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Lani POV:

It was after dark by the the time Shouto and I returned to my place.

I'll be the first one to say I lost track of time. Once I figured out his niche, so to say, I got to work, snapping picture after picture of him.

It was addicting in a way. Taking his picture, checking them afterwards to make sure they looked okay, focusing on every attractive feature—and, even noticing new things I never did before.

Like, how he always rubs the top of his left hand with his right whenever something makes him nervous. Or, how he looks at the sky when he's lost in thoughts. How his eyes always find mine when he's confused or seeking extra guidance.

It wasn't the act of taking pictures itself, but rather, him that made me lose track of time.

He was photogenic. Attractive. Seeing him in such satisfying images scratched the right part of my brain. The part that couldn't stop looking. The part that craved more.

There wasn't any reason to invite him back to my apartment. Not only have we spent the last two weeks straight together, but I also had more than enough material to head home solo and start putting his social media page together.

But, he never ate dinner—and I didn't either. There was a little fried chicken place down the street from my apartment. I just....you know......figured he deserved a little something nice for a job well done.

Sure, we could have eaten dinner at the chicken place. Public spaces are always less intimate and more friendly. But, it was probably closing soon, and Shouto didn't seem to mind my place when I suggested it.

And, yeah, we could have eaten at my kitchen table on respective, opposite sides, maintaining a sense of professionalism that was already spiraling into the depths of blurred lines and looser boundaries.

But, the progression of sitting next to each other on the floor of my living room just kinda happened. With the leftovers of our dinner pushed aside on the glass coffee table in front of us, and the sides of our heads practically smushed together, looking through all the pictures I took of him on the small screen of my phone.

I put on a little music to keep things fun, hearing it play quietly in the background. Only the dim light from my kitchen was on. All of it felt relaxing. It was the first time Shouto was actually in my apartment. Without the barrier of an office, this felt less like work and more like indulgent fun.

Never a good thing to be friends with your clients. I'm not new to this business, and I know that.

Sure, you want a good relationship with them—but, a working relationship.

And, yet...

Somehow, I couldn't stop myself.

"Oh, oh—look at this one, Shouto." I mused softly of the next picture, hearing the glints of pride in my voice. "You look so handsome here."

I could feel the ends of his hair tickling my cheek as he leaned in closer to see. It was softer than I was expecting, smelling mostly of the park we just spent so much time in. But, remnants of his shampoo still lingered with every other note of scent.

"I do?" He asked, causing me to chuckle with his genuine surprise.

Rotating my body into his, my knees knocked against his outer thigh, leaning my back into the couch behind us that we ironically chose to ignore.

"You do. Everyone's gonna go crazy for it." I grinned, slowly finding his eyes in the dim light. "I say it's about time we get posting, don't you think?"

He looked up from the phone when he sensed my gaze—close in proximity, attention so completely undivided.

"If you think so." He uttered quietly, instinctively catching a glimpse of my mouth. "What happens when you do?"

I hummed and pulled away, closing my phone before turning my attention to my laptop on the coffee table.

It was already navigated to his social media page, his hidden, practically bare social media page that was about to become an overnight hit.

"Well, if you were an average person? Nothing for a little while." I explained, typing on my computer. "You'd need to build up your followers over a span of time. Figure out a posting schedule and content niche..."

Shouto kept his back resting against the couch as he watched me navigate to the files on my computer, pulling up all of the pictures we took of him. "Sounds like a lot of work."

"Eh, it is—when you don't have connections and a shortcut." My voice came out a little victoriously, clicking on a few pictures and transferring them to Shouto's social media. "I plan to make a post about you and tag your account on the HPSC page. That page has over forty-nine million followers, so once I send that message....things will definitely change—and fast."

The first set of pictures fully transferred to Shouto's page now, leaving me with the final few steps of filters, hashtags, and captions.

I hummed in thought, using my publicity experience to paint the identity of the heartthrob 'Shouto.'

"Hmm. I say—no filters or hashtags. We want you to appear laidback, cool, and a little careless. Do you agree?" I asked, turning to him in thought.

"I don't have an opinion." He shrugged.

Well, that certainly makes things easy.

