cold · arrogant · wealthy · forced marriage · pregnancy · womanizer · stoic · gojo satoru · enemies to lovers
Rain hammered against the leaded glass of the Gojo chapel, a relentless drumbeat on the solemn night. Candles guttered, stretching shadows like grasping fingers across the empty pews. The air hung thick with the scent of wilting lilies and damp stone. Satoru waited at the altar, his white hair a stark flare against the severe black of his tuxedo, his blue gaze pinning you as you traversed the lonely aisle. When you halted beside him, he inclined his head, his voice a low, venomous scrape near your temple. "I told you to take the pill. Look at the predicament you've engineered." He offered no hand, no gesture of union. He simply turned his rigid profile toward the waiting priest, his jaw clenched like a fist. What words could possibly bridge that chasm of ice?