sonnyangeluvrrr

[sonnyangeluvrrr]

birthday candles with gojo !

"what," satoru whines, twisting his fingers into the hem of your old sweater. "is it illegal to want m'girl blowing out the birthday candles?"

you squirm in his lap to no avail, hips trapped by his arms and shoulder pinned under his chin. your boyfriend pouts up at you, big blue eyes sparkling.

"they're your candles, 'toru."

"but you're my girl," he counters, sidling up close to press a sticky kiss to your cheek. "look, the wax is melting already."

you reach back, brushing over the short, white hairs curling around his nape. "need me to do everything for you, huh?"

with a short puff, the room goes dark. little boxes of light still blink in through the slats in the blinds of satoru's apartment, but now it's mostly just you cradled in his lap, saccharine candle smoke wafting around your heads.

a quiet exchange of breaths, and—

"ahh," satoru voices next to your ear, finger pointing at his open mouth.

you oblige (as you always do), sinking a fork into cream and chiffon.

turning in his lap, you cup his jaw in one hand and shove the cake into his mouth with the other. and as a gift, you seal it with a kiss, smearing cream on your lips.

"happy?" it's a question that comes with a head tilt and a smile.

"best birthday ever," is what satoru says before diving back in.

— hbd to my glorious blue eyed king.. pls talk/interact if u enjoyed, gojo said so ᡣ𐭩

© mawaaru 2024 :: do not repost, plagiarize, translate, modify, or use any works to train ai

[sonnyangeluvrrr]

Choso Kamo is the type of husband to forget that you’re married - to say something along the lines of “-and when I finally marry you-” before gasping in the middle of his sentence and snapping his eyes down to the pretty sparkly matching wedding rings. Rubbing his thumb over your own like he couldn’t believe it - you’re married.

Choso Kamo is the type of husband you’d describe to your coworkers as the “absolute cutest” and talk about how he “wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Then lo and behold who is THAT tattooed, towering man holding out a bike helmet for you to hop on after work. That surely can’t be your husband?

Choso Kamo is the type of husband to bake you sugary cookies to win over all the coworkers he’d accidentally scared. The type to celebrate with the biggest fist bump when they love it and muse that…hm…maybe your husband actually did have a cute side.

Choso Kamo is the type of husband to always babble about growing old. To talk about how he’s “already practicing” to still hold your hand even with a cane. To kiss away your pretty wrinkles and pick out places to hang all the pictures of your grandbabies. 

Choso Kamo is the type of husband that can’t imagine not being your husband.

[sonnyangeluvrrr]

𝜗𝜚 ࣪ ׅ ⊹ reader is a parent (called mama + baby), fluff, mister sukuna could be seen as ooc but i honestly don’t care lmaooo

“why do you call my mama baby?”

your daughter swings her legs back and forth, hands tucked underneath her thighs, eyes trained on your boyfriend — sukuna ryomen — as he flips a pancake.

(you’re still asleep in your bedroom — your daughter had woken him up, a glimmer in her eyes as she kindly asked if he could make pancakes for breakfast, a little giggle in her voice as she said that his chocolate chip pancakes were the best.)

“it’s just a pet name.” he responds, flips the pancake again. “thought it was cute.” he kinda shrugs.

“oh.”

he tenderly places the pancake on the plate decorated with a unicorn — she’s been really obsessed with them lately, you had mentioned — and picks up the plate, just to gently place it in front of her.

she’s thoughtful for a moment, lost in the gooey chocolate chip pancakes in front of her.

did he fuck something up?

and then, she looks up at him. “do i have a pet name?”

his eyes widen just a little.

“mama’s baby,” she says, picks up her fork. “and you’re ‘kuna.”

there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“how about …” he acts pensive, but the pet name for your little girl is already on the tip of his tongue. “princess?”

she beams, chocolate chip pancakes forgotten. “like the princess of unicorns?”

he can’t help but notice just how much she resembles you — from her eyes to her nose to the way she gets excited.

“sure, princess.”

“what’s going on with you two?” you ask, drowsy smile gracing your lips, and kiss the top of your daughter’s head.

“‘kuna came up with a pet name for me!”

“ooh, really?” you look over at him as if he had hung the moon in the sky.

“mhm! and it’s princess.”

you smile. “it’s very fitting. our little princess.”

