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fushitoru · 1 month

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chapter 3: the manor a bridgerton!au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, heir to a dukedom mr. satoru gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ you and gojo have just uncovered your mothers' matchmaking scheme: a plan that sends you both to his extravagant countryside manor in kent, arriving a week earlier than the rest of the ton. the question remains—can you endure gojo's insufferable nature during this secluded stay? (8.3k)

prev. the aftermath | next. the game

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n krnfeknfkejrn i was so tired writing this chapter but used it to procrastinate on the reports and papers i have to write for internship/reports (wtf is quantum physics anyways). ty as always to @/sinn-clair for being the best beta reader <33333

Dear readers,

Apparently, last week, there was an altercation in Lady Itadori’s drawing room involving Lord Gojo, Miss Itadori, and a dog. The dog was the victor.

Furthermore, If one is to trust the betting books, then Lord Gojo shall be witness to wedding bells before the year is through.

As much as it pains This Author to agree with the betting books (they are written by men, and thus inherently flawed), This Author must concur in the prediction.

Duchess Gojo will soon have her daughter-in-law. But who she will be⸺ah, Gentle Reader, that is still anyone’s guess.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

Mary Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Woman⸺a work I have long heard whispers about but never fully encountered until now. Her words, as bold as they are revolutionary, have struck a chord deep within me. She speaks of the education and independence of women, of our capacity for reason and our right to be regarded as more than mere adornments to the lives of men. Her arguments are so meticulously crafted, so unwavering in their conviction, that they have compelled me to reflect on my own circumstances.

I confess, there is something intoxicating about the notion that women might be more than what society has so neatly confined us to be. Is it truly so outlandish to consider that we, too, possess minds capable of great thought and spirits yearning for freedom?

I cannot help but wonder if there will ever come a time when these two worlds might reconcile⸺the status quo and that of what the book articulates. When women might be both respected and fre

Before you could finish writing in your diary, you suddenly heard frantic footsteps down the hallway, leading closer and closer to your door. Nobara bursts into the room, and you look up at her in confusion and, partially, dread. Nobara wouldn’t be bursting into your room unless there was someone who absolutely couldn’t see what you were doing in your past time.

Before she could catch her breath, she wheezed out, “Your mother.”

You quickly hopped into action with practiced and routine movements. Lunging for the floorboard that had hollow space beneath it, you moved it so you could place the book and your diary underneath and quickly hide evidence of you reading scandalous and radical works.

Just in time, it seemed, as your mother walked into your room to see you on your bed.

She squinted her eyes in suspicion. “What were you doing?”

You averted her gaze. “Nothing, just daydreaming, Mama.”

Usually, she would prod further into the matter, but it seemed as if she was too excited for that. Clapping her hands, she exclaimed, “I have just got an exclusive invitation for you! One that could secure you a very good match.”

You gave her a quizzical look as she walked closer, sitting at the foot of your bed with an expression of barely contained glee. “We shall be visiting the Gojo estate in Kent!”

At the mention of his name, your left eye twitched, though your mother remained oblivious. “Indeed, Mama? As is every other lady in London, I presume.”

“No, no,” she replied, waving your quip away with a dismissive hand. “We are to arrive at the Gojo estate before the house party.”

Your heart sank, dread pooling in your stomach. Oh, no, no, no, no. A sudden pressure gripped your chest, and you found yourself clutching at the bodice of your dress as if to steady your racing heart. “Before the house party, Mama?” Your voice, despite your best efforts, came out higher-pitched than usual, though you tried to maintain a semblance of composure. “Whatever for?”

“To secure an advantage, of course!” she replied with a bright smile, as though the matter were the simplest thing in the world. “The Gojo family has extended a personal invitation for us to stay with them for a few days prior to the event. It is plain to see⸺he is quite taken with you. Even that dreadful Lady Whistledown has noted as much.” She smiled indulgently, reaching out to gently smooth a stray lock of your hair. “It is your natural grace and charm, my dear, that has made you the season’s diamond.”

As your mother continued to speak, the twisting in your stomach began to intensify, morphing from nausea into something sharper, something more akin to anger. You kept nodding, trying to maintain a slightly pained smile, but the thought of spending time at the Gojo manor, in such close quarters with him, became increasingly unbearable. The memories of your recent encounters⸺his biting remarks, his mocking gaze⸺were still fresh in your mind, and the idea that you were being pushed toward an engagement with him made your skin crawl. But you knew better than to express your true feelings to your mother.

“That is… unexpected,” you managed to say, choosing your words carefully. “Are you certain this is a good idea, Mama? Perhaps we might appear too eager and ward off other potential suitors, lest they mistake me as claimed by Gojo?”

“Nonsense!” she replied with a dismissive laugh. “If all goes well, you’ll be announcing your engagement at the house party itself!”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You could hardly breathe as the full weight of what she was saying sank in. An engagement. To Gojo.

You almost felt faint, but as the initial shock wore off, it was replaced by a simmering anger. How dare he? How dare Gojo make a game of this, toying with you as if your future was nothing more than a sport to him? And how could your mother not see that she was playing right into his hands?

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but the anger was bubbling up, threatening to spill over. “But, Mama, what if he does not wish to marry? What if he simply enjoys… toying with people?”

Your mother’s expression softened as she reached out to pat your hand, oblivious to the storm brewing inside you. “My dear, you are overthinking this. Men like Lord Gojo may seem playful and insouciant, but they are ultimately driven by duty. A man in his position knows the importance of finding a suitable wife, and you⸺my darling⸺are just the woman for the role. You are intelligent, accomplished, and beautiful. He would be a fool not to see that.”

Each word only fueled the fire of your anger. Duty? Suitable wife? You bit your lip, feeling the weight of her expectations press down on you like a suffocating blanket. But beneath that weight was a growing resolve, a refusal to be treated like a pawn in some grand game of power and prestige. Gojo might enjoy playing with others' lives, but you would not be his plaything.

You gave her a pained smile. “If you say so, Mama…” you replied, the anger now evident in the tightness of your voice.

“Of course, I do!” she declared, rising from the bed with a self-satisfied smile. “Now, we must begin preparations immediately. There is much to be done before we depart.”

As your mother closed the door, you stormed over to the floorboard, whipped open your diary and prepped your quill to furiously write:

Lord Gojo is a most intolerable wretch. Though his outward appearance might deceive many, there is an endless well of impurities within his character.

Indeed, God truly blesses the wrong soldiers with features such as his. However, I take pride in being one of His strongest for I possess the fortitude to resist the temptation of ending Gojo’s miserable existence myself.

Were Sukuna here, I daresay he would assist me in disposing of the body with great enthusiasm.

While the Gojo dinner table was stocked with the finest of meals⸺that deserving of a wealthy dukedom, of course⸺Satoru found himself eyeing one dish of all⸺the scones.

Observing his mother and father, who were engrossed in deep conversation, he realized he could make the move. As discreetly as he could, he stocked his plate with many of the treats. The cook, bless his soul, knew how to make scones exactly right: soft, yet hard around the edges that have Satoru drooling when he takes a bite in to get a burst of flavor. He discreetly tucked a few sweets into his pocket for tonight’s work session on some Gojo business, thinking himself subtle.

Satoru could continue writing endless love poems in his head towards his chef’s scones, But Lady Gojo, ever watchful, noticed his little scheme. She arched an eyebrow, her tone teasing as she remarked, "Satoru, darling, it astonishes me that you remain so fit with such a fondness for sweets."

Without missing a beat, Gojo flashed his usual charming smile and responded, “Perhaps it is because I am kept on my toes constantly by you, Mother.” His parents shared a laugh at this, clearly amused by his playful banter.

The Gojo dining fell into a comfortable lull once again, sounds of forks and knives scratching against porcelain plates. The silence was better, Satoru believed. Because he knew he was not going to be pleased at what his father had to say to him next, judged based on the thoughtful look he adopted while staring at Gojo.

“And how fares the season, Satoru? Have you made any progress?”

Satoru wanted to groan so bad, but instead, he straightened in his seat, the smile on his face now simply a facade. “I am confident all will proceed as expected, Father,” he replied, though his tone lacked its usual certainty.

Duke Gojo narrowed his eyes slightly, sensing something amiss. “Are you sure about that?” he probed. “You know very well, Satoru, that your inheritance of the title is contingent upon securing a wife and producing an heir. This is not a matter to be taken lightly.”

The weight of his father’s words hung in the air, pressing down on Gojo with the full force of expectation. Would it be eccentric if I decided to scream to the heavens right now?

Before Gojo could even formulate a response, his mother, ever the one to steer the conversation, interjected with a delighted exclamation. “Oh, it’s all handled, my dear! Did you not hear? The diamond of the season is arriving a week early to our manor in the countryside!”

All thoughts of screaming himself mute vanished as his mother’s words piqued his interest. Now, this was interesting. You? Spending time with him, under his roof, with no escape? The idea alone was enough to spark a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Satoru almost started cackling maniacally at the thought of pestering you until you broke that oh-so-perfect and uptight demeanor of yours, until you were reduced to exactly what you were: an unruly and highly emotional know-it-all.

One could say Satoru was very bitter about the losses he had bore for that horse race.

As a self-assured smirk started to creep up Satoru’s face, Duke Gojo blinked, surprised by the news. “A week early? That’s quite unusual,” he remarked, turning his gaze back to his son.

