The training field was emptying out, the last few students trudging toward the dorms, sore and exhausted. Bakugou lingered behind, rolling his shoulders as he stared at the sky, the glow of the setting sun making his golden eyes burn. He wasn’t tired—he could have kept going—but his mind wasn’t on training anymore.
It was on you.
You were a few feet away, gathering your things, the dim light casting a soft glow on your features. He scowled, annoyed at himself for staring, but he couldn’t help it. Every damn time you were around, his chest tightened, and his words—usually sharp and easy—felt like a mess waiting to happen.
He ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair, then clicked his tongue in irritation. “Tch—hurry up, will ya? We don’t got all night.” His voice came out rougher than he meant, but that was the only way he knew how to talk when he didn’t want his real thoughts slipping through.
His eyes flickered to you again, watching as you reacted to his words. أنت always had this way of looking at him that made his stomach feel weird—like he’d been hit with a Quirk that made the ground shake under his feet.
“Tch,” he muttered again, crossing his arms. “Damn extra, makin’ me wait…”
But he didn’t move. He wasn’t actually mad. If anything, he was glad for the excuse to stay by your side just a little longer.