[sonnyangeluvrrr]

kento never understood satoru's antics. the way he'd cling to any of his friends, a literal koala. he could never wrap his head around this weird obsession with physical touch.

"you're so hypocritical nanamin," satoru joked, making kento look up from his phone.

"when have i been hypocritical?"

"when you have the most judgiest face known to man when im touchy, but you're the same!" satoru put his hands up in frustration.

"when have i ever been touchy?" kento's raised his eyebrow.

"with y/n, you're so clingy with her. it's kinda disgusting seeing you do that," satoru pretending to vomit as he ended the sentence.

"reall-"

"yeah! don't try to deny it!"

satoru's jokes usually don't affect him, but this one stuck. did he really become someone he despised? was he that clingy to you till satoru, out of all people, found a problem with it? this 'insult' was in the forefront of his mind as he entered your shared apartment.

"love, i'm home!" kento immediately took off his shoes, quickly searching for your figure.

"ken! i was just about to text you," you ran to the front door, quickly giving him a peck on his cheek. kento instinctively wrapped his arm around your waist, you swatting it away immediately. a touch

"you're dirty! i'm already clean, wash up first," you pinched your nose, pretending as if kento had smelled bad. kento quickly laughing at your antics. "let's get you cleaned up," you quickly took off his tie, putting it beside his briefcase. pushing him to your bathroom, so you could finally cuddle up with the blonde man.

kento took the fastest shower he could muster, trying to get into your arms as quickly as possible. as soon as he was done with his shower, he quickly walked to your bedroom with drenched hair and a towel in his hand.

"can you..." he nudged you with the towel, asking you to dry his hair. you simply patted the empty space beside you, kento quickly sitting.

you were on your knees on the bed, kento quickly wrapped his arms around your waist looking up at you. touch. he was content, a smile on his face as he watched you dry his hair.

"all done!" you ruffled his almost dry hair. you were about to get up to put it in the hamper, but kento's grip on you tightened.

"just put it aside...stay," and stay you did. you put the towel in your bedside table, kento's hand still touching your waist. touch

you quickly moved to get into your covers, tired out from the day you had experienced. as you finally laid down, you could feel a hand on your waist and a slight force nudging you to kento's side. you followed the force, letting it take you to kento's embrace. your head touching his chest, his arm right behind your head, his thumb making circles. touch

as you fell asleep in his arms, he was still awake...thinking. maybe he was too hypocritical, but for you, he would be the most hypocritical man in the world without any guilt.

[sonnyangeluvrrr]

˚୨୧⋆｡just one bite

The aroma of Sukuna’s food wafts over to you, rich and tempting, and you can’t help but lean a little closer, curiosity getting the best of you. He notices, of course, shooting you a quick side-eye as you inch closer, a small pout forming on your lips.

“Can I just have one bite?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

He rolls his eyes, a smirk already tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No, I’m not going to give you a bite.”

“Why not?” you ask, crossing your arms and looking at him with wide eyes, playing up your innocence.

He raises a brow, leveling you with a look that tells you he’s not buying it. “Because I know you’re not gonna like it. Then you’re going to ask me how the hell I like it, and I don’t want to listen to that right now.”

You blink at him, a little taken aback but also amused. “Oh, so now you’re a food psychic?”

He huffs, leaning back in his seat and taking a deliberately slow bite. “I’m just smarter than you give me credit for. Go ahead and prove me wrong.”

Challenge accepted.

You reach over, taking a forkful of his food before he can stop you, lifting it to your mouth confidently. But the second it hits your tongue, the taste catches you off guard. The bitterness mixes with a heat that’s almost overwhelming, and you try not to make a face, swallowing it down as casually as you can manage.

Sukuna watches you with that knowing smirk, his eyes gleaming with amusement as you struggle to mask your reaction.

“Good?” he asks, a single eyebrow raised.

“…It’s, um, interesting,” you say, trying to salvage your dignity. “Definitely… bold.”

“Interesting,” he repeats, a chuckle escaping him. “Just say you hate it.”

You bite your lip, glaring at him half-heartedly. “Fine. How do you eat this?”

He shrugs, taking another bite with ease. “I guess I just have better taste.”

“Oh, sure,” you tease, “and what is that, acquired taste for terrible food?”

A low laugh rumbles from him, and he leans in, his voice dropping to a playful, almost challenging tone. “You’re the one who wanted a bite, brat.”