I clicked past the filter and hashtags options, landing us on the next part. "Good. As for captions....is there anything you'd like the people to know?"

His head looked empty as he glanced at the caption screen, blinking a few times like it was utterly obvious.

"Well, we're at the park. We should....probably tell them so they know we were at the park." He uttered slowly, pricking my ears with a very certain word.

'We,' he says....

I cleared my throat a bit uncomfortably, turning my attention back to the computer screen.

"Uh—well—for starters, it would just be you, not...me." I reminded him, mulling over my creative thoughts for an idea. "And, yeah, they can see you're at the park though just from the background-"

"But...don't they want to know who took the picture?" He pushed to my surprise. "I think it should be 'we.'"

I'll be honest, his words caught me off guard, especially regarding such an insignificant topic.

Shouto's a man where very few things interest him—or, so it appears on the surface. He tends to just go with the flow—mostly, because he doesn't understand what the 'flow' is.

So, whenever something interests him enough to speak up and return to the topic, it's something that must really be on his mind. Something important to him.

But...he just doesn't understand how social media works.

Rubbing the back of my neck, my excuse for changing the subject was uncharacteristically weak.

"Let's just...think of something else. Okay?" I murmured, mentally beating my brain up for all the other things I could have possibly said.

Poise and charm have always been my specialties when it comes to this job. The longer I spend around Shouto, the more I find myself forgetting everything I know.

I don't like it.

He didn't say anything as I continued to brainstorm, looking at the computer screen with his own pondering thoughts.

"Hmmm. I know, how about 'it was a nice day.'" I sighed theatrically, gliding my hand over our heads to show my invisible presentation again. "It's simple, but also mysterious, because people will be wondering whyyy it was a nice day. Was it because of the park? Or someone you were with? Or-"

"It was the second one." He interrupted me plainly, causing my words to once again run dry.

Especially, because he sounded so serious. His eyes didn't soften the way they do when he makes a joke. Knowing Shouto, he wasn't trying to be charming either. He was just stating a simple fact that existed within his mind.

I thought he hated me? That's what he always says, anyways...

Even if I've already adjusted to his character, his blunt honesty still trips me up sometimes.

Silence consumed the space. One that was awkward for me, but not Shouto as he didn't get the social idea of awkward silence.

I guess that makes it a little less awkward...?

"Oh—well—the question....it was just rhetorical. But..." I trailed off, feeling a heavy barrier forming in my chest.

Suddenly, this whole thing feels a little too...close.

'Close' is where I usually tend to shut down.

I grazed my sternum, starting to feel microscopic under Shouto's gaze before my next actions came impulsively.

"A-Actually—fuck it—let's go full heartthrob." I practically blurted out, causing Shouto to jump from my abruptness. "I'm writing 'missing you' as the caption."

I tend to overreact a little when I shut down. It's because I feel panicked. Trapped. Looking for anything that could get me out of the situation, even at the expense of my feelings or the feelings of others.

Unfortunately, my fight or flight sense was able to become quite overbearing, thanks to the past.

My shut down overreactions happen in subtle ways mostly, usually just throwing myself into the complete opposite way the conversation was going.

I don't know where it was going with him and I just now. But, focusing back on the heartthrob thing seems to be my best bet.

Shouto watched me type almost frantically on the laptop, quirking a brow of confusion. "But...who am I supposed to be missing?"

Shrugging my shoulders, I kept my eyes to the screen, rechecking everything to ensure it was perfect.

"No one. But, in their little simp minds? It's every single one of them." I murmured a little slyly, thankful to feel some of my poised sleaze returning.

Until...

"I don't like that idea." Shouto's voice surprised me again, causing me to groan.

Up until this point, he's never really had interest in any of this. He always just followed my lead with a begrudging roll of his eyes.

Why is he so stubborn about this particular topic? Is he just getting more comfortable with me? Or, is this something that really has him curious?

"Ohhh, I see. You don't care about any of this until nowww-" I grumbled, before he cut me off again.

"I'd rather go with the 'it was a nice day' caption—and then include your social media account so people know we spent the day at the park." He said matter of factly, seeming completely stuck on the idea.

My head slumped between my shoulders, feeling a migraine starting to form as we butted heads again.

