’s a part of me.

I rub the tattoo absentmindedly, wondering if she even remembers it. How could she forget? She’s the one who suggested we get them, after all. Matching tattoos, like we were a pair. I want to laugh, but it comes out hollow.

And now Gojo... I just have to let him have her, don’t I?

I close my eyes, trying to suppress the feeling in my chest. She deserves to be happy. She deserves to be with someone who isn’t as messed up as I am.

The sound of Gojo’s voice echoing in my head doesn't help. "Tell me everything, Suguru. I want to make this perfect." I can't help but feel like I’m just giving him all the pieces of something that should’ve been mine.

But maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do now. Maybe I’m supposed to help him, to push through this, even if it kills me.

I let out a long sigh and stare at the ceiling again, letting the silence of the room swallow me whole. It’s a strange feeling, knowing something is slipping through your fingers and having no choice but to let it go.

But damn, it still hurts.

I hear the front door creak open, then the sound of it closing, followed by soft footsteps down the hall. I don’t need to look up to know who it is. Kento.

Sure enough, the door to my room swings open, and there he is, standing in the doorway, looking at me like he’s already figured everything out. His sharp gaze catches me, and without missing a beat, he says, “Next time... remove your spare key from where you keep it.”

I blink at him, not even bothering to hide my surprise. “You’re just gonna walk in like that?”

He doesn’t answer. He just stares at me for a second before the tension breaks with a casual exhale. “How long ago was it?” He asks, his tone cool, but the question feels loaded. I know exactly what he’s asking, and I don’t want to answer, but I do anyway.

“Ten months,” I reply, my voice flat, though it’s hard to hide the bitterness that’s crept into my chest. Ten months since I pulled away from her. Since I made the decision to stop everything before it got even worse.

Kento doesn’t say anything for a moment. He just gives me this look, like he’s trying to piece something together. “Okay,” he says, dragging out the word. “Now, how long has it really been, Suguru? Truthfully.”

I can’t stop myself from groaning, dropping my head back against the pillow in frustration. “You’re making her sound terrible, Ken,” I mutter, closing my eyes.

He crosses his arms over his chest, his expression unreadable. “I’m not making her sound anything. I’m asking you, because I sure as hell know how you are when it comes to her.” His voice is low, but the underlying challenge in it is clear.

I feel my chest tighten. He’s not wrong, and that’s what pisses me off the most. He’s right. I’m still running. Every time she texts or calls, there’s a part of me that wants to drop everything and go to her, to be there the way I used to. But I can't. Not now, not after everything I’ve already put her through.

“Does it matter?” I ask, my voice suddenly quieter than I want it to be. “I told you, I’m done. It’s been ten months.”

Kento doesn’t respond right away. He just stares at me, like he’s trying to read through all the shit I’ve buried. “Yeah, well... I’m not so sure you are.” He lets out a sharp exhale, then stands up straight, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Anyway, Shoko’s downstairs. Get your shit together, man. You’re better than this.”

I don’t say anything as he walks out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. What’s worse—running back to her when I know it’ll just make things worse, or letting her go for good, even though every part of me is screaming not to?

I pick up my phone, looking at her name again, but I don’t answer. I can’t. Not yet.

I get off the bed, rubbing my eyes, trying to shake off the weight of Kento’s words. The familiar thrum of frustration pulses through me. But as I move toward the door, I catch Kento's gaze. His eyes narrow, scanning my chest, and I freeze.

“You still haven’t gotten that covered up.” He says it like a statement, but there’s an edge of disbelief in his voice, like he can’t fathom why I’d still keep it.

I glance down at the tattoo, her name right under my heart. Her name. It's like a constant reminder, a mark I can never really erase. No matter how much I try to distance myself, that damn tattoo will always be there.

“It’s been almost eight years, Suguru,” Kento continues, his voice softer now, almost tired. “How long are you gonna keep doing this to yourself?”

I don’t answer him immediately. How can I? He’s right. It’s been a long time. Eight years of highs and lows, moments I can never forget. But the tattoo? That’s a whole other story.