Satoru offered a sweet smile. “Yes, unusual indeed.” He knew his parents were well aware of the marital implications of such an arrangement, and he could feel their eyes on him, gauging his reaction.

But Duchess Gojo, satisfied with her announcement, continued with a gleeful smile. “I daresay, it’s all coming together perfectly. Even matchmakers could not have planned it better.”

Indeed, Mother! The prospect grew more delightful with each passing second, and the corners of his mouth curled into a sly grin. You were in for quite the week, and he would relish every moment of ruining your composure.

Yuji leaned in closer, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied your face. “Sister, did you perhaps neglect the chamber pot today?” he asked, his tone teasing but his gaze serious. “Your expression is quite telling.”

The carriage, though spacious, felt suffocating with the tension hanging in the air. Your mother sat by the window, her eyes sparkling with what could only be described as gleeful scheming regarding your imminent week at the Gojo manor. You, on the other hand, simmered with barely contained fury, with a pinch of nausea, your thoughts consumed with how you would confront Gojo at the ball you were all headed to. Yuji’s scrutiny only added to your irritation, his amused yet concerned face a stark contrast to your stormy mood. Across from you, Choso couldn’t suppress a snicker at Yuji’s comment, clearly enjoying the exchange.

You snapped, unable to contain your frustration any longer. “Yuji, if you do not cease your incessant prying, I shall see to it that you regret ever opening your mouth!”

Yuji flinched, visibly startled by your outburst. His confidence wavered as he stammered, “I⸺I meant no harm, sister.” He quickly extended his elbow to you, his movements almost robotic in their sudden politeness. “Please, allow me to escort you inside.”

You ignored the offer, your focus already elsewhere. The moment the carriage came to a stop, you heaved yourself off, stepping into the entrance. Grand revelry was before you; many suitors and young ladies were present, necks glittering with diamonds and hands adorned with gloves. Roving your gaze around, you saw him.

The world around you seemed to blur as your gaze locked onto Gojo, everything else fading into the background. A sleazy and handsome grin on his face, definitely talking about some useless nonsense.

Like a bull seeing red, you marched forward with determined fury, your sights set solely on him. He stood there, the picture of nonchalance, completely unaware of the storm heading his way. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your anger propelling you forward with each step. Yuji and Choso exchanged confused glances as they lingered by the entrance, unsure of what had just transpired.

As you closed the distance, Gojo finally noticed you, his usual smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. But there was no time for his usual banter; you were ready to confront him head-on, no matter the consequences.

“What have you done?” you roared, striding towards Gojo. His head turned slowly, an amused and condescending smile creeping across his face. “I know this is⸺”

“Miss Itadori,” a voice hissed, dripping with offense. You turned to see Miss Yuki glaring at you. “Lord Gojo and I were in the midst of a very private conversation.”

You blinked, realizing that in your anger, you had entirely overlooked Miss Yuki’s presence. Though inwardly rolling your eyes, you knew it was best to maintain decorum. You curtsied in apology. “My sincerest apologies, Miss Yuki. I shall leave you both to continue your conversation.”

As you stepped back, giving them respectable space, Miss Yuki side-eyed you with a sharp “hmph!” before turning back to Gojo with a flirtatious smile.

“So, my lord,” Yuki began, her tone coy, “what type of woman would be to your liking?”

Gojo scratched his chin, feigning deep thought as he prepared his response. “Well, Miss Yuki, I would imagine she must be intelligent, accomplished, and⸺” He paused dramatically, taking her hand and kissing the back of it with a slow, deliberate drawl, “⸺and beautiful.”

You suppressed a sigh. Does he never tire of that tiresome gesture? It’s grown exceedingly dull.

Yuki’s pleased grin widened. “And what level of intellect do you find satisfactory, my lord?”

“Well,” Gojo mused, “I would prefer a lady well-versed in calculations. I often find myself making errors in my ledgers late at night, and a wife who could assist would be most valuable. Moreover, I would enjoy engaging in debates on scientific matters.”

Is he seeking a wife or an accountant?

The unusual nature of his request clearly left Yuki taken aback. She blinked, her smile tightening. “Indeed, Lord Gojo, these are rather...uncommon expectations for a wife.” Yuki then hesitated, glancing around as though searching for an escape. “Well, my lord, as intriguing as this conversation has been, I fear I must take my leave. My mother has been awaiting my return, and I would not wish to keep her waiting.”

She curtsied with a strained smile, clearly eager to extricate herself from the awkward situation Gojo’s peculiar standards had created. Without waiting for a reply, she swiftly turned and made her exit, leaving you alone to confront Gojo, who now had an amused look on his face, as if he had purposefully answered that way to ward Miss Yuki off.

You pointed your finger at him, wagging it accusingly as you hissed, “Gojo, I know this was one of your ploys.”

He let out an exaggerated groan, and he dropped all flirtatious pretenses he had adopted when conversing with the other lady. “Ah, yes. Please, by all means, heap more blame upon me for things entirely beyond my control. I derive immense pleasure from being the target of your needless and misdirected fury.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

With a strained smile, he sighed. “It seems our mothers have taken it upon themselves to orchestrate this entire charade.”

Your hands flew up in exasperation. “I cannot believe this! I would sooner perish than marry you, and heaven help me if I were ever to bear your children!”

“Spare me the theatrics,” Gojo replied, shaking his head as if amused by your outburst. He inclined his head slightly, gesturing toward something in the distance. “We are being observed.”

You followed his gaze and saw, across the dance floor, both of your mothers trying—albeit poorly—to appear inconspicuous as they exchanged furtive glances and whispered behind their fans.

You huffed in frustration, turning back to Gojo. “This is absurd.”

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. “But would it be so terrible to bear my children?” he murmured, his tone teasing yet somehow serious.

Your pulse quickened at his words, but you refused to let it show. You straightened your posture, meeting his gaze with as much poise as you could muster. “I can’t think of far worse fates, my lord,” you replied, a touch of sarcasm lacing your words.

Gojo’s smile widened, clearly undeterred. His hand brushed lightly against your arm, the touch fleeting but enough to send a shiver down your spine.. You felt a slight tremor of awareness course through you, and despite your best efforts, a hint of warmth crept into your cheeks.

He leaned in even closer, his voice a low murmur. “You seem flustered, Miss Itadori,” he said, his breath warm against your skin. “I must admit, the idea of a future with you is… intriguing.”

Flustered and at a loss of witty remarks, you stammered, struggling to find your voice. “I⸺I hardly think that⸺”

Gojo’s smile widened, clearly enjoying your reaction. He gently took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. His eyes had this sultry expression to them, one that you didn’t need to ponder more than one second to know had no good intentions.

With that, he released your hand, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding and your cheeks aflame.

Gojo ⸺ 1, You ⸺ 1.

Choso crossed his arms, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Mother, why are we departing a week earlier than the rest of the ton?”

The carriage rocked gently, the luggage rattling with the motion. You slumped in your seat, weary from the long hours of travel, your thoughts drifting to the comfort of a soft, fluffy bed. Your mother, noticing the beads of sweat forming on your brow, handed you a handkerchief before turning to respond to Choso. “Well, my dear, your sister has caught the eye of Lord Gojo, and his mother has personally invited us to arrive early so that we may become better acquainted.”

Your eldest brother frowned, while Yuji stared vacantly out the carriage window, enraptured by the sheep present on the farm you were passing. “But why should we do so?” Choso pressed, his tone firm. “It is not as though Sister is lacking in suitors. Why should we entertain Lord Gojo’s interest above all others?”

Even in your heat-induced lightheadedness, your attention was drawn to Choso’s defense of you. A flicker of hope ignited in your chest; as the viscount, Choso held considerable authority over your mother, and he could potentially influence the matrimonial decisions made on your behalf.

“Lord Gojo is the most eligible bachelor of the season,” your mother insisted. “We would be foolish not to seize such an opportunity.”

Choso retorted quickly, “And Sister is the most eligible lady of the season. She is the diamond. If Lord Gojo’s eligibility rests on his title, would we not do better to pursue a match with Duke Nanami?”

You silently cheered Choso on, hoping he might sway your mother’s mind away from the ridiculous notion of a match between you and Gojo.

But your mother was not easily deterred. “I am quite set on Lord Gojo, Choso,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. “Your sister seems to have formed a rapport with him, and this is about more than just titles. We must also consider her inclinations.”

Both your mother and Choso turned their expectant gazes upon you, awaiting your response. Flustered and unwilling to directly oppose your mother, you swallowed nervously and nodded. “Whatever you think best, Mother.”

The remainder of the ride was marked by the satisfied smile on Lady Itadori’s face and the glowers⸺yet paired with concerned glances⸺from Choso.

The slowing of the carriage and its turn onto a smooth pathway roused you from the gentle lull of travel. You blinked your eyes open and glanced outside. A magnificent flower bed greeted you, a sea of blues ranging from the palest sky hues to deep indigo. But what truly stole your breath was the manor itself⸺more a castle than a mere country home. Its grandiose structure rivaled Buckingham Palace in regality, with elegant blue spires and stately beige stone walls that seemed to stretch towards the heavens.

The carriage came to a complete halt at the base of a grand staircase, where Duchess Gojo stood waiting, surrounded by footmen and maids all dressed in coordinated baby blue livery. As the carriage door was opened, you, your mother, Choso, and Yuji stepped out into the warm afternoon air.