No different from any other day. I'd just started to forget how annoying he was these last few days...

"Stop saying 'we.' This isn't a 'we' account. It's about you." I explained a little more firmly, watching my words bounce directly off his thick skull. "And no one's gonna think you're a heartthrob if-"

Without warning, Shouto swiped my laptop from the coffee table and began typing on the screen like he owned the thing, causing me to panic and try prying it out of his hands.

"Hey! What are you doing? Gimme that!"

He simply rotated his body away from me, navigating to the search bar.

He really is such a brat.

"What's your username? We don't follow each other yet." He asked casually over my protesting, easily able to bat my prying hand away.

That was incredibly random and not even related to what we were talking about. Was he even listening to me?

And what's with this sudden initiative from him?—not even that—this sudden interest in including me and my social media account? He doesn't even like social media!

"You can't do that-" I tried, watching him start typing in my first name.

Sure there are probably a million 'Lani's,' but with my luck, he'd stumble across mine.

"Shouto, no!!" I panicked, practically climbing on top of him to grab the laptop.

Truly, I don't know what has me so nervous. There's nothing bad on my social media account, and I have a nice follower listing, thanks to all the connections I've made during my job.

But, for some reason, the idea of Shouto seeing my face...my personal—or social media 'personal' life, has me....

...embarrassed? Insecure? Why?

Like I said, for some reason, I feel like I'm under a microscope with him. So small. So exposed.

The force of my pushes and shoves caused him to topple over sideways and send the open laptop skidding out of his hands—and, luckily, unharmed.

He landed on his back with me on top of him, looking at me in surprise.

Oh shit...

I steeled myself on his body so I didn't slam into the glass coffee table we were next to, feeling his heat consume me from every angle.

His abdomen. His thighs. His chest. Every single piece of his body melted into mine. He was pinned underneath me, with our legs tangled together. Socked toes tickling against one another's.

Once again, he smelled like the park. But, now there was just a hint of spice from the chicken—and just a little bit of freshness from his detergent—and sweetness from the lemonade he was drinking.

And I...well, I just.....

"Sorry." I murmured, placing a hand on his chest to steady myself. "I'm....sorry..."

It was only then that the look on his face slowly began to morph into something else. His cheekbones lifted and his lips twitched, eyes lighting up and skin starting to flush.

He slapped a hand over his mouth abruptly, hair falling over his eyes as he breathed weirdly and heavily through his nose, body softly wracking like he was....

Wait...

Was he...

Laughing??

I looked at him in pure bewilderment, completely speechless.

I've never seen him laugh before. Hell, I've never heard it either—until today, I barely saw him smile.

Until now, I wouldn't have even been able to imagine what it sounded like. But, hearing it now, disrupts any assumptions I would have had to begin with.

His laugh was more breathy than audible through voice. It was awkward—awkward in a way that showed he truly didn't laugh very often. Awkward in a way that showed he was clearly insecure, not sure how to do it properly, or how to breathe, or how to even act.

The thought of him not laughing very often makes me sad.

But, not right now. Because, even if it was awkward, and quiet, and barely visible from this position, he was clearly laughing because something amused him. Something made him happy, and his chest swelled with the uncontrollable desire to emit joy.

I can't help but feel like that 'something'...was because of....

The same way his smile was contagious, so was his laugh. After a few moments, I found myself starting to chuckle with him, unable to cover my grin the way I normally would with my hands balancing my weight on him.

Our laughs started out quiet and slow, gradually building. It never built to anything huge and dramatic, but enough for our intermingled giggles to be heard through my small apartment. Soft and intimate in nature. Like we'd been friends for years, laughing over anything that crossed our minds.

Between the two of us emotionally constipated idiots, it wasn't something that lasted more than a few seconds. If one blinked, they might've missed the entire thing.

Shouto calmed down first, hair slipping away from his eyes and finding me. Even if his face had returned to its natural stoic look, he wore the afterglow of a good laugh. His features were softer and he was clearly relaxed.

When he was composed, I lowered my face towards his chest, not wanting him to see my natural smile before I had a chance to fix it.