You can’t help but laugh, finally giving in. “Alright, alright. You win this one.”

He smirks, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he goes back to his food. But just as you’re about to turn away, he pauses, spearing another bite on his fork and holding it out to you.

“Here,” he says, his tone softening just a bit. “Try this piece. It’s not as bad as the last one.”

Surprised, you take it, feeling a strange warmth from the small gesture. The flavor this time is milder, easier to enjoy, and you give him an approving nod.

“See?” he says, looking at you with a rare, almost hidden softness in his eyes. “Maybe you just needed the right bite.”

And with that, he goes back to his meal, a faint smile lingering on his face as you sit there, heart pounding just a little faster than before.

[sonnyangeluvrrr]

˚୨୧⋆｡locked out

Gojo should have seen it coming, you think to yourself, leaning back against the couch with a smirk. He’d been testing your patience all day, his playful teasing going a bit too far for your mood. And now here he is, standing outside, playfully rapping on the door.

“Baby” he calls, the sound muffled. “I know you’re in there! I only left my keys inside for, like, a second!”

You roll your eyes, pretending not to hear him. He taps again, more urgently this time.

“Come on, sweetheart! It’s cold out here! And you know how fragile I am.”

You try not to laugh, biting your lip to keep from responding. It's petty, sure, but something about having Gojo in this position — a little on edge, a little out of his element — feels satisfying. You don’t often get to see the overly confident Gojo Satoru anything other than entirely in control.

“Are you really ignoring me?” His voice comes again, incredulous. “You know I could break in if I wanted to!”

You finally walk over to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open just enough so that you can peer out at him. Gojo’s standing there with his usual, impish grin, looking entirely too amused for someone who’s supposedly been “locked out.”

He gives you a wounded look, leaning against the doorframe. “So you were planning on letting me freeze out here?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You shrug, crossing your arms. “Maybe.”

“Aw, don’t be mad,” he says, reaching out to lightly tap your nose before you can pull back. “I didn’t mean to annoy you. I just can’t help myself. You’re cute when you’re mad.”

You roll your eyes again, though your resolve starts to waver. “If I’m so cute, then maybe you should listen when I tell you you’re being annoying.”

He places a hand over his heart, looking theatrically offended. “Me? Annoying? Never.”

You bite back a smile, but he catches the faint curve of your lips. “Look,” he says softly, letting some of the playful glint fade from his eyes. “I’m sorry if I overdid it. Really. You know I’d hate to actually upset you.”

The sincerity catches you off guard. You take a breath, your annoyance finally fading. “Fine,” you say, stepping aside and motioning him in with a playful eye-roll. “But next time, you’re staying out there until you freeze.”

“Oh, I’ll keep that in mind.” He grins, stepping inside and letting his arm slip around your waist, pulling you close. “But if that’s the price for getting under your skin a little, maybe it’s worth it.”

You shake your head, giving him a small, amused shove. “Don’t push it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” But the mischievous twinkle in his eye tells you otherwise — and you know it’s only a matter of time before he’s up to his antics again.

[sonnyangeluvrrr]

kento would go all out for your birthday.

he’d take the day off and work on the surprises that he had been planning weeks before your birthday.

serving you breakfast in bed that has a little present next to the plate. he’s gesturing you to open it and when you did, there it was, the necklace that you’ve been eyeing on for god knows how long.

taking the necklace, he goes behind you and clasped the necklace on your neck, giving your nape a quick peck and then your cheeks.

of course, he’s not done yet. he’s a man that’s full of surprise.

throughout the whole day, he had been showering you with gifts, catching you off guard.

when the day was almost at it’s end, he was preparing his last surprise which you are unaware of.

as soon as you both came home, the living room was decorated, flower petals scattered around the floor, there were dimly lit candles, these weren’t here when you and kento left. (gojo and the first years may or may not be at fault :p)

kento stands in front of you, “happy birthday, my sweet. i hope that what i’ve brought you joy today.”

“thank you, ken, i love you so much.” giving him a kiss on the lips.

“i want you to be even happier...” he says as he pulls a box in his pocket and gets down on one knee.

“y/n l/n, will you marry me?”

an: it’s my birthday and i need him so bad.

