Old Beats | Gojo Satoru x Reader

XXII

Gojo burst into laughter when your mother recounted, for the umpteenth time, the anecdote about the hole in the ceiling, capturing the attention of the other diners. Clearly, embarrassment has never bothered Gojo.

The restaurant was sophisticated and exorbitantly expensive. Neither you nor your mother were dressed for the occasion, but since you were with Gojo, it didn't matter. You were seated at a table next to a window on the "umpteenth" floor of a skyscraper, offering spectacular views of the city. Your friend took care of ordering dishes whose names you couldn't even recognize, while he and your mother exchanged stories and mutual compliments. Both seemed fascinated with each other.

Satoru has always flattered your mother in a rather exaggerated way. In your opinion, he seeks her approval as a balm for your father's palpable disdain. On the numerous occasions that Gojo has visited your parents' house since you've known him, your father has barely spoken ten words to him, most of them being simple exclamations like "Hey," "You," or, if he was in a good mood, "kid," accompanied by a series of grunts. The longest sentence he ever uttered in Satoru's presence was during a dinner, where he blurted out, "Do you have to talk all the time?"

Satoru, indeed, did not shut up. When the lights went out and everyone was sent to their respective rooms, he snuck into your room to ponder why your father detested him so much, him being so fantastic. You didn't think your father hated him; he was just like that. You ended up arguing heatedly, moving from words to a friendly confrontation, then to a more violent one, until the incident with the hole in the ceiling happened. "You could have hit me, you idiot!" you whispered, as both of you observed the night through the perfectly round hole and small particles of cement dust fell on you. "I deflected it, dummy," he replied in a childish voice. "That's why it hit the ceiling." After that, there was no doubt that your father hated him.

Your mother, on the other hand, was delighted with him. As the meal progressed, it became clear to you that she was conducting a casting to find her future son-in-law, and Satoru had all the tickets to win. Up to that point, he had already made sure that he had no girlfriend (he had never had one), that he had a good job (the same as yours, but good), and that he would love to be a father (help).

Normally, Gojo used to go along with your mother and hint that he would someday marry you, something that always delighted your mother. But today was not the case. The boy laughed, joked, and was delighted when your mother praised him, but he kept a certain distance.

With you as well. He didn't talk much to you, avoided looking at you, and made sure he was far enough away not to accidentally touch you. It was very strange. When your mother began to hint that you were "running out of time," you got up from the table. "I'll be right back. You," you called to Gojo, who left the bread he was crumbling on his plate, "come with me."

You crossed the restaurant's lounge to reach the entrance where the bathrooms were located. You entered the women's bathroom and bolted the door when Gojo entered with you. It was a small space. You had thought it would be much larger, given the sophistication of the place. You leaned against the wall with your arms crossed, and Gojo did the same on the opposite wall.

You looked at each other cautiously.

Less than twenty-four hours ago, you were entangled in kisses in your bedroom, so the distance that now separated your bodies seemed cruel. It was a dense, heavy, and insurmountable distance. Because you had plans with Suguru tomorrow, and you were sure Gojo hadn't forgotten. That's why he clenched his jaw, that's why he avoided looking at you, that's why he had his arms crossed and had made no attempt to joke or reduce the absurd distance between you. That's why he remained silent.

"You had no right," you finally said, nodding towards the door. Your voice came out weak, and you realized you were not as sure as you thought.

"I called her days ago; I didn't know about tomorrow yet," he replied, and you saw the muscles in his neck tense up. "I didn't remember she was coming."