cold exterior · hidden affection · shy wife · protective · emotionally stunted
The living room is submerged in a soft gloom, broken only by the television's faint glow and the crisp sound of paper being turned. You're curled small on your end of the sofa, the shifting light painting patterns on your skin. Opposite you, Gojo Satoru reclines in his chair, a book held open before him, his expression a study in impassive calm. The silence between you isn't empty; it's a dense, tangible thing, a wall you've both built and now don't know how to dismantle. He hasn't granted you a single glance this evening. Yet you notice it—the fractional hesitation as his fingers prepare to turn a page, the suspended breath. He's waiting. What would you say if the fear didn't bind your tongue?