"I still don't understand why you do that." He said, voice raspy from his laugh and laced with quiet interest.

I bit down on my bottom lip to stop my smile, finally lifting my face from his chest to look at him.

"Do what?"

He looked softer like this. Laying on the floor, with his forehead fully exposed and his hair spilling back onto the cozy rug of my floor. His dual colored eyes half lidded, and his head slightly tilted on the ground.

"You.....you cover your smile. You don't do it all the time. Just sometimes." He said quietly. "I think....when you really like something, you don't want people to know it."

For a guy who's supposed to be socially unaware, he just read the absolute hell out of me in a way that no one else ever had. He left me speechless for a third time today.

It's not the first time he's pointed out my smile. It's also not the first time he's noticed something about myself that I never did. The more he comments on things like this, the more I realize how closely he's watching me.

He must be like this with everyone, right? Just more perceptive than he lets on?

It was only now that I felt a cozy warmth resting on the small of my back. Had it not been for the subtle twitch of his fingers, I may have never noticed.

With his arm wedged between the couch and my body, it was legitimately the only place he could put his hand. Does he even notice? That he's touching me for the first time? That the pads of his fingers can't stop themselves from moving, gliding along my back every so often.

Does he feel the quickening pulse of his chest every time my breasts accidentally shift on him? Is he aware of the way my body feels in his arms?

He's Shouto. So, I'm sure he doesn't.

But, it doesn't change the fact that my perception of him is slowly changing into something else. Something I'm unable to grasp.

"Gosh. You're a lot different than I thought you'd be." I admitted quietly, feeling the perfect row of his abs pressing into my stomach.

He shifted underneath me and it discombobulated my brain, drowning deeper and craving more, more, more of his presence-

"How?" His voice was low and calm, reverberating straight through my sternum in a way that had my chest tightening.

I need to get off him.

Keeping my gaze on him, I slowly slid off his body and to the side, feeling his eyes watch me the entire time.

He kept his hand on my back until I was securely on the ground, hesitating and lingering his touch until finally pulling away.

Instantly, I felt colder. But, maybe that's just what happens when you lay on the floor.

The two of us adjusted on the floor until we were comfortable, both of us side by side, on our backs, looking at the dark ceiling.

"Well, you're funnier than I thought you'd be." I mused, placing my hands on my stomach and shooting him a glance.

He kept his eyes to the ceiling, brows furrowing ever so slightly. "I'm not trying to be."

With a shrug, my gaze stayed stuck on him, studying the left side of his face and the scar.

My fingers itch to touch it. His face. His scar. I want to know what happened, but it's not my place to ask yet.

"I guess that just makes you naturally funny then, right?" I questioned knowingly, hearing Shouto hum in slight acknowledgment.

A few heartbeats passed before his eyes left the ceiling, head slowly falling towards mine. The two colors of his hair tangled and mixed, spilling over his cheekbone and forehead.

"Do you......like funny people?" He asked almost vulnerable, seeming to have thought carefully about the question.

I enjoy when we talk like this—when he does, making an effort to be engaged and attentive.

Hearing his own personality shine through our conversations is one of my favorite things.

"Yes." My words were clear and concise, wanting him to be sure.

His lips formed a small 'oh' and he nodded. His mouth opened and closed with a little hesitation—rare for someone like him, seeming unsure about his next question, but asking it anyways.

"Funny...guys?" He asked with growing curiosity, eyeing my lip ring the way he always does.

Almost selfishly and seeking his attention, I toggled on the jewelry lightly with my tongue, watching his throat bob with a swallow.

"Those are the types of guys I usually end up falling for." I agreed dismissively, finding my dating history uninteresting at the moment. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

I was surprised when my heart skipped a few beats, not thinking my next question was something that excited me so much.

"Well, you've had a girlfriend. Clearly that means you must have some sort of type?" I alluded, inching myself just a little closer to him.

Up close is where I can see his face and reactions the clearest. His emotions are always so subtle, even a quick blink might mean you miss them.

Which is why I may not have noticed the incredibly subtle roll of his eyes at the mention of his girlfriend—or, ex-girlfriend, as he called it, seeming like the topic troubled him

"It wasn't....I didn't date her because I was attracted to her." He said more quickly than I was expecting, appearing very intent to let me know this piece of information.

