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I have a kid.
You nearly forgot about the little boy standing by the entrance.
With a breath held in, you turn to see that Haru's hands are clasped in front of him, his cyan orbs anxiously watching the negative interactions from the mother and father that he idolizes.
He doesn't budge from his spot because he doesn't even know what to make of the situation.
Even between you and Nanami at home, interactions bubbled with familial adoration and understanding since you two are committed to raising Haru in a loving environment.
"Hey, sweetie," you call.
Once you forcefully push the clinging Gojo away, your son immediately perks up.
"You just finished eating," you point out, smiling despite the urge to strangle the man in front of you. "Go wash your hands in the bathroom, and we'll go home, alrighty?"
Haru beams an "Okay!" before he silently walks away for the little ordeal, something that always takes him five minutes at least.
Those five minutes will be all that you need, right?
So, when Haru walks past earshot, you take advantage of this opening.
Except Gojo realizes his chance first.
Just as you are about to turn toward him, a sturdy hand wraps around your wrist, using your momentum to bring your body flush against his body.
The even more intimate contact this time brings all thoughts to a standstill.
Being so, so close to him is heavy.
Heavy and drug-like.
His warmth and cologne clouds your brain and downplays the significance of anything in your surroundings that isn't Gojo Satoru.
He pulls you tightly to his body, the muscles of his forearm tightening to secure your shorter frame against his taller one.