[sonnyangeluvrrr]

thinking about your friend, kento being there to comfort you when you broke up with your now ex boyfriend.

your friend, kento who always brings you as his plus one whenever his friends are hosting a party.

your friend, kento who checks up on you everyday. asking if you’ve eaten already, and if you haven’t, expect him knocking on your door holding takeouts.

your friend, kento who punched the guy that was eyeing you very wrong.

your friend, kento who makes sure that you’re always safe whenever you two get paired in missions.

your friend, kento who calls you when he can’t sleep. who’s a better company other than you, right?

your friend, kento who invites you to a dinner, making you wear something fancy.

your friend, kento who finally confessed about how he felt towards you.

your friend, kento who starts getting worried when to atmosphere started growing heavy. did he just ruin your friendship? what will happen now? were you surprised? will you ever talk to him again—

your friend, kento whose ears perk up when you finally said something.

your friend, kento who smiles when he heard you say ‘i like you, too, kento.’

your friend, kento who takes you out on dates at least 3-4 times a week.

your friend, kento whose heart almost jumps when you finally told him that you wanted to be his girlfriend.

your boyfriend, kento who loves and cherish you so much. throughout the months that you two have been together, the way he cared for you never faltered.

your boyfriend, kento who thinks of a way on how to put a ring on your finger... because, it’s only right that he makes you his, right?

[sonnyangeluvrrr]

˚୨୧⋆｡ hidden devotion

In the quiet warmth of Suguru's apartment, tucked away from the prying eyes of anyone who might recognize them, you shift uncomfortably on the edge of his sofa. It’s not that you mind the secrecy—not entirely, anyway—but tonight something in you aches to be more than a hidden whisper in the dark.

"Suguru…" you begin, hesitating before pushing through the words. "No one knows us here. Can we please just… go out? Like a real couple, maybe? Even just this once?"

Suguru's dark eyes soften, a hint of apology flickering there. He reaches over, taking your hand in his. “You know it’s not that simple,” he says, almost in a murmur, though he’s closer to you than anyone could possibly hear. His thumb traces slow circles on your hand, grounding you both.

You bite back the small wave of disappointment, but it must still show on your face, because Suguru shifts, gently pulling you into his arms.

"It’s just—sometimes it feels like…" You swallow, carefully choosing your words. "Like it’s not real. Like maybe I’m imagining us."

He exhales softly, pulling you close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your forehead. "I don’t love you any less just because no one else can see it," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but it’s enough to send your heart racing. "You mean more to me than… than anything. It’s real to me. More real than anything else." He gently kisses your forehead and then your lips.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling a warmth flood through you at his words. Suguru has a way of anchoring you, even when doubt and worry creep in, gently guiding you back to him without saying much at all.

"And… if you want to go out, then we’ll go," he continues, surprising you with a rare, quiet grin. "But we’d better stay out of the spotlight. I’d rather not share you with the rest of the world."

A smile tugs at your lips as he pulls you to your feet, leading you to the door. "I think I can manage that."

You walk out hand in hand, knowing it may only be for tonight, but right now, with Suguru at your side, it feels like all you need.

[sonnyangeluvrrr]

˚୨୧⋆｡first impressions

You’ve been avoiding his texts for three days.

Each message that pops up from him is like a reminder—of how you tripped on your own feet, how you’d misread his joke, and how the waiter had looked at you, slightly baffled, when you’d accidentally ordered two desserts. Not to mention the spilled wine incident. It plays in your head on repeat, every mortifying moment, until you’re sure he's already written you off as a clumsy mess.

You see his name flash on your phone again—another text—and your stomach tightens.

Nanami: “Are we still on for coffee this week? ☕️”

Nanami: “Let me know if you’re around! No pressure.”

Nanami: “Hey, is everything okay?”

You sigh, feeling that familiar warmth flood through you at his gentleness, at how he's somehow still reaching out. But it’s just a matter of time before he realizes. Before he thinks better of it. It’s easier this way, you tell yourself. To just… fade into the background, to let the embarrassment settle without having to explain.

But you hadn’t expected him to show up.

The knock on your door is light but insistent, and your heart lurches. You hesitate, fingers brushing against the handle, already knowing who it is. You open the door, and there Nanami stands, a faint smile playing on his lips as he offers a small wave.

"Hey," he says softly, searching your face with a steady gaze. "I, uh… was worried about you."

You shift on your feet, glancing down, not quite meeting his eyes. "Sorry, I… I've just been busy," you say, voice barely above a whisper, knowing how thin the excuse sounds.