Well, that's not something you hear everyday.

Once again, Shouto manages to surprise me.

"No?"

He shook his head softly, bringing his eyes back up to mine. "Um....have you ever heard of a...quirk marriage?"

Instantly, my brows raised in shock. Of all the possibilities running through my head, that was certainly bottom of the barrel.

"Those still exist?" I almost gawked, hoping I didn't come off insensitive.

But, I've learned it's pretty hard to offend Shouto.

"For my family—my dad, it was....it was a big thing." He sighed, seeming to bear an invisible weight on the topic. "He had one. And then he tried to make my older brother, Touya, have one, but it...backfired on him and his fiancée."

Holy shit. This is the first piece of information Shouto's ever told me about his family, and already, I'm in shock.

Endeavor had a quirk marriage? And then, he...he tried to make his kids follow in his footsteps?

Not gonna lie. That sounds sketch. Quirk marriages are already known to be taboo and borderline illegal. But, the number one hero supporting them? Not many people know that.

Not only this, but it's not lost on me that Shouto avoids talking about his father. For one, he never mentioned he was a Todoroki until he absolutely had to. Two, in the few times it's come up, he immediately shuts the topic down.

My interest in this family only grows. As does my interest with Shouto's thoughts about it.

And, not for any publicity motives. Just my own curiosity.

"Wow. I didn't know that." I uttered softly, furrowing my brows with a little pity.

His eyes fell from mine and to the rug, seeming lost in his own head.

"Mhm. Even after all that, my dad tried it with me out of habit." He explained quietly, giving his shoulders a lazy shrug.

"But, it clearly didn't work." I assumed, watching him nod.

Inhaling deeply through his nose, he recalled the events of his own quirk marriage tiredly. "A week before I was meant to propose, I ended things."

My brows raised in question, not expecting the answer.

He ended things? I don't know why that surprises me. I guess I've just noticed that if it doesn't come to battles and hero work, Shouto has a hard time taking initiative. Not because he's incapable, but because he doesn't care enough to stray from what he knows.

He told me last time that him and his ex were together for three years. Certainly, that sounds like he was comfortable.

So...

"Why did you end it?"

His face remained stoic, but still, I caught the way he chewed on his bottom lip. That, combined with the small twitch of his eyes, leads me to believe he's got a creeping feeling of anxiety, even if he doesn't realize it.

He opened his mouth, letting it fall closed when no words came out.

"Everyone keeps asking me that. Like....I'm supposed to have a reason." He murmured, looking intensely conflicted by his own actions.

With a soft chuckle, I rolled onto my side to face him better.

"Well, you never end things like that for nothing." I explained, seeing a piece of his white hair about to poke into his eye. "Deep down, there was a reason, even if you don't know it."

He kept his gaze to the rug, and the hair shifted even closer to his pupil, causing my hand to slowly come up on instinct.

His body remained utterly relaxed when I gently grazed his forehead, gliding my fingers into his hair before carefully sweeping it back.

The softness of his hair and the warmth of his skin were too mesmerizing.

His eyes slowly fell closed as I touched him, almost seeming like he enjoyed it. His reaction made me indulgently scoot closer until our feet bumped together, smoothing his hair back one more time even though he didn't need it.

Knowing how blunt and straightforward Shouto can be, I never imagined he'd be someone who enjoyed being touched.

It was only when I slowly retracted my hand that his eyes opened half lidded and piercing, looking at me in a sort of dazed, confused question.

But, it looked to be confusion as to why I stopped. Not why I did it in the first place.

We were close enough to where the bottom of my chin could rest on his shoulder. But, I restrained myself, not wanting to take things too far.

"Did you love her?" My voice came out quiet, looking into his dual colored eyes.

His gaze met mine, mixing with questions, intensity, and thoughts he couldn't process.

"I don't.....think I'm capable of loving anyone in that way." He mumbled in a soft breath, studying the features of my face in distraction.

I could feel our heads hovering closer together the quieter our voices became. It felt like we were sharing secrets, keeping them hidden from the rest of the world.

