exploring the depths

and immediately you’re on route, dragging bakugou by the arm who’s still scanning through the kitchen about things to ask about when you stop at the pool in the garden.

it’s perfect you think. your link arms again with katsuki, chest pressed against his side as the estate agent watches you talk the ear off the blonde. he notices how katsuki’s narrow eyes relax and you seem to take him through multiple scenarios of life with you, him and this pool.

“yeah? the shallow end isn’t too high for your cousins either.” then he calls to the estate agent, “oi! how shallow is the pool on this end?”

“two metres tall, sir.”

“oh yes you’re right! and imagine summer parties…”

upstairs looking around the main bedroom and him and her ensuite bathrooms is when you unlink arms with katsuki. off on your own to peer through everything as katsuki stands still talking to the man.

they talk loud enough for you to still hear, humming to yourself when you like a particular answer.

you freeze, gasping when you land on a detail you love. “katsuki! katsuki come!”

bakugou stomps over, “what babe?”

and he stops beside you, meeting your eyes in your mirror. “his and her sinks!!”

he chuckles, an arm circling your waist, “you say you want one but you’ll still be hoggin’ mine when we’re brushing our teeth.”

you hit his chest playfully, “so? it’s the fact we’d both have our own! with our own cabinets and stuff.”

he kisses your temple, taking his chance to analyse the bathroom. “mhm, look at the shower. you’ve always wanted an overhead walk-in one.” he breathes in your ear and for a second you think about how all the things he’s mentioned today have been for you.

about whether a dryer can fit in the utility room, if they’d be able to install ceiling speakers in every room, if they can stick the tv on the wall so you’d have more room underneath it.

“i’m gonna treat you when we get home,”

“what? how? why?”

“you’re a good boyfriend. appreciate you a lot.”

bakugou shrugs, “won’t say no to that.” then he nods to the bed, “did you see the bed was queen size? not king but fuckin’ queen.”

you both shake your heads, “i’m sure we can build our own one.”

“you mean i can.”

These words haunted Bakugou from the moment he woke up to go out on patrol, within every conversation he had with someone and finally when a random villain he didn’t even catch the name of, decided to attack him out of the blue at the end of the day. Now, very rarely does Bakugou get scared. He knew he wasn’t afraid of this wannabe in front of him who just wanted his moment of being known before being thrown in the slammer. But he couldn’t help the fact he could feel his pulse everywhere, raging at his temples and hammering in his chest. The sweat down his forehead wasn’t from overexertion but really from stress. This anxiety that he wouldn’t be able to get home in time, that he wouldn’t be able to see you without the look of daunting disappointment… this anxiety was making him sloppy.

As if he was working with a time limit, like a bomb was about to go off, hits managed to slash against his cheeks and a larger gash against his chest. He was using his quirk as much as he could, setting explosions off wherever he thought the villain was, electric orange blooming across the sky. He knew on a normal day this fight was easy, a few precise shots and the man would be down but everything felt longer today, hardersince you were on the line.

When he finally got the okay that the villain was restrained, he wasted no time in blasting into the dark sky, off in the direction of your apartment. The shouts from below that he needed to get cleaned up were indistinguishable noise to him, only your words from the night before rattling in his head.

Today was the first time in a while that you felt calm about everything. The phrase it is what it is, swirling inside your head trying to protect you before the blow. If he comes back again whilst you were sleeping, it’s okay and if he doesn’t come back at all, that’s also okay. You’ll just tell him you just have to end it, the timing wasn’t right for you both, or love wasn’t enough or whatever excuses you hear in the romcoms you watch whilst waiting for your lover.

The rapid knocks at your front door came closer to harsh bangs, awakening you from your slumber of thoughts. Suddenly, panic flooded your chest, who was so violently abusing your door at this time? To some surprise, it was your boyfriend, the love of your life but to complete bewilderment he stood or leaned against your doorway, limply, fine gashes across his rosy cheeks, a long cut across his chest mixed with dark crimson dried and leaking blood. You could even notice some bruises around his arms from heavy usage from his gauntlets. As your eyes met his, they looked tired, darker than usual with his shoulders heaving from over-exhaustion. Did he fly over here?

“Katsuki? Why- What happened? Was it really bad today? Are you okay-,“ you paused your fire of questions as the man before you raised his cheeks in a pained smile.

“I didn’t want to be late, baby.”

Your eyes widened at his words, gripping on one of his fingers to drag him into your apartment, to your living room and softly pushing his large body down onto the sofa.

“You idiot! I didn’t mean for you to come home like this! You could have waited to get patched up or.. or..” you rambled, scattering around your home for the first aid kit you kept at the bottom of the cupboard.

In your rush back to the living room, first aid kit clutched to your chest, you managed to trip over your own feet, curse your fluffy socks. With a squeal and your eyes squeezed shut, preparing for the impact from the hard ground, instead, you were met by the muscled smooth arms of Bakugou.

Staring into his ruby eyes like a princess being held by a prince, before you could utter an apology he spoke, “I thought I was the injured one here. We can’t have you falling for me again?” he smirked, before wincing at the stretch on his cheeks.

“I can’t believe you're trying to flirt with me, right now,” you tried to keep your expression stern but you couldn’t fight the tiny smile you let slip. You rolled your eyes in disguise, sitting down on the coffee table while he sat before you on the sofa.

“When would be a better time for you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe when you’re not bruised and bleeding on my sofa?”

