Satoru and you were what people had considered a perfect couple— they were. Euphoric, tranquil, a relationship of pure love that any human would desperately yearn to experience even just once in their lives; but they experienced it every single day. Two halves of a whole, a perfect pair made for one another. But sometimes, fate always has some plot twists stored and decides to use its non-consequential privilege every once in a while.

Ever since life pulled its tricks, their relationship started going rocky— constant bickers and fights that seemed to last even though it was short; more and more decreases of affectionate activity between the both of them. But at least they didn't commit infidelity against each other.. right?..

Their relationship was like a car daring to tip off an edge of a cliff with just one wrong move from the people inside— but one of them made their move. but even after that, both stiff suffered the same consequences as they both fell with the car in the most inopportune time of their lives. They both broke up, moving their separate ways. Despite falling the same way together, how their brain chemistry changed after that crash were complete opposites like overflowing, hot lava touching a vast, deep ocean.

Gojo started to despise love, vowing to never love and open to any woman like he did all those years ago when he was with you as you started questioning the truth of love like a mad scientist. The chemistry that intertwined both of you was incomparable despite it only lasting for a few years of your teenage years— running across the coast of the beach, chuckling as you both chased eachother against the fluid waves whilst the sun set with the most beautiful, ethereal, golden hue.

Each time Gojo heard your name, it was like a bitter aftertaste from the kisses you gave him, which never really dissipated from his lips. He wouldn't share another kiss with another woman— not when your saliva still lingered inside of his mouth.

Both had a purity that was separated like two sides of a familiar yet foreign coin. It laid cold on the floor, a stark contrast to its warmth when it was once held inside of a hand.