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wilderness-of-thoughts · 25 days

Text

Before:

"kill me..." Gojo was now moaning in his pink pajamas on the fluffy pillow you had prepared for him on the couch. Good thing most of the doll clothes fit him.

"With great pleasure. So, hemlock, arsenic, or maybe we should go classic and I'll slit your throat?" You asked, searching the cupboard for something that would serve as a blanket.

"Yhhhhh y/n! This day is the worst! I'm little and I had to bathe in a pot! And now I'm wearing half-plastic Barbie pajamas. I'm suffering here! Hey! Look how bad I feel!" he had been complaining for some time now. You looked at him, lying on your biggest, favorite pillow, fresh, clean, maybe not yet full but you'll fix that in the morning. Drama Queen is not enough. Gojo is the Emperor of Dramas.

"Yes, yes, you have it the worst. Right. My poor little Satoru Gojo. Be glad that I am the only one to witness your despair." saying this you put a piece of cloth on him so that he could cover himself with something at night.

Your eyes were closing by themselves, so with the last of your strength you started to walk towards your bedroom. After a short "good night" - to which you received no answer - you went to sleep, tapping your face against your beloved teddy bear. Maybe it was childish, but you lived alone and you didn't have to explain your strangeness to anyone.

Gojo couldn't sleep at that time. Insomnia was one of the silent curses that even the Chosen One suffered from. He knew there was no point in complaining since no one was listening to him, he wasn't able to go to the temple himself. Well, he was able to, but he doubted he would find anything new there. So he had to wait for you. Condemned to the functioning of your body. He even thought you weren't taking it seriously, but he knew that it's not true.

And it's not like he didn't appreciate it. But no one ever taught him to thank you for anything. Especially since part of your job was to serve him.... I mean, help him. It's like thanking a store clerk for being so kind as to stand behind the cash register. That was his reasoning. Why should he thank you for doing what is your duty?

Insomnia.

Campaigning in the tap was hellish torture. The rustle of curtains moved by a slight draft aroused in him the desire to kill. At his apartament he had a blindfold and earplugs and lavender oils, and at a critical moment even sleeping pills. Sleep for the Strongest is a luxury.

You were already snoring.

Another incentive to go on a killing spree.

You snored.

Insomnia.

Drip drip.

You snored.

Drip drip.

You snored.

Drip drip.

FUCK!

Not even half an hour of this torture had passed and Satoru had enough. He was tossing and turning on his pillow, cursing the universe under his breath for existing. After another few hours, which in reality were minutes, he stood up with a bang and sighed loudly through his nose. He had enough.

He didn't know what to do, but he knew he had enough.

You were woken from your sleep by a quiet murmur, then a bang, and then another murmur. You frowned, slowly lifting your eyelids. You were still sleepy.

"mmmyh-oru? What are you doing?" You asked, barely conscious as you saw the small figure of your superior standing on your bed. Only his eyes stared at you with intensity.

"Nothing. I can't sleep." He replied dryly, like a robot. You yawned and smiled slightly. Sighing heavily, you leaned out to grab a small speaker from the desk.

"I listen to this when I can't sleep" you said turning on speaker. You put the speaker above your head and fell face down on the pillow already returning to the arms of Morpheus. Gojo watched in surprise and waited until someone's low, soft voice, masculine, velvety and clear, came from the speaker. It wasn't an audiobook or a song. It was an asmr affirmation. The voice spoke only praise. How brave you are, how great you are at handling everything, how proud he is of you. The voice said that it knew how hard it was for you and that it admired you for still managing.

Gojo wanted to laugh. A sour laugh twisted his lips and his eyes of contempt landed on you. You're so weak that you're lulled to sleep by praise from a random guy who doesn't really know what you're going through, doesn't know you, and talks nonsense. And yet, his eyes were not deceiving. He looked at you smiling wonderfully sweetly, as a light blush appeared on your cheeks, and your facial expression calmed down. You sighed quietly in your sleep.

Gojo didn't understand. He turned off the speaker and threw it off the bed. He still couldn't sleep and the new discovery about you only made the blood in his veins sicker. Maybe he was wrong to call you? Why did You need to listen to this random anyway. Gojo's voice was much nicer. If you asked him, he would record something like this for you. A lullaby for you. And then he understood. He wouldn't do that if he found out he'd probably laugh at you for months. And Gojo sat on your bed, staring at you intensely, no trace of contempt in his gaze. He watched you with consternation. Why did he want to record something like that for you? Why did he feel sad and... Angry when he realized he wouldn't do it? Why do you even need it to sleep? Why is he thinking about this?

He pinched his cheek. He's going crazy. Still, he didn't get off your bed. He involuntarily curled up next to your pillow, he could smell your shampoo, your quiet snoring no longer annoyed him. It calmed him down. And before he knew it, he fell asleep. It turned out that his lullaby was the sound of your breathing that he focused on.

Morning came too soon, but Gojo hadn't slept this long in a long time. When he got up, you weren't in bed anymore.

"Gojo! Did you destroy my Tap!?" Oh... Fuck.

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