“Lady Itadori!” Duchess Gojo descended the stairs gracefully, her arms extended in greeting. Your mother met her with an equally warm embrace.

“Your Grace,” your mother replied fondly, her face lighting up with familiarity. The duchess then turned her gaze towards you, her smile gracious and welcoming.

“And this must be our diamond,” Duchess Gojo said warmly, her eyes twinkling.

You offered her a polite smile and curtsied. “Miss Itadori, Your Grace. I am deeply honored by your hospitality.”

She waved off your formality with a flick of her hand. “The pleasure is entirely ours, my dear. We are delighted to have you with us, and I do hope that you and my son will find ample time to get better acquainted before the house party.”

You returned her smile, though unease stirred within you. “Of course, Your Grace.”

Choso and Yuji introduced themselves with the same practiced politeness, and after the formalities were concluded, the duchess clapped her hands together. “Come now, let us take tea. You must be quite fatigued from your journey. I shall have the staff see to your rooms so you may rest after.” She directed the servants to unload the luggage from the carriages and then motioned for you all to follow her into the manor. “To the drawing room!”

As you crossed the threshold into the manor, you were struck by the sheer opulence surrounding you. The high ceilings were adorned with intricate gold and blue detailing, and the walls were lined with endless portraits of the Gojo family. Your gaze was momentarily drawn to a portrait of Lord Gojo himself. The artist had rendered his eyes in a cold, oceanic blue—quite unlike the electric blue intensity they held in person. The painting failed to capture the vitality, and perhaps the insufferable smugness, that characterized his gaze.

You quickly looked away before anyone could notice your lingering stare, hurrying to catch up with your family as you reached a grand set of double doors. Footmen stood at attention as Duchess Gojo led you into a drawing room, elegantly appointed with plush furnishings and laden with trays of sweets.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable,” the duchess urged, gesturing towards the seating. She and your mother settled at a small table near the door, while you and your siblings gravitated toward the couches in the center of the room, where a tempting array of desserts awaited. As you sat down, maids swiftly arranged teacups and began pouring the tea. Yuji and Choso took seats across from you, their expressions reflecting varying degrees of interest—or lack thereof—in the proceedings.

“So, Miss Itadori,” You looked across the room to look at the duchess, who was leaning further to grab at her teacup and take a sip. “How do you find this season?”

“I find the suitors of this season very pleasing and kind, Your Grace,” you sat up fully, placing the scone you were eating down to fully face the duchess. “It has been a very extravagant season; I hope to continue my search to find a suitable match for myself.” Duchess Gojo nodded. “An admirable pursuit, of course. Is a love match what you are searching for?”

Her question hung in the air, and in that instant, you felt the weight of every gaze in the room fall upon you. The most searing of them all, though, was your mother's. You could feel it like a prickling heat against your skin, a silent reminder of the expectations that had been laid out before you long ago.

A love match. The words echoed in your mind, each syllable twisting into a knot of uncertainty. The very idea of love seemed foreign to you—elusive, abstract, something that belonged in novels rather than in the practical world of arranged marriages and alliances. Love was not what you had been taught to seek. No, your upbringing had been grounded in duty, decorum, and the quiet understanding that marriage was a contract, a union of convenience rather than passion.

But how could you say that aloud? How could you tell the duchess—tell anyone—that your dreams did not include the fiery passion of a love match, but rather the comfort of a peaceful arrangement? Your throat tightened, and the words that had once seemed so simple lodged themselves in the back of your mouth, refusing to emerge.

Your mother’s eyes bore into you, filled with unspoken expectations. You knew what she wanted to hear: that you were pursuing love, that you were open to it, that you were the ideal picture of a hopeful young lady seeking her romantic equal. But that wasn’t your truth. Your truth was more complicated, filled with desires for stability, understanding, and a life unburdened by the chaos that love so often seemed to bring.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the beat almost deafening in the sudden silence of the room. What were you supposed to say? How could you balance the delicate line between honesty and propriety?

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you swallowed hard, the dryness in your throat making it nearly impossible to find your voice. The tension swirled within you, an unrelenting force that made you wish you could simply disappear. What if they could see through you? What if, with one wrong word, they uncovered the truth of what you really wanted—a marriage that was practical, peaceful, and devoid of the complications that came with love?

But that wasn’t something you could admit. Not here. Not now.

You forced a polite smile, hoping it hid the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind.

Before the weight of the room could settle further, the heavy double doors swung open with a soft yet deliberate creak. Every head turned in unison, and the air seemed to shift as your savior, Satoru Gojo made his entrance.

His attire was impeccable—a finely tailored waistcoat of deep blue, embroidered with silver thread that caught the light just so, paired with polished boots that gleamed as if they had never touched the ground. Yet, despite the formal attire, there was an air of disarming casualness about him, a kind of effortless elegance that made the room's grandeur seem almost insignificant by comparison.

His damp hair, still tousled from what must have been a recent bath, added an edge to his otherwise polished appearance. Droplets of water shimmered at the tips of his white locks, catching the light as he ran a hand through them. The scent of his cologne, rich and intoxicating, seemed to announce his arrival to you even before he spoke.

He strolled in with an air of ease. “It seems that our guests are finally here!” He moved with an easy grace, crossing the room in a few long strides, bowing slightly to the duchess and your mother before turning his attention to you. His gaze lingered on you for just a moment longer than necessary, a playful glint in his eyes as if he could sense the internal battle you had been fighting mere seconds ago.

“Miss Itadori,” he greeted you with a smile that could have melted the iciest of hearts, “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.”

Your mother’s eyes lit up at the sight of him. “Ah, Satoru! Come, sit with us.” She motioned to the spot next to you with enthusiasm. “Why don’t you and Miss Itadori sit together?”

Choso’s sharp gaze followed him with a hint of suspicion, but he made no objection as Gojo accepted the invitation, seating himself beside you with an infuriatingly confident smile. Yuji and Choso remained on the opposite couch, observing the scene with varying degrees of curiosity and caution.

“Well then,” Gojo began, grabbing an obscene amount of scones to heap on his plate, “I was just at the

archery range earlier today. Quite the exhilarating sport. I find it sharpens the mind as much as the aim.”

Yuji, ever the admirer of feats of physical skill, leaned forward with interest. “Archery, my lord? That sounds remarkable! I must admit, I’ve always found it to be one of the noblest of pursuits.”

Gojo leaned back into the couch, resting one arm casually behind you on the backrest, his posture the very picture of relaxed confidence. He smiled at Yuji’s enthusiasm and continued, “Archery has long been a favored pastime of mine. It requires precision, patience, and an understanding of balance—qualities I find both necessary and rewarding. I've dedicated many years to perfecting my skill with the bow.”

He paused, allowing a slight, reflective smile to touch his lips. “In fact, just last month, I competed in the annual tournament at Her Majesty’s estate and managed to hit the bullseye in every round. Some of the other competitors remarked that it was almost unnatural, but I assure you, it is merely the result of countless hours spent at the range.”

Yuji’s eyes widened with admiration. “Every round? That’s incredible, Lord Gojo! Your dedication must be unparalleled.”

Gojo shrugged with mock humility, though his eyes glinted with pride. “It’s all in the discipline, really. Once you understand the rhythm of the draw and the release, it becomes second nature. Of course, the challenge is in maintaining that focus while under pressure. But I’ve found that to be the most exhilarating part—especially when the crowd is watching.”

Yuji nodded fervently, clearly enthralled. “I would love to see you in action, my lord! Perhaps you could give me a few pointers one day.”

Gojo chuckled, his gaze shifting to you for a moment before returning to Yuji. “Ah, I’m sure you’d take it quite well, Yuji. Perhaps we could all visit the range together during your stay here.”

The nonchalant arrogance in his voice, paired with the image of him lording his skill over others, irritated you. You couldn’t resist a small quip, your tone light. “Oh, indeed, Lord Gojo. Your accomplishments are so profound that I fear I might believe you are telling tales. Of course, I wonder with all this focus on archery, do you leave any time for pursuits that require a bit more… finesse?”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as they met yours, his gaze sharp with understanding. Yet, rather than take offense, he allowed a playful smirk to curl on his lips, his voice laced with teasing intent. “Ah, Miss Itadori, archery indeed requires finesse, I assure you. But perhaps you’d care to test that claim yourself? I’d be more than happy to provide a demonstration.”

As he leaned in closer, you found yourself all too aware of his presence. The scent of his cologne, a warm and intoxicating blend of vanilla and tobacco, filled the air between you, making it difficult to maintain your composure. His face hovered just near enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke.

“In fact,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone, “I’d wager that with a little practice, you might find yourself hitting the mark with more than just words.”

His proximity made your heart skip a beat, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Despite your resolve to remain composed, the effect of his closeness and the quiet intensity in his voice left you momentarily at a loss for words.

Choso, sitting across from you, gave Gojo a sharp look. Meanwhile, Yuji was practically beaming at the prospect of an archery lesson from the lord himself.

You inhaled sharply, trying to steady yourself. “Perhaps,” you replied, your voice more controlled than you expected, though there was still a slight quiver in it. “But I’ve found that words can be just as powerful, if not more so.”