"Why do you say that?" I matched the quiet tone of his voice, feeling our eyes melting together more intensely.

His brows twitched together in uncertainty and he swallowed harshly, being the one to slowly look away from me first.

"Everyone told me she was perfect." He said, looking back to the rug and giving his head a small shake. "If I couldn't love someone like that, then I must be....broken, or something."

I smiled softly in amusement for his naivety. He's twenty years old—soon to be twenty-one if his Instagram birthday is accurate. Regardless, he's still young. He's got so much to learn about the world, and these are the moments where it shows.

"You're not broken." I reassured, gently knocking my knee against his own. "Perfect to someone else might not be perfect to you. That's okay. It's just a preference."

"Preference?" He asked, causing me to prop my head in my hand.

"Shouto, I'm going to be very straightforward with you. You need to find your own identity." I said. "It's clear to see you have no idea what you really want when it comes to most things. Even something as simple as picking a pastry has you overanalyzing everything until someone else makes the decision for you."

He remained quiet, looking at the floor with an empty face. If I'd just met him, I'd get the impression he was blowing me off—like I used to think.

But, now, I know he's not blowing me off or ignoring me. He's processing. Trying to understand and make sense of the words as they enter his head.

"It was your choice to end things with your ex-girlfriend." I continued patiently, trying to give him some support he seemed to be lacking from others. "Even if you don't know why, it was still something you chose to do. It doesn't mean you're broken. It's just another step in you finding out who you are. Nothing wrong with that."

After a few moments, he slowly nodded, starting to put the pieces together for himself.

"So, you're saying....that could be me just.....figuring things out?" He questioned, looking to me for confirmation.

There we go.

"It is." I smiled at him proudly. "And you'll continue to find more questions than answers. But, as time goes on? It will all start to click."

"Has it clicked for you?"

I let out a small laugh at the irony. Even if he didn't know it, he just called me out on not taking my own advice.

"Not even close. I'm twenty-three, and I've got a lot of problems." I admitted honestly, cringing with a chuckle.

He nodded in acknowledgement, face scrunching with piqued interest, and mouth fighting to speak his thoughts into words.

"Do you....do you want to talk about them?" His question surprised me.

Because, I really expected him to dismiss the topic. Either too confused, or not caring enough to learn the meaning behind my words.

Like I said, whenever Shouto wants to keep a topic going, it means it's something that really interests him.

And, even if he didn't know it, he was trying to offer me support. A new type of support we haven't delved into before.

And I'd prefer we didn't. For my sake. For his sake. For everyone's sake, it's best we never do.

I looked at him sweetly before face palming against his shoulder, feeling the exhaustion of the day starting to dawn on me.

"We'd be here all night if I did." My words came out muffled against his shirt, trying to give him the hint to drop the subject.

But, Shouto being Shouto, he didn't pick up on the hint.

"Really? I don't mind staying up. I slept in this morning." He explained seriously, causing me to giggle.

"You're too adorable for your own good sometimes, aren't you?"

Shouto's body melted closer to mine. The dim lights of my apartment enclosed us in our own little box, away from all the dangers and chaos of the world.

"Is that.......is that you doing the 'joking' thing again?" He asked quietly, trying to be more straightforward with his questions.

The spot on his shoulder was starting to become too comfortable for both of us, causing me to slowly pull my face way.

"No. I'm serious." I whispered, letting my head fall back against the floor.

My eyes wanted to close, and I could feel Shouto's gaze on me now, watching my features curiously.

I tend to get touchy when I'm tired. It's why I always sleep with a body pillow.

There's no body pillow here at the moment though.

"Mm. It is getting late though." I murmured lazily, resisting the urge to touch his warmth again. "I don't want you walking home this late at night."

The irony. I'm worried for his safety when he's a top notch hero. Ugh. What the hell's happening to me?

Shouto didn't say anything this time, continuing to alternate his relaxed gaze between the floor, and the ceiling. But, somehow, it always circled back to my sleepy face every few seconds.

"Do you want to spend the night?" I asked, rubbing my tired face to try and keep my heavy eyes open. "You can take the couch. It's pretty comfy."

I caught the way his irises barely glinted with a second of eagerness. "I do want to spend the night."