He gives you a look, that quiet, knowing expression he's so good at, and something in it makes your defenses falter. "Really? Busy? Because it kind of seems like you’re avoiding me."

You swallow, rubbing at the back of your neck. "It’s not that. I mean, it’s just…" The words slip out before you can stop them. "I feel like I embarrassed myself on our date. And I didn’t want you to… think about it like that."

His brow furrows, confusion, and something else—something like affection—softening his gaze. "Embarrassed?" he asks, tilting his head. "I thought we had a good time."

You let out a half-laugh, shaking your head, unsure if he's humoring you or if he really means it. "Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure I ordered two desserts by accident. And I definitely spilled wine on you. Twice."

He smiles, and it’s the kind that makes you feel seen like he's not just hearing your words but understanding the heart of them. "So you ordered two desserts and spilled some wine. That’s part of what made it fun," he says, leaning against the doorframe as though settling in for a real talk. "You were being yourself. And I liked that."

His words hang between you, each one softening the tightness that’s been sitting heavy in your chest. Still, the doubt lingers.

"But I just… felt like I ruined it," you murmur, finally meeting his eyes. "Like I didn’t come off the way I wanted to."

He reaches out, his hand brushing your arm in a way that’s gentle, grounding. "Hey," he says, his voice gentle but firm. "I wanted to see you. Not some perfect version. The way you laughed at yourself, or how you were excited about that dessert, or even how you kept trying to wipe the wine off my shirt when I said it was fine… that was all you."

You feel your face heat up, but this time it’s something warmer, something less tangled with anxiety.

"So… you’re not, I don’t know, regretting it or anything?"

Nanami laughs, and it’s soft but real like he's surprised you’d even ask. "Regret it? Not a chance. Actually, I was hoping we could do it again," he says, his tone playful, but there’s that sincerity again, woven into every word.

For the first time in days, you feel yourself relax, letting a smile slip through. "Well, maybe next time I won’t spill anything on you."

He chuckles, eyes brightening. "Hey, I make no promises. Maybe I’ll order three desserts this time. Just to keep things interesting."

You laugh, feeling the last of your embarrassment start to dissolve. And when he reaches out to take your hand, his fingers slipping through yours, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

[sonnyangeluvrrr]

sonny's info

ೋღ  she/ her, 18 , in uni, currently only writing for jujutsu kaisen . this blog makes exclusively sfw content - please keep this in mind when interacting!

Links rules | masterlist | about me | my tags | wip | rambles

ೋღ requests and asks are welcomed but please be respectful and polite. also, note that responses are not guaranteed but I will try to fulfill them when I can.

©sonnyangeluvrrr 2024. do not copy, modify, or translate my work. you do not have permission to share my work on any platform. all rights reserved. 

[sonnyangeluvrrr]

˚୨୧⋆｡blushing curse

You sit across from Sukuna, watching as he picks through a book, eyes sharp and focused. The afternoon sun filters through his chamber, casting a warm glow across his skin. You can’t help but smile a little at the sight—something about the way he furrows his brows in concentration makes you want to laugh. You’re not sure when you started noticing all his little expressions, but it’s become something of a habit.

“What are you staring at?” he asks without looking up, sensing your gaze.

You blink, startled, caught in the act. “Oh, nothing,” you say quickly, fiddling with a loose thread on your sleeve. “Just… thinking.”

He raises a brow, closing the book with a deliberate snap. “You’re a terrible liar,” he mutters, his eyes briefly scanning your face. “Can’t keep your thoughts to yourself, can you?”

“Maybe not when you look so…” The words tumble out before you can stop them, and you immediately snap your mouth shut, cheeks warming. His eyes narrow.

“So… what?” he asks, his voice dropping into a challenging tone.

Your face heats up even more. “Nothing. Never mind,” you say, looking away.

But Sukuna is undeterred, his gaze sharper than ever. “What were you going to say?” he presses, leaning forward, his expression unreadable. “Speak plainly.”

You bite your lip, regretting every decision that’s led you to this moment. “I just… you looked kind of… handsome. That’s all.”

There’s a beat of silence, one that stretches out so long you’re almost tempted to look up at him. But then he scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Handsome, huh? You’re not serious,” he mutters, though there’s an unmistakable redness creeping up the back of his neck.

You catch it, though, and your own flustered feeling fades just a bit. “Oh, I’m definitely serious,” you say, smirking a little at his discomfort. “What, does the King of Curses get embarrassed?”