Gojo smirked, his gaze lingering on your face as if savoring the moment. The challenge in his eyes was unmistakable, and you could feel the weight of it, pressing against your own resolve. But you wouldn’t allow him to see just how much he affected you—at least, not yet.

Despite the warmth in your cheeks and the flutter in your chest, you held his gaze, meeting his playful intensity with your own determined calm.

However, your mother’s voice broke through the spell. “Oh, Your Grace, might we have a tour of the manor sometime?”

Duchess Gojo, clearly delighted to show off her home, nodded eagerly. “Of course! There is a pavilion overlooking our garden where we can play pall-mall, and the library is quite extensive.” Your interest piqued at the mention of the library, and you made yourself a mental note to explore where it was.

Then she turned her gaze towards you, her expression growing more conspiratorial. “And as for Miss Itadori, Satoru has promised to give her a personal tour of the grounds tomorrow after she takes rest today.”

You stiffened at the suggestion, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Gojo lean in slightly, his mischievous grin widening as he whispered, “I’ll be sure to make it… thorough.”

You couldn’t sleep.

Restless thoughts kept you tossing and turning, denying you any hope of finding solace in slumber. The events of the day had left you drained, and after the conversation in the drawing room, you had collapsed into the plush, inviting bed. Sleep had claimed you almost instantly. But now, in the dark silence of the night, you awoke with a start, your mind refusing to quiet. No matter how you tried, you couldn’t escape the whirlwind of thoughts that stirred within you.

The prospect of the coming days loomed over you, a storm of anxiety brewing. Spending time with Gojo, of all people? Your mother’s insistent push for this potential marriage was unbearable. How could you possibly tell her that you despised the man? The mere thought of being bound to him in matrimony was a nightmare⸺marriage itself was daunting enough, but to an arrogant, loquacious, and insufferably self-assured man like him? It would be nothing short of Hell on earth.

With a frustrated sigh, you rose from bed and rubbed your face, trying to dispel the fog of sleeplessness. Perhaps a visit to the manor’s library⸺the one mentioned during tea⸺would offer some distraction. Grabbing a lantern, you slipped out of your room, treading softly down the stairs and into the main hallway. You moved with the caution of a thief; your mother would surely not approve of your nocturnal wanderings. Her voice echoed in your mind, sharp and reprimanding: “Good things never happen in the dead of night!”

As you opened the library’s grand doors, a soothing fragrance enveloped you⸺the scent of aged paper mingled with a hint of vanilla, a fragrance unique to this room. But what truly took your breath away was the sheer size of the library.

Bookshelves lined the walls, rising two stories high, creating a space that could easily have served as a grand ballroom. Cozy nooks beckoned you to sit, while further exploration revealed tables and armchairs tucked away behind towering shelves. It was a bibliophile’s paradise.

Your eyes roved over the multitude of volumes: ancient ledgers, personal family records, scholarly works on politics, astronomy, and the sciences. Though you did not often indulge in scientific pursuits, you found them fascinating whenever the opportunity arose. One book in particular caught your eye:

Observations on the Planet Venus.

Drawn to the back of the library, you found a large window offering a stunning view of the garden and pavilion, bathed in starlight. You couldn’t resist the allure of the table beside it, where you settled in and began to read.

“The planet Venus is an object that has long engaged my particular attention. A series of observations upon it, which I began in April, 1777, has been continued down to the present time…”

Time slipped away as you became engrossed in the text, the lantern’s light flickering softly as you pored over the meticulous observations and calculations. Your hands were soon stained with ink, evidence of the notes you had been feverishly jotting down on scraps of parchment you had found in a supply cabinet. A good hour or two had passed before you finally leaned back, stretching your tired muscles. You rested your head on your arms, intending to close your eyes for just a moment. Soon, you found that your sleepy brain forced you to reflect and muse upon your life, as a mind often does at three.

What a pity it was that you couldn’t bear the thought of marrying Gojo. If only he were different, you might have lived in this manor, with its perfect library, forever. You could imagine it: waking in the mornings in your fluffy bed, sharing the latest discoveries in astronomy and medicine with your handsome husband…

Truly, what a pity. Your sleep-deprived mind began to conjure an image of this imagined husband—tall, nearly Gojo’s height, with kind eyes and lips that would kiss you gently awake each morning (unlike Gojo’s snark). You envisioned banter over breakfast, late-night rendezvous in the library, and tender embraces in bed…

Before you could delve deeper into your fantasy, the sound of footsteps jolted you back to reality. The tread was deliberate, too similar to your mother’s for comfort, and panic flared within you. Your mind, already muddled with exhaustion, conjured the worst possible scenario—your mother finding you here, in the library where you had no business being at this hour.

Memories of her discovering forbidden books in your childhood flashed before your eyes, and your breath quickened in fear. Rising as quietly as you could, you pressed your hands over your mouth to stifle any sound, creeping toward a bookshelf to hide. But the footsteps drew closer, relentless in their pursuit. You felt like prey, cornered and desperate.

Getting out of your chair as quietly as you could, you squeezed your eyes shut and put both of your hands over your mouth so you didn’t start making audible gasps that would let the person know where you were immediately. Softly⸺but panickedly⸺walking towards a bookshelf, you hid as you traced the footsteps getting closer and closer to you. You tried to walk away from the sound, but it seemed like the person was listening intently for your movements. You couldn’t help but think you were like prey, cornered and desperate.

However, it was all for naught; your heart sank as you realized you had ended up in an alley of bookshelves that were up against the wall, essentially creating a dead end for you. The steps got closer and closer, and you drew yourself closer and closer to the wall. Your eyes was still shut, but you could hear the steps around the corner, coming closer and closer.

The footsteps were merely a few feet away from you, and in a moment of sheer panic, you blurted out, “I am sorry, Mother⸺”

“Excuse me,” came a voice that was decidedly not your mother’s. Your eyes flew open to find none other than Gojo, his blue eyes alight with offense. “Do I resemble your mother in any way?”

You blinked, struggling to process the sight before you. He was holding a quill, ink, and a stack of notebooks that resembled the ledgers you had seen earlier, along with a plate of scones that looked absurdly sugary.

“I—” you stammered, taking a sharp breath to compose yourself and paused, looking at Gojo⸺who was shooting you a petulant frown⸺take a big bite of his scone. “Your tread was uncannily similar.”

He paused, chewing on a scone with a sulky expression, while you averted your gaze in embarrassment.

When he finished chewing, he cleared his throat. “You must possess rather poor hearing to mistake a man of my stature for a lady.”

You shrugged, still flustered. “Perhaps you have an unusually light step.”

An awkward silence settled between you as Gojo took another loud bite of his scone. You hastened to break it. “It is quite late; I must take my leave. Good night, my lord.”

You bowed your head slightly and moved to leave, but before you could slip past him, he blocked your path, suspicion narrowing his gaze. “What business do you have in the Gojo library at this hour?”

“Nothing of import,” you squeaked.

At the not-very-innocuous tone in your voice, his eyes narrowed further. “Your tone suggests otherwise.” He leaned in, his gaze sweeping over you with exaggerated scrutiny. Noticing the ink stains on your hands, he quipped, “Were you tampering with important records?”

Your heart raced, knowing that he wouldn’t be entirely wrong to suspect you⸺what else would a lady be doing in a library at this hour? It was a no-win situation: confess to reading a book and risk your mother’s wrath, or be accused of something far more serious.

It was best to come clean. “I was merely reading a book,” you confessed. “I can show you precisely where I sat and what I was doing.”

Gojo’s expression softened, but he quickly continued his theatrical suspicion and hmmphed. “Of course. I must be certain that no mischief has been afoot.”

You led him back to the table where you had been reading. He sat across from you, depositing his supplies onto the table with a flourish and leaned back, crossing his arms. Ever the investigator, he watched as you retrieved the book. It bore no resemblance to the Gojo ledgers, which had the telltale blue cover and Gojo insignia, which consisted of six eyes.

Upon seeing this, he nodded in acknowledgment. “You are exonerated.”

At that, you sighed and clutched your chest. For a moment, you contemplated pleading with Gojo to keep your late library visit secret from your mother but you shot the idea down for two reasons. First, you would never lower yourself to plead with Gojo, and second, Gojo⸺ever the insufferable man⸺would definitely make sure to mention it to your mother and further exacerbate the issue.

As he began arranging his ink bottles and quills, preparing to work on his ledgers, you took a moment to observe him. He was dressed in casual attire, loose-fitting trousers and a white shirt with several buttons undone, revealing a hint of his chest. Slut.

It took you a moment to realize that he was settling in at your table. You frowned. “I beg your pardon, but this is my spot.”

Gojo looked up from his work, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “My dear, this is my library. Thus, it is my spot.”

You opened your mouth to retort, then closed it in frustration. He was right, after all. The entire manor was his. Your silence seemed to amuse him, as he returned to his ledgers with a smug smile.

Now, you didn’t really know what to do⸺should you go back to your room, or should you stay and continue reading the book? In your indecision, you continued to flip through the pages of the book, particularly because you wanted to finish the conclusion section before going to bed. But you soon felt his gaze upon you, the sound of his quill slowing down.

You didn’t look up. “Might I suggest you cease staring at me? It is quite improper.” “What? Why would I do so? To watch you peruse a tedious romance novel?”

“This is a book on the state of the art of astronomy.”