I keep walking, but Kento isn’t done. He steps forward, crossing his arms. “Satoeru just met her tonight, and she’s already more serious with him than she ever was with you. You see that, right?” His voice has this frustrating edge, like he's trying to break through the walls I’ve built around myself.

I feel my stomach churn, my jaw tightening. Yeah, I saw it. I saw the way she looked at him. The way they talked, the way she smiled at him. It was like everything we used to have was... gone.

He sighs, shaking his head. “Y/N is our friend. She’s not terrible, Suguru. But when this shit blows up... the way you’re acting now? It’s going to hurt her. You’ve gotta get a grip, man.”

I swallow, the knot in my throat tightens, but I don’t say anything back. Kento’s right. He’s always been the more logical one, the one who can see things I can’t. But this... this is different. She’s different. And I can’t just turn my feelings off.

Kento lets out another exhale, softer this time. “We have practice tomorrow. Don’t bring this shit into the band, alright?”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Instead, I walk past him, grabbing my hoodie off the back of the chair. He watches me, but I don’t make eye contact. I can feel the weight of his gaze, but I know he’s right. I just don’t know how to fix any of it.

How long can I keep running from this?

But for now, I push it all back down, stuffing it somewhere deep inside where I don’t have to think about it. Tomorrow’s another day. Another day closer to pretending this doesn’t hurt.

I head downstairs, trying to shake off the tension in my chest, but the moment I step into the kitchen, I hear Shoko’s voice from the fridge.

"Damn, you eat good over here," she says, pulling open the door and eyeing the contents. "I might need to come over more often."

I roll my eyes and reach for a bottle of water, trying to ignore her. I don’t feel like entertaining her today, not after everything. But then she hits me with it, the thing I’ve been trying to avoid.

"So, are you gonna spill me the tea on you and Y/N, or am I gonna have to drill Kento for it?"

I freeze mid-sip, the water almost spilling out of my mouth. Shoko knows?

I set the bottle down, trying to act nonchalant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Shoko raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “First, you’re friends with Y/N—the designer. A thing only you and Kento seem to know. Blondie over there told me you three went to university together in England too, so there’s that." She pauses, walking over to lean against the counter, her arms crossed. "And then the way you were acting when Satoru was all over her? Yeah, I want the tea now."

My heart skips a beat, my jaw tightening. She really caught that? How could she not? The way I’ve been acting... it’s so obvious, even to someone like Shoko.

I turn toward her, my hands resting on the counter, trying to keep my cool. “What do you want me to say, Shoko? Y/N’s been a part of my life for a long time. We used to... be close.” I almost choke on the words, feeling the weight of them. "But things changed. She... she's doing her thing now, and I'm just... trying to figure it out."

Shoko doesn't miss a beat, her eyes narrowing as she studies me. “You don’t have to play it off, Suguru. I can see it. I know you’re still into her, even if you’re trying to act like you’re not. But you’ve gotta realize that it’s not just about you anymore. Satoru’s in the picture now, and if you keep acting like this, you’re gonna push her away for good.”

I look away, running a hand through my hair. I don’t need this right now.

Shoko’s right, though. I can feel it. The way my chest tightens every time I see Satoru getting close to her, the way I can’t stop thinking about everything that’s happened between us. But it’s not just about me anymore.

“I’m not trying to mess things up, okay? I just—” I stop myself, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know what to do.”

She smirks, clearly not buying it. “Well, you’ve got to figure it out fast. Otherwise, you’re gonna find yourself on the outside looking in while Satoru moves in on your girl.”

I grimace, the idea of that hitting too close to home. "I’m not... I’m not going to do anything stupid, okay? Just... leave it alone for now."

Shoko raises her hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you." She turns back to the fridge and grabs some leftovers. “I’ll be over more often, though. Gotta see if I can snatch some of your good food when you’re not around. "I try to shake off the tension, but I know it’s not going to be that easy. It never is.

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