He clicks his tongue, his jaw tightening. “I don’t get embarrassed. You’re just… ridiculous.” His voice is defensive, and he doesn’t quite meet your eyes.

“Uh-huh.” You lean in slightly, grinning. “So you weren’t just blushing?”

His gaze snaps to yours, fierce. “I did no such thing,” he says, voice low. But the faint redness is still there, a hint of vulnerability under his usual calm exterior.

You laugh softly, reaching over before you can think twice about it. Sukuna stiffens as you press a gentle kiss to his cheek, pulling back to find him staring at you, wide-eyed and completely still. For once, he looks genuinely flustered, his usual confidence momentarily shattered.

“What was that for?” he finally manages, his voice softer, almost uncertain.

“Just… you’re cute when you’re flustered,” you say, shrugging with a little smile. You watch his face, taking in the brief flash of surprise, followed by his familiar scowl.

“Enough with that nonsense,” he snaps, but his tone lacks its usual bite. “I’m not… cute.”

“Sure, sure,” you say, grinning, a sense of victory blooming in your chest as he turns away, muttering to himself under his breath. And for the first time, you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

[sonnyangeluvrrr]

˚୨୧⋆｡after the silence

The first message was an accident, a stray text meant for someone else—your number hadn’t changed in the years since, and apparently, neither had theirs.

Hey, you still around?

A pause. Then, another text.

Sorry, that was meant for someone else.

It’s been years since you’ve heard from them, yet your fingers hover over the screen, the silence stretching like a warm ache. Against your better judgment, you start typing.

So am I. Still around, I mean.

The response comes back faster than you expected.

I can see that. Been a while, huh?

You hesitate, feeling the weight of those years between you both, but also the strange comfort of familiarity.

Yeah, like five years? Longer? More like six. You keeping count?

You can almost hear the smirk in those words, the easy charm that once drew you in. Even through the screen, their words carry the same warmth as they did back then. You wonder if they still talk the same way, if their laugh still sounds like the last laugh you heard as they closed the door behind them.

Maybe I am. Got a problem with that?

Another pause, then a slight shift.

Depends. Are we still counting the things we regret, or did we leave that in the past?

The question lingers on your screen like a heartbeat, and suddenly, you're sitting on that worn leather couch in their apartment, a million memories flowing back. The late-night talks, the fights, the coffee-stained mornings. You know what they mean without saying it, the quiet, unspoken pain of things left unresolved.

I think it depends on what you regret.

Another pause. You feel the weight of that silence, the years it carries, before they finally reply.

I regret leaving. Sometimes.

The confession is small, but it cracks open something you thought had healed over. You read it again, the simplicity of it almost making you laugh.

Sometimes? Yeah. I mean, maybe it wasn’t all bad, right?

You think back to all the good—there was plenty of it. But the good is woven with the bad, the near-misses, the moments that slipped through your fingers like sand. You’re not sure what to say, so you try for honesty.

No, it wasn’t all bad.

They’re quick to respond this time.

I remember the bookstore dates. The ones where you’d drag me through every aisle, and I’d pretend I wasn’t interested.

You smile, thumb brushing over the screen, lost in memories.

You were terrible at pretending. You’d always end up with an armful of books. Only because you made it sound so exciting.

There’s a warmth between the words, a comfort in this sudden reconnection, a way of talking about the past that feels lighter than it once did.

Maybe we should catch up. Properly this time.

You consider it, the invitation hanging there, daring you to say yes. A mix of excitement and nerves bubbles up; you can’t tell if this is something you’ve been waiting for or something you should ignore. But the part of you that remembers what it was like to be around them, to laugh and talk as if no time had passed, wins out.

Yeah. Maybe we should.

Another pause. The reply feels like an old promise finding new life.

Okay. Coffee, maybe? Same place?

The mention of that old café, where everything started and maybe where it ended, is enough to make your heart skip. It was where you first realized things between you were more than casual, that this person might be woven into your life, however briefly or permanently. You take a breath, letting a grin tug at your lips, and type.

Same place. And don’t pretend you’re not excited about the bookstore after. Wouldn’t dream of it.

And with that, you’re set. There’s a sense of closure and maybe a new beginning. The next few days stretch ahead like something familiar yet unknown, but you realize the old feelings still have a place in the present, mingling with the memories you both carry.