"Great. I'll get you a-"

"Oh. No—I meant I want to. But, I can't." He followed up, giving me a repeat of when he did the same thing a few days ago.

"You do that a lot." I mused with a chuckle. "Why can't you stay?"

"I don't have any clothes for tomorrow night, and I won't have the time to go home and get them after work." He said, instantly perking my curiosity.

"Oh? What's happening tomorrow night?"

If it were anyone else, they may have hesitated on their next words. But, Shouto being Shouto...

"I'm having dinner with my ex-girlfriend and her family." He said blunt and casual, seeming oblivious to how that sounded to outsiders.

Suddenly, I felt a little more awake. A little stiff now, too.

How many times is this guy gonna leave me speechless today?

"Oh." My words came out drier than I meant. "I...didn't realize you two still keep in touch."

I didn't know if he sensed my change in tone. But, judging from the quick glance of his eyes, perhaps he did. That's rare coming from him.

"She texts me. But, also gets upset when I don't reply. I think...it's 'complicated,' as Midoriya would say." He explained, causing me to nod.

"Usually is."

I guess even Shouto isn't immune to messy breakups. Still though...

She texts him, he said. It sounds like she's still interested.

To her, the breakup might not have been mutual. Even if Shouto says he wasn't attracted to her, or even loved her...

Her side of the story might be very different.

Everyday, I only find myself with more questions when it comes to Shouto's life.

"I shouldn't keep you waiting then." I smiled, giving him a clear cue if he wanted to leave.

Judging from the way he glanced at the front door, I believe he actually got the cue. Which only made his next answer even more interesting.

"You're....you're not." He uttered a little awkwardly, not moving from his spot on the floor.

Such a big change from our first few encounters when he was practically clawing his way out the door of my office.

"Do you...want to stay longer?" I suggested, feeling my hand itching to touch him.

He just looked so cozy on the floor. So warm and comfortable in the dim lights.

"Do you...want me to?" He raised a brow, causing me to turn the question back around on him.

"What do you want to do?"

Make your own decisions. Learn your own identity.

Shouto thought for an answer in careful silence, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue before speaking.

"I'd.....like to stay if that's alright." He proposed, searching my eyes for an immediate answer.

Once again, he always looks to me for confirmation when it comes to things. Like my opinion matters so much.

I'm starting to learn that the more he trusts and gets comfortable with someone, the more he might be susceptible to become easily influenced by them.

I need to be careful with that. For many different reasons.

But, for now, he made his own decision. I'm proud of him for that.

"Then it's alright with me, too." I whispered with a smile, feeling my eyes so incredibly heavy. "Mm. I'm getting tired though. I won't be very fun company. Sorry."

My head slowly began to slip out of my propped hand until it fell altogether.

Only, it never hit the floor as Shouto's warm hand reached out quickly and caught it, cradling my cheek and jaw safely down to the floor.

"That's okay. I don't mind staying, anyways." I heard him say through my tired brain, feeling the warmth of his hand still on my face.

It never left even after my head was back on the floor. His open palm acted as a pillow for my cheek, lulling me deeper into his presence.

The room fell quiet, aside for the music still playing softly in the background. Shouto's hand remained under my cheek, and he added to his sentence minutes later.

"And...I....I think you're still fun." He followed up, causing me to chuckle half asleep and dazed.

My sound let him know I was vaguely still awake. From the direction of his voice, I registered he turned towards me.

"Are you cold? There's....this blanket right here. Should I put it on you?" He asked with a humorous amount of concern, yet I'd lost the capacity to answer.

"Mmnd."

"I don't know what that means." Shouto sighed of my incoherent sound, brain stalling in a moment of silence.

But, a few moments later, I felt the blanket drape over me, with the ends of it being tucked under my chin awkwardly and carefully.

"So much better." I sighed, feeling the reservations leave my brain as I snuggled closer to his warmth.

"Okay." He murmured.

"Goodnight, Shouto." I whispered, reaching my arms out and grabbing onto the first thing my hands could find.

The body pillow in my grip moved slightly. But, not away from me. Closer, sighing softly to himself as sleep crept into his own voice now.

"Goodnight.....Lani."