“Indeed? I confess, I am surprised.”

Your irritation flared and you whipped your head up to glare at Gojo. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

“I was under the impression that young ladies’ interests lie solely in matters of the heart.”

“So, in addition to gossiping, you are also prone to narrow-minded assumptions?”

Gojo scoffed. “Narrow-minded? It is a simple observation. Both men and women often indulge in fanciful notions of love.”

You scoffed. “Ah, so you hold yourself above other men. What are you, God?”

Gojo ignored your remark. “Those who read such frivolities are seldom engaged in serious thought or the appreciation of true art.”

“Romance allows one to experience love and joy. Does the prospect of happiness through art truly horrify you?” You stood, glaring at him. “Unlike you, my lord, ladies such as myself cannot frequent dubious establishments such as brothels to seek out lovers. Our reputations and futures are at stake.” Gojo began to respond, but you cut him off. “To deny women the solace of love is cruel. It is our only refuge in a world that forces us into unwanted marriages!”

When you were done ranting to Gojo, you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in. Truly, this man could bother you like no other; only your siblings have caused this much heat on your face due to anger. The only sounds in the library was your rushed breathing, from anger.

Gojo scoffed. “You truly think too much.”

You offered a sharp scoff. "And you, far too little. Even Sukuna Jr. possesses more emotional intelligence than you."

"Do not compare me to that wretched creature," Gojo retorted.

You gasped in disbelief. "How dare you speak of Kuna in such a manner!"

"Then perhaps you should keep him from fouling the air around me!" he snapped.

A sly smile crept across your lips. "He merely knows whom to guard me against."

At reference of That Night, Gojo sighs exhaustedly. “Do you find trouble with the judgments I made that night? None of that was meant for you.”

“Are you quite serious?” You were in disbelief. Does he truly feel no remorse? Frustrated, you ran a hand over your face. “Your words may not have been intended for me, but they were no less cutting. I cannot abide such arrogance, my lord.”

Gojo leaned back, crossing his arms with an air of indifference. “Arrogance or simply honesty? I merely spoke the truth as I see it.”

“Your so-called truth is nothing more than disdain wrapped in wit,” you snapped, feeling your temper rise again. “You speak as though your opinions are infallible, as if you alone have the right to pass judgment on others.”

“I only say what others are too afraid to voice,” he retorted, his tone cool. “If that makes me arrogant, then so be it. But I will not apologize for it.”

“Of course not,” you said bitterly. “An apology would require some measure of humility, and that is something you clearly lack.”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed, his voice growing more clipped. “I fail to see why my opinions should trouble you so much. Perhaps you are simply too sensitive.”

Your anger flared at his dismissive tone. “Or perhaps you are too blind to see the harm your words cause. You claim to be honest, but what you truly are is cruel.”

“Cruel?” Gojo’s voice was sharp now, his composure slipping. “For speaking the truth? For refusing to coddle those who cannot handle it?”

“For refusing to consider the feelings of others!” you countered, your voice rising in frustration. “Not everything is a game or a joke, my lord. Your words have consequences, whether you acknowledge them or not.”

A tense silence fell between you, each of you locked in a stubborn glare, neither willing to yield. Finally, you shook your head, the weight of your frustration pressing down on you. “I cannot do this,” you muttered, turning away. “You are utterly impossible.”

You began to walk away, but Gojo’s voice cut through the silence. “Running away so soon?” There was a hint of something in his tone⸺something almost like disappointment⸺but you dismissed it.

You paused, glancing back at him with a hardened expression. “There is no point in continuing this conversation. You refuse to see reason, and I refuse to waste any more of my time on you.”

Without waiting for a reply, you turned on your heel and left the library, your heart pounding with irritation and anger. As the door closed behind you, you couldn’t shake the feeling of heaviness in your chest.

prev. the aftermath | next. the game

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n gojo the type to hit ur g spot every ti---WHAT WHO SAID THAT?

anyways yes we r getting (sort of) freaky in the next chapter (gojo busts in his pants seeing reader's ankles /j)

gojo when reader thought he was her mama

also tysm for all the asks, and comments, and love you guys have shown me. super motivating that you guys are enjoying the story and propels me to write more <3

comment, reblog, and send in an ask to let me know ur thots :3 memes are also appreciated <3

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wileys-russo · 4 months

Text

before the void (fresa's version 2.0) II a.putellas

before the void one two II filling the void one two three four five six you can all say thanks to @girlgenius1111 for filling my head with this idea xx

before the void (fresa's version 2.0) II a.putellas

though you were incredibly outspoken now and for the most part a rather fearless teenager, there was once a time that the thought of public speaking made your stomach churn.

you remember where it all started, when you were just six years old.

you'd been given a task in class to write a short fictional story, and even at that young of an age your work was admirable, to the point your teacher after reading it had kept you back in class.

a very flustered eli had sought you out once she'd been informed of your whereabouts by the front office after being unable to find you during pick up.

rushing toward your classroom panic coursed through her at what might have happened for you to be held after class, memories of things your sisters had done over the years to get in trouble never leaving her mind.

though it was sheer relief and overwhelming pride that replaced it shortly after she'd joined you and been asked to read your story.

your teacher then informed that she'd like you to read it aloud at the upcoming end of year performance for the school at the end of the week, and without so much as a look in your direction your mami agreed.

now you were already set to perform, the kindergarten classes all teaming up for an adorable christmas themed group dance number. and initially you hadn't been worried about that, you were with your friends and everything in rehearsals had been kept very light and fun.

you didn't quite understand what your teacher meant when she explained before eli arrived what she wanted you to do, instead just blushing red in embarrassment with the praise about your story, immediately seeking out comfort in your mami's arms once she arrived.

it wasn't until you returned home and it was explained to you properly that you really understood what had been agreed for you to do.

you'd been told time and time again all afternoon by both your sisters and your mami how proud everyone was, your story passed around and read over and over, but the bomb about you performing eli had waited until dinner to drop.

"like all by herself, her own special moment? fres! that is so cool hermana." alba grinned as you frowned, confused by what she meant. "hey what did we say about pulling ugly faces nena." alexia teased, reaching over to smooth out your eyebrows as you pushed her hand away.

"by myself?" you questioned, frowning again and directing the question toward eli who nodded. "sí hija, you will stand up on the stage in front of everyone and read your story!" eli beamed happily but your frown only deepened.

"lots of people?" you questioned again but it was missed as your family all started to plan who they would invite, alexia already having planned on bringing jenni and now eli readying to extend the invitation to almost your whole family.

"do i have to?" you spoke up again, this time not ignored but rather shrinking a little under the three sets of eyes that turned to you, dropping your own gaze to your plate of food, pushing it around rather than eating it.

"sí. you made a commitment to your teacher fresa, but this will be exciting! like alba said, a very special moment all about you." eli smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face as you nodded.

"you're done?" alexia asked in shock as you pushed your plate away, food barely touched despite your normal seemingly endless appetite, a running joke in the family you had a worm in your stomach which ate all your food.

"no! i trained all day, i get it. you didn't do anything alba you don't even walk to school!" your sisters immediately began to argue over your leftovers as eli tried to play peacemaker before it turned physical.

in any other instance your silence might be noted as odd. you were a boisterous kid by nature, with two outspoken older sisters to compete with for attention you knew how to stand up for yourself and assert yourself despite your age.

but you were caught up in how strange you suddenly felt.

your stomach was twisted up like a knotted rope, your hands a little wet and clammy, chest felt all tight like when you got the flu and couldn't stop coughing, the back of your neck felt very itchy and strange, and suddenly your clothes didn't feel like they fit you properly as you fidgeted and tugged at them in your seat.

"hey!" you were snapped out of it by a hand tugging at your hair, glaring up at alexia who stood beside your chair.

"i'm on dishes which means you're helping me dry hermanita, or else i'll have to drown you in the sink!" your nerves disappeared as suddenly you were hanging upside down over her shoulder, giggles filling the air and your performance now pushed to the back of your mind where it belonged.

but it all surfaced once again the next day at school when instead of returning to class with your friends after dance class you had to stay back to practice reading your story.

"now see all these chairs fresa? on friday night they will be filled with people! your mami reserved a lot of tickets so your whole family must be coming to cheer you on, i am sure they are very very proud of you." your teacher smiled kindly, squatted down beside you as you stood up on stage.

there wasn't more than a hundred chairs, after all you didn't go to a huge school, most of the grades only had about thirty to forty kids. but to you it may as well have been a million chairs, and suddenly the room felt both huge and tiny at the same time.

"no." was all you managed out, that weird feeling from last night returning as you gripped your story in your hands. "no? why would they not be proud!" your teacher laughed, misunderstanding as she stood.

"now when you read fresa we have to make sure we speak loudly and clearly and-" your teacher started as you shook your head furiously. "no!" you repeated, scrunching your story up and dropping it to the ground, running off the stage.

you were held back again after that outburst, assured softly by your teacher that if you were too nervous she wouldn't make you read your story, leaving the decision up to you.

nervous, a new word and a new feeling.

but though it seemed the decision was up to you, and your teacher might have said that, alexia thought otherwise.

it was her turn to pick you up from school that day, already running late having left training to collect you before returning as she always did on wednesdays. so to have to be held up again by coming to meet your teacher she was flustered on arrival.

