-A couple of weeks later-
Gojo was starting to fear FOR the people he talked to, everybody that he has talked to so far has gone missing. He can’t figure out why, but everywhere where the last person was seen. There was a picture of him… Every single disappearance, he’d find a picture of him in the last spot where he talked to his friends.
Was someone stalking him…?
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Geto. He was the one watching Gojo, everywhere Gojo went, he was in the alleyway, watching. He didn’t like how people looked at Gojo. He didn’t like how people talked to Gojo. He didn’t like how Gojo would give people gifts. It made him feel envious… Oh, but he loved this feeling. The feeling of murdering and jealousy building up into him.
At night, when Gojo is walking around, Geto’s purple eyes watch from the alleyway. Smirking as quietly following behind, he loved his best friend. Yet, he didn’t want him to know why he left. Geto will not hesitate to kill anyone who interacts with Gojo a little too much closer than the normal human would, Gojo was his.
Geto knows he isn’t in the right mind set, but he doesn’t care. No therapist will understand him, he doesn’t mind. To him they are just filthy monkeys, but Gojo… Gojo with his life. Something that would never change through time. To Geto, if Gojo was the sun, he’d be the fire. If Gojo was a plant, Geto would be the soil. Meaning no matter where he’s at, he’s right there. Without Gojo’s acknowledgement.
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P.S: sorry this one was a little short, I did this at school and forgot to publish it. I have so many tests, thoðŸ˜
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