"fres? vamos nena you're coming to training with me." the older girl appeared in the doorway, nearly knocked off her feet with the force in which you hurtled yourself into her legs, a grunt leaving her mouth as she grabbed the doorframe and steadied herself.

"hey hey hermana what has happened? why are you upset huh?" her demeanor instantly shifted, squatting down and hugging you properly as she caught the eye of your teacher who gave an empathetic smile.

"fresa is a little nervous about reading her story on friday." the older woman explained as alexia stood, a hand on your head as your body sagged into hers with a sigh too deep for someone only six years of age, but that was missed by your sister.

"nervous? by friday she will be fine, we will help her practice at home." alexia assured confidently, your teacher frowning a little. "if she does not want to do it she-" the woman started as alexia cut her off with a wave, moving your hair out of your face.

"she will be fine, gracias. now if that is all?" alexia raised an eyebrow as your teacher stammered for a moment before nodding, taken aback by the abrupt confidence of the ninteen year old in front of her who smiled and thanked her again before guiding you away.

"what was all that about, you are nervous?" alexia asked after you were securely buckled into your seat and she was back behind the drivers wheel, catching your eye for a moment in the rear view mirror as you shrugged, not really knowing what that meant.

"standing up there, i felt weird." you struggled to answer your sister who hummed. "nerves are normal pequeña, they are healthy. it means that you care, that you are excited!" alexia smiled in an attempt to reassure you, something which did nothing to move the frown from your feature.

"i don't want to read my story." you answered firmly, crossing your arms with a huff. "well you will be reading it hermana, you made a commitment. putellas women do not go back on our commitments!" alexia reminded, catching your eye again as she stopped at a red light, almost to the training facility.

"no." "sí." "no." "sí." "no! i'm not doing it, my teacher said i didn't have to." you raised your voice right as alexia pulled into her parking spot, turning around properly now the car was shut off.

"fresa. mami has invited the family, jenni is coming, alba and i will be there, and everyone is very excited and very proud. do you want to let them down? make them sad that they do not get to hear your story?" alexia questioned raising an eyebrow, not understanding what was even making you nervous, you didn't get nervous.

"no." you mumbled, dropping your gaze and kicking your feet out, that strange feeling having been bugging you ever since rehearsal as you pulled at the collar of your shirt.

the door beside you opened, alexia unbuckling you and grabbing your school bag as you slipped out of the car. "hey, stop that." your sister knelt down, tugging your hands away from where you fidgeted and pulled at your clothes.

"do i really have to read it out in front of everybody?" you asked, hitting alexia with your best puppy dog eyes making her chuckle. "sí, but we will all be there to support you. vale?" your sister smiled in satisfaction as you nodded, taking her hand and following after her into the building.

normally you were beyond excited whenever you accompanied her to training, sprinting off to greet all the staff and warned time and time again by your sister not to run ahead where she couldn't see you.

but today there was none of that, you clung tightly to alexia and barely gave the staff a smile as everyone said their hello's and the pair of you headed for the locker room.

your sister hoped changing you out of your school clothes and into something you could run around in might perk you up but it didn't work, and as each of her teammates tried to greet you again you barely acknowledged anyone.

alexia just chalked it up to you being tired knowing majority of today you'd been in dance rehearsals, a letter of warning having been sent home earlier in the week that the end of year concert meant less actual scholastic work would be done in the days leading up to it, eli needing to sign her permission for you to engage with this.

and though your sister might not have picked up on your strange mood being a little more than that, someone did.

"hola chiqui." jenni knelt down in front of you where you sat by alexia's cubby, knees tucked to your chest. "hi." you mumbled quietly, sending her the tiniest of smiles as your sisters girlfriend frowned at the out of character behaviour.

"hey your sister told me about your story! thats very exciting." jenni tried with a big grin, poking at you as you only shrugged. "are you coming to see?" you asked, shuffling around and pulling uncomfortably at your top, wiping your hands on your knees.

"of course pequeña!" jenni beamed proudly, but that faded seeing the look on your face at her answer. "do you not want me to come?" jenni asked softly, moving to take a seat beside you.

"i don't want anyone to come." you muttered, glaring at the ground, alexia catching jenni's eye and sending a curious look which the tattooed footballer waved off, hanging back with you for a moment as the rest of the girls filed out for the afternoon session.

"vale. it is just you and me now fresa, why are you upset?" jenni tugged you to sit on her knee, tensing up for a second as you didn't hesitate to bury your face in her shoulder, gripping tightly to her jersey.

"hey hey hey, whats wrong fresita? do you want me to get alexia?" jenni asked worriedly feeling your small body start to tremble as she hugged you tightly, knowing that was always the best way to soothe you. she was even more surprised at the way your head shook firmly side to side at the mention of your sister.

"i don't want to do it!" you pulled your head away and looked up at her pleadingly, the older girl wiping the stray tears from the corner of your eye as she melted. "don't want to do what? hey fresa, in and out por favor." jenni reminded soothingly as you started to hyperventilate a little, copying her breathing as your body calmed a little.

"now, using your words pequeña. why are you upset?" jenni asked softly, lifting your chin up as your head flopped to look at the ground. "i don't want to read my story." you spoke clearer this time, though not offering any explanation even when jenni gently prompted you for one.

"everyone says i have to, but i don't want to. i can't jenni!" you started to become upset again as jenni quickly stood, holding you on her hip like when you were younger, making her way slowly out of the change rooms hoping some sun might help your mood.

"vale. how about i talk to your sister about your story, and you go sit with andre to help him like you always do. sí?" jenni placed you back down, nodding to one of the assistant defensive coaches who was waiting for you, knowing you came with alexia every wednesday and always finding little things for you to do to help pass the time.

"hey! not so fast." jenni grabbed the back of your shirt as you went to race off. "i did not get a proper hello." your sisters girlfriend pretended to be offended, softening as finally a smile returned to your face and you launched at her in a hug.

"fresa hugs are the best hugs, gracias." jenni sighed, shaking you for a moment and rewarded with a small giggle for her efforts. "ah! beso?" she tapped her cheek as you tried to run off again, amused at the way your eyes rolled and you quickly kissed her cheek.

"no eye rolling! more and more like alexia every single day." jenni groaned playfully, rolling her own eyes as you gasped. "you just did it!" you accused, pushing her shoulder.

"i am allowed to, vamos baby putellas. go help andre!" jenni pushed you back by the forehead, dodging the way your tiny arm swung at her with a huff. "i am six now jenni, i am not a baby." you warned before marching off to andre.

"yeah jenni, she is six now!" the girl turned around at the familiar voice, standing up and pushing at her girlfriend who grinned. "you are a bad influence on her amor, so much atttiude in such a small body." jenni tutted as the two of them wandered back to the team.

"don't look at me, that attitude is pure alba!" alexia laughed in defense as jenni rolled her eyes and hummed. "hey-" the tattooed forward stopped for a moment. "about the story, she really does not want to do it ale." jenni warned quietly, surprised at the way your sister seemed to brush it off.

"sí, she is a little nervous. thats normal! healthy, we will help her be ready." alexia shrugged as jenni shook her off. "no, alexia. she was really upset, i have not seen-" jenni was cut off by the blow of the whistle, alexia jogging off toward the rest of the team before her girlfriend followed after her with a sigh.

by the end of training your mood was back to normal, the strange feeling from earlier going away again as you were kept too busy to even give your story a thought.

but after dinner that night, everything changed.

you'd finished getting ready for bed changed into warm pyjamas from the dryer with your bear in hand, knowing you had another half hour until you really had to go to bed and intending to con one of your sisters into letting you control the tv until then.

but you were stumped to see that on your return to the living room it was changed dramatically.

the entire room had been rearranged, the dining room chairs moved to be stacked in rows and one right at the head of them, the couches pushed to the side.

"alexia are you really sure this is-" alba asked again with a concerned frown, jenni having messaged her about your odd behaviour since it didn't seem your eldest sister was taking it seriously.

"hermana!" alexia cheered seeing you, hurrying over as alba sighed but plastered a smile on her face. "why are the chairs here?" you asked with a frown, alexia handing you your story as suddenly the strange feeling returned.

"well since you are nervous pequeña, we are going to practice so you are not nervous!" alexia answered, grabbing under your arms and carrying you over to the chair at the front and standing you up on it. "red." you frowned as your sister took her from your grip.

"you can't have it on stage with you nena, this is supposed to be like the real thing." alexia explained as you deflated a little but nodded.

"pretend we are at your concert. i will be sat here, alba there, and jenni and mami and all the family will be sat watching you, and all your friends families too!" alexia smiled in a way that was supposed to be reassuring but it just made you feel worse.

"but hermana if-" alba started, noticing right away that you'd suddenly gone a shade more pale and seemed to be fidgeting in a way that wasn't normal, tugging at your clothes and rubbing your free hand against your leg.

"alba." alexia cut her off with a warning glare, the two having been bickering back and forth since the topic was raised, disagreeing on how to go about dealing with it, eli out for dinner with some work friends.

"now. remember what your teacher said fres, speak loud and clear so everyone can hear! because there will be lots of people all the way to the back of the hall and we want all of them to hear you." alexia waved for you to start reading as she and alba settled into their chairs, several of your toys filling the other ones which was alba's doing in her own attempt to try and calm you.

you nodded and swallowed hard, holding up your story and all but burying your face in it, mumbling along. "no no no, not like that." alexia shook her head and stood as alba sighed and dragged a hand down her face.

"when you read for people you have to look at them, so they know you are speaking to them." alexia took your story and stood beside you.

"you read a sentence, remember it, and then look up and say it. then you look at the page again, read it, remember it, look up and say it. vale?" alexia explained as you nodded slowly and she handed you your story back.

"you are overwhelming her, she's six alexia!" alba hissed quietly, dismissed with a wave as alexia sat back down. "go fresa. nice and loud!" your sister encouraged, your knees shaking slightly as your face felt hot and you shifted.

just like before the strange feeling returned as you felt your sisters eyes pierce into you, imagining what it would be like with hundreds more as you stammered through the first few words of your story.

"eyes up fresa! remember, read and look up. read and look up!" alexia coached, not meaning to come off as strict as she did but not realising she was only making you feel worse.

"speak clearly fresa!" "remember, you want everyone to hear." "no hermana, look up more!" "we will all be here watching you, supporting you." "you don't want anyone to be disappointed, no?"

her words echoed around your head until they were all you could hear and the strange feelings intensified. your stomach was twisted and churning, hands wet and clammy, chest all tight like you couldn't breathe properly, back of your neck itchy, and your clothes didn't feel like they fit you properly.

then, then came the nausea, followed by the contents of your stomach all over the floor.

"fresa!" alexia hadn't meant to shout, she really hadn't. but she was shocked at what had just happened and thinking she was mad at you you took off, dropping your story and sprinting away.

"nice alexia." alba snapped, standing up and shoving at the older girls shoulders before sprinting off after you.

with another bath and a new set of pyjamas, both of your sisters put aside their argument to promise you weren't in any trouble and tuck you into bed, alexia quite sure you'd only end up in hers later on anyway.

but the bickering resumed the moment you were asleep and your door clicked shut, eli returning home and frowning at the sound of the hushed argument, the vomit cleaned up and living room put back to how it normally was.

"hey!" your mami's voice was firm and commanding as she placed her bag down, both of your sisters falling silent and looking over guiltily, eli raising her eyebrow silently asking for an explanation.

"fresa cannot read her story." "fresa is a little nervous."

both girls glared at one another at the conflicting sentences, at eli's request taking turns to give their sides of the story about tonight.

"she was sick?" eli frowned, sat at the table now with a concerned frown. "sí. it is more than nerves mami, she is terrified!" alba stuck up for you as alexia made a dismissive noise.

"she probably ate her dinner too fast, you know how she gets. she will be fine mami! she just needs to practice." alexia spoke, shooting her younger sister a dirty look who rolled her eyes, both girls awaiting eli's verdict.

"vale, i will speak with your hermanita tomorrow."

but tomorrow, things got even worse.

your nerves now taking over entirely you'd refused to even participate in the dance you'd spent weeks learning, faking a stomach ache and being sent to the nurses office, but your teacher saw right through you.

"hola mi hija." you looked up from the bed you were sat on in the nurses office, a sick bag and a bottle of water untouched beside you, your feet hitting the floor and your body ramming into eli's legs as she sighed.

she'd already spoken with your teacher who'd called, raising concerns for your odd behavior and just like she had with alexia promising there was no pressure for you to read your story, or participate in the dance if that was too much.

eli promised to speak with you tonight about everything, and that was still her intention but she knew you'd be more comfortable having the conversation not at school.

so pulled out early you headed home, uncharacteristically silent in the back seat the entire way there, your mami not pushing you to say more than the few words it seemed you were able to.

"hija. your teacher told me you do not want to read your story, can you tell me why?" eli asked softly, having made you a snack and allowed you some time to settle down before she raised the topic again, not missing the way you immediately began to fidget.

but all she got was a shrug, and not for any malicious reason, you really weren't sure why you were feeling this way about reading the story, and so you weren't able to actually verbalize it.

"vale. well, if you do not want to fresa, you do not have to." eli promised as you looked up with wide eyes. "really?" you questioned as your mami nodded. "no. it would be good if you could try, but if you cannot, then that is okay too." eli assured as you frowned and nodded, the older woman dropping the topic for now and leaving you in front of the tv.

you seemed back to your normal self by the evening, racing around playing a game entertaining yourself as alba was locked away studying for something and alexia was yet to return home from training, dinner almost ready.

"fresa!" alexia groaned as she'd barely stepped foot inside before you were zooming through her legs, almost taking her down to the ground as alba snickered in amusement helping eli to set the table.

"it is a new game she made up, be nice." eli warned, alexia rolling her eyes as alba stood and you raced through her legs too, counting along with the points system nobody but you understood.

having showered at training your eldest sister dumped her things in her room, returning to the table right as dinner was served, all four of you chattering away as usual and you again seemed back to your normal self.

but again, everything changed after dinner.

once more alexia had told you to practice, alba had voiced her argument and eli had silenced both of them. handing you your story and curious to see if you displayed the same behaviors alba had reported the night before and alexia had dismissed.

"remember fresa. read, look up, speak. loud and clear, vale?" alexia coached, ignoring the way alba's eyes bore daggers into the side of her head, the room at least not set up like it was last night but still you were stood on a chair in front of the three of them.

just like last night and every time before, the strange feelings burst forth from where they'd been laid in hiding, biding their time and waiting for the right time to resurface.

your stomach twisted and churning, hands wet and clammy, chest all tight like you couldn't breathe properly, back of your neck itchy, and clothes didn't feel like they fit you properly, your spare hand tugging and pulling as you shifted on your feet.

"vamos fresa." alexia clicked, eli sat between both her daughters really the only barrier to alba knocking some sense into her older sister, grateful for eli nudging her eldest and subtly shaking her head.

"i can't." you shook your head after opening and closing your mouth a few times, trying to read but the words wouldn't come out, stuck in the back of your throat.

"you can." alexia argued, waving for you to. "no." you shook your head, knees trembling as alba frowned. "go fresa. read, you are fine!" alexia spoke a little more sternly, much like her coaches would to her on the pitch, misreading the situation all together.

"alexia." eli warned quietly, but it fell on deaf ears. "mami said i didn't have to, miss luisa said i didn't have to. i'm not reading it!" your own tone of voice raised, nerves bubbling over into frustration as to why your sister wouldn't listen to you.

"you are being silly fresa. read it!" alexia ordered, her own patience running thin. "no!" you yelled now, spare hand balling into a fist. "alexia-" eli began again but your sister was already up to her feet.

"you made a commitment, putellas women do not give up on commitments. you will read your story here, and you will read your story tomorrow. you are fine fresa, so read it, now!" alexia warned, and then it all bubbled over and you snapped.

"i hate you!" you screamed, ripping up the piece of paper with your story on it in half, jumping down from the chair and sprinting off to your room, throwing your door closed as hard as you should as it slammed shut.

a string of angry spanish curses filled the room as alba lunged at alexia, the two bickering quickly and aggresively, shoving one another around before eli yelled for them to stop and pushed her way in the middle.

"you are so selfish and stupid and stubborn and-" alba started, becoming too frustrated to even get her words out. "as much as you think she is alexia she is not just like you. she is normal! she gets nervous! but that, that is more than nervous-" alba growled, yelling now over eli's head who was still attempting to diffuse things.

"she is terrified and you just push and you push and you push, and you made it worse! imbécil testarudo." alba spat, wrenching her arm away and storming off after you, alexia scoffing at the dramatics with a roll of her eyes.

"sit." eli ordered sternly, the taller brunette giving her a look which quickly withered away at the one she got in return, sitting down in defeat as alba knocked at your door.

"hola hermanita, it is just me. can i come in?" alba called out softly, taking your silence as a yes as she pushed open the door. but she frowned closing it again and unable to see you anywhere, calling out your name.

finally, a noise in your wardrobe which was firmly shut.

"are you going to come out hermana?" alba asked gently, taking a seat by the wardrobe door, hearing a faint no echo out from inside. "vale, we will just talk like this then." your sister promised, nothing sounding in return.

"or i can talk, and you just knock on the door. two for yes, three for no." two knocks sounded making alba smile and tuck her knees up to her chest.

"do you want to read your story tomorrow pequeña?" three knocks sounded. "it makes you feel...bad to read your story in front of people?" two knocks. "you think you will let everyone down, make them sad, if you do not read your story?" two knocks again. "but you really don't want to read it?" three knocks one more time.

"okay, then you will not have to read it hermanita. i promise i will speak to mami, and to alexia." a slight creak sounded, the door opening just a sliver.

"can you come out? i need a fresa hug." alba cooed encouragingly, knocking on the door but not making a move to open it herself not wanting to push you.

"i can't." "why not?" "i'm stuck."

"stuck? is the door jammed?" alba frowned, reaching over and pushing it a little as it easily slid, a small hand sneaking out and slapping hers away from inside.

"promise me...no laughing!" you warned, voice muffled as alba frowned and agreed. but as the door opened properly and you emerged, a hand had to be slapped over her mouth to stop the sixteeen year old collapsing into laughter.

"oh fresita..." alba trailed off clearly amused as you sat in your wardrobe, head stuffed into one of your papi's old motorcycle helmets, arms crossed against your chest.

"ven aquí idiota." alba chuckled, offering you her hand which you took and allowed her to pull you from the wardrobe, now stood in front of her. "where did you even find this nena?" alba asked with a smile, fiddling with the clasp which was indeed stuck.

"garage. helps me think!" you huffed, stomping your foot impatiently as finally with a few little wiggles your sister pulled the clasp free, carefully tugging the helmet off and placing it down on your floor.

"there, much better." alba smiled, opening her arms as you collapsed into them, body sagging into hers and a very deep sigh exhaled into her shoulder as she rubbed your back.

"promise i don't have to read my story?" you mumbled, arms locked around her neck. "pinky promise." your sister poked you gently, holding up her hand as you locked your pinky with hers, each kissing the others hand.

you both sat in silence for a little while, your sister playing with your hair and rubbing your back feeling the tension in your body slowly dissapate.

"hey fres?" finally she spoke, your head pulled away as now you both sat cross legged on your floor facing each other. "when you have to read, does your stomach feel a little funny?" you nodded at that.

"your face gets a little hot?" nodding again. "your clothes don't feel right? a little itchy? tight?" nodding again.

"and my hands get all wet!" you piped up, alba now nodding in understanding. "guess what?" she questioned as you looked on cluelessly. "i feel like that too, when i have to take a test at school." your sister revealed honestly, pulling a face and successfully getting a smile from you.

"really?" "really."

"you know what helps me?" alba asked as you shook your head. "hand out." your sister motioned as you frowned but did as she asked, eyes widening at the small woven bracelet she slipped onto your wrist, tying it up so it sat loosely but not enough to move much up and down your arm.

"whenever i feel like that, i play with one of my bracelets, and it helps me feel better!" your sister promised, holding out her own hand where several other bracelets sat.

"so you don't have to read your story hermanita, i promise. but if you ever feel like that, you can always talk to me about it, or you can play with my bracelet and think of something happy. take your mind off whatever is making you feel icky, like reading the story." again you nodded, a proper smile on your face now as you launched at the older girl in a hug.

catching eli's eye who was hovering in the doorway alba gave a small thumbs up, the older woman nodding in understanding and leaving the two of you to it.

a knock sounded shortly after, though as alba looked up this time her eyes narrowed as alexia shifted from foot to foot in the doorway. "fresa?" she called out hopefully, your head peering around to look at her.

"can we talk please?" alexia asked softly, a hopeful look in her eyes as you stood and began to make your way over. "no." you answered firmly, pushing at her legs until she was out of the doorway, slamming it shut again as your eldest sisters eyes widened in shock.

"alexia." her name sounded as her hand was on the doorknob, ready to push it open and try again, looking over her shoulder as eli sent her a look.

"try again tomorrow hija, give her a little space."

but as friday rolled around, your attitude toward her only worsened.

of a morning alexia was always the one who helped you get ready for school. she would help you pack your bag, check you had everything, do your hair for you, help you pick what to wear and sit with you at breakfast normally coloring something in together.

but this morning, you wanted nothing to do with her.

eli packed your bag, alba did your hair and helped you get ready, you sat with alba at breakfast and anytime alexia tried to speak to you all she got was a frown and your body turned the other way, each action like a punch to the gut.

she watched on helplessly as you hugged and kissed alba goodbye, ignoring her once again before you raced out the door, eli sending her eldest a sympathetic look before following after you to the car.

alba also opted for the silent treatment with alexia before she left for school herself, not having been given any sort of apology from her sister she wasn't going to be the one to extend the olive branch given she was right.

that day at school for you was the same as the last, you refused to participate in rehearsals, sitting out to the side by yourself and watching your friends all giggle and run around.

a note in your pocket from your mami handed to your teacher earlier that morning explaining you wouldn't be able to read, your teacher promising she understood and giving you a few small tasks to try and keep you engaged throughout the day.

when you returned home that afternoon it took a little convincing but you agreed to still attend the concert, eli gently explaining it wasn't kind not to go and watch your friends which you'd agreed with, grateful that only your sisters, jenni and mami were coming, the rest of your family coming over for a barbecue on sunday instead after alexias game.

alba taking you to go and wish your friends good luck alexia purposefully kept the seat between her and jenni free, hopeful that you might choose to sit there even if it was just to be closer to jenni and not her.

but when you returned you blanked her entirely, opting to sit wedged in the same seat as alba, jenni rubbing her girlfriends back in comfort as the lights dimmed and she deflated, at a loss for how to make things up to you for once.

for alexia this was uncharted territory. she had always been your favourite, she was always the one you sought out for comfort, she was who you'd sit with anytime you could, she was who you went to when you had a problem.

but now, just trying her best in her own to help you overcome something she didn't want plaguing you for years to come, she'd gone about everything all wrong and the barcelona midfielder was miserable at the results.

after the concert things only got worse. it was late, you were tired, and you were even more clingy than normal.

normally when in these overstimulated moods you'd find yourself spending the night in alexia's bed, curled up with your sister who would trace shapes on your back until you fell asleep and braid your hair so that it would be all wavy in the morning when she took it out.

and that was the comfort you sought out, but with alba, and not with alexia.

the entire weekend in fact you avoided her like she had a disease, out of the house most of saturday at a birthday party removed any chance of alexia trying to fix things, and then not even going to her game on sunday given you'd spent the night at your abuela and abuelo's.

finally, sunday afternoon rolled around and coming off of a 7-0 win alexia was in an invigorated mood to make things better with you, your entire family gathering together meaning you were in the best mood you'd been in all week.

so much so, alba was surprised when you'd tugged at her pants, pulling her out of conversation with one of your cousins.

"i want to read my story." you announced when it was just the two of you alone in your room, alba all but dragged there the moment she'd excused herself. "really?" your sister asked in surprise, taking a seat beside you on your bed.

"sí, i have your magic bracelet to help me now. but will you help me?" you asked hopefully, a small smile coming across the older girls face as you fidgeted with her bracelet on your wrist. "of course pequeña. what do you need me to do?" alba asked gently as you jumped down from your bed.

"fix this." you held up the two halves of paper containing your story with a frown, alba hesitating for a moment as things ticked over in her head. "mm i am not very good at fixing stories fresa. but you know who is?" you shook your head, lowering the two halves with a sigh.

"alexia." alba promised, not missing the conflicted look which crossed your features. "ven aquí." the girl lifted you back up and onto your bed. "i know ale upset you. but she is very very sorry, and i know she misses you." alba continued softly as you shook your head.

"no she doesn't, she's mad at me." you sighed again, pulling at the bracelet and refusing to look up. "mad at you? why would she be mad at you hermana?" alba asked confused as to where this was coming from.

"i didn't do my commitment." you mumbled as alba exhaled, suddenly now putting the pieces together now of why you'd been avoiding your eldest sister like the plague.

"hey, fresa look at me." you did as she asked. "alexia would never ever be mad at you for that. she loves you very very much, maybe even more than me." alba added on teasingly, poking your side as you gave a little giggle and pushed away her hand.

"really?" "prometo. so why don't you go and ask her to fix your story, and then both of us can stand with you while you read it to everyone. would that help?" alba asked gently as you nodded.

"vamos!" alba motioned to the door, chuckling as you took off right away, zooming through and around the family members littering the house, avoiding every cheek pinch and hair ruffle you could.

alexia was sat with a few of your tio's discussing the match, jenni's own parents in town meant she wasn't there to indulge her pity party so she'd opted for the other thing which always made her feel better, talking about football.

but all of that came to a screaming halt as suddenly you appeared, tapping her knee and holding up the two halves of paper. "can you fix this for me please?" you asked hopefully, alexia catching alba's eye across the yard who sent her a nod.

"of course." alexia promised taking the paper off of you, standing and cautiously offering you her hand, almost melting in relief when finally you accepted, pulling her into the house.

a few pieces of tape and a ruler later and the story was whole enough for you to read again, alba quickly texting alexia the contents of your conversation so she knew the real reason you'd seemed so upset with her.

sat up on the desk in your sisters room as she'd worked you thanked her as she handed you the now mended story, alexia taking a seat in the chair by your feet.

"fresa." she'd called for your attention as your eyes scanned over your story, mumbling under your breath. "i am very proud of you." the older girl started softly as you frowned, confused. "why?"

"well, because even though it took me a little longer to see it, you expressed your feelings and your needs and you stood up for what was best for you." alexia started, absentmindedly drumming her fingers against your shoes.

"nena i am very very sorry that i did not listen to you. sometimes i think that i am always right, and that i know what is best for everyone, but you knew what was best for you. you told us that, and that makes me very very proud of you fresa." your sister promised, grunting as suddenly you swung yourself off the desk and into her lap, arms wrapping around her neck.

"i missed your hugs, fresa hugs are the best hugs." your sister mumbled affectionately, kissing the top of your head and squeezing you tightly.

"sorry i said i hate you. i promise i don't hate you, and i am proud of you!" alexia couldn't help but grin as your small hands fell to her cheeks and you frowned up at her as seriously as you could muster.

"gracias pequeña. i love you very very much!" alexia promised, her own hands falling to your cheeks and smooshing them together as you whined and pushed them away.

"more than alba?" you asked, a cheeky grin on your face as alexia shook her head with an amusement smile. "maybe. but don't you tell her that diablillo!" alexia warned, pinching your cheeks again and helping you down.

"its okay...she already knows!"

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