A tiny chuckle escaped Bakugou’s lips as you got out a cotton pad and some antiseptic to begin cleaning up his cuts. “To be honest, I didn’t realise I had so fuckin’ many ‘till I got here. Just wanted to see you.” His last words came out breathy, like he just got into a fight before he got here. Which he did but he’s been sitting down since then.

“You still need to take care of yourself though, Katsu,” you leaned in closer to him, beginning to dab the cuts that decorated his face. “I still would have been here if you were a couple minutes late.”

He still looked as pretty as ever up close; a few scars could never change that. His eyes shined despite his tiredness, beautiful wine-red gems for pupils with splashes of orange. Still, with everything between you both, Bakugou gazed at you longingly, trying to find if you still had love for him in your eyes. You did, but for the moment they were glazed over.

Bakugou didn’t wince as you continued your mission to clean him up though he frowned at your words, “but yesterday… you said you didn’t know what you’d do if I was late today and I couldn’t have you fuckin’ leave me. I belong with you.” He held your free hand with both of his resting it on his lap and rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. Your chest warmed and you felt your body get hot like a schoolgirl at his words but you decided to drift over them for the moment.

“I wouldn’t have left, I wasn’t really sure what I meant by that,” you whispered back moving down to his chest and collarbones to clean up the scratches that scattered there. Bakugou tilted his head in question before silence settled over you both. Once everything was cleaned you placed a couple of plasters on him, including one on the bridge of his nose. You felt Bakugou’s bronde eyelashes flutter against your fingers as you hovered the plaster over his cut to get the placement right. His nose scrunched up at your ticklish touch, his top lip coming up to feel for his nose.

A giggle bubbled up inside you, “Katsuki relax your face, let me put this one down.”

“Wait, wait,” he brought up his hand to rub at his nose before relaxing his face completely, all his features dropping, “I don’t know why it fuckin’ tickles so much.”

Once you placed the sticky fabric down, you brought your hands back to your lap, relaxing your shoulders now that you were done. Bakugou’s eyes opened again meeting your soft ones in front of him. If he wanted, he could pretend there wasn’t still a heavy air sitting between you both, that you both haven’t been on the rocks recently and there wasn’t that massive argument yesterday. But he knew he had to change.

“How can I make us better?” the blonde asked, voice still gruff in accent but sentimental in tone.

You sighed, slowly putting the medical items around you back into its green case, “I just want you to try again. With me. With us. I’ll try too because I know we can work, right?” You blinked, your eyes becoming wet and glossy.

Bakugou nodded rapidly in reply like a child promising to be good but upon seeing you cry he asked, “can I hug you?” So unlike Bakugou to ever ask before doing what he desired but he still felt like he was treading on thin ice. After receiving a timid nod from you, he engulfed you in his arms, even lifting you to slide onto his lap.

Feeling you wipe at your eyes, he rested his head on top of yours, squeezing you tight. You smelt of tangerines and fabric conditioner on top of him and he couldn’t help but press his nose into your hair. “I’ll do better for you, fuck. I didn’t realise how bad it had gotten between us. You know I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you all day, that I just had to do this right for you. Didn’t wanna see you cry again, sweetheart.”

You chuckled a little, a few sniffles peeking out and feeling warm again in his embrace, “these aren’t sad tears more like hopeful ones. I believe in us.”

“I believe in us too.”

do you want to read more ?

you walk round the car to kneel down to meet your baby face to face, and gently you tugged at his round rosy cheeks before pushing his unreasonably soft hair out of his forehead, and pressing a kiss right between his brows.

“promise mama you’ll be ok?” you fix up his baby blue uniform before looking up at katsuro’s gleaming eyes and wide grin.

“of course i will!” katsuro exclaims as his father helps him loop his arms through the bands of his backpack from behind.

“that’s my boy.” katsuki beams, and it was his turn to kneel down and talk to his mini look-alike, so you stood up and ruffled katsuro’s hair before going back to the car to check if there was anything left behind.

“katsuro, you remember what I said?” katsuki places his large scarred hands on his son’s much smaller shoulders.

“be myself, because i’m cool and awesome and if they don’t like me then they can kiss my butt.” katsuro sticks his tongue out and squeezes his eyes shut in emphasis as his father laughs heartily.

“that’s exactly right. but also make sure to remember that you stay respectful to your teachers and help out some of the other kids ‘cause not all of them are as strong as you are.” he ruffled his hair and grinned fondly at his son who beamed up at him and nodded his head enthusiastically.

“you better not make katsuro late on his first day!” you come back around, raising your brows at your boys as katsuki wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close to his side. “alright sweetheart, have fun ok?”

all of a sudden katsuro came rushing towards you, stretching his little arms as wide as he could to wrap just around your legs, and bury his head in your thighs. “i love you mama” his voice was muffled as he spoke into your leg, and you felt a dull ache throb in your heart. he was gonna be ok- right?

“what, and i don’t get a hug little demon?” katsuki grumped with a dramatic pout, crossing his arms. it nearly made you laugh just how similar he looked to katsuro when he had his little temper tantrums.

“nope!” katsuro said, slightly tilting his head just to stick his tongue out once again at his father. you laughed and patted his head, kneeling down to whisper into katsuro’s ear before glancing up at your husband.

“papa will be really sad if you don’t give him a goodbye hug.” you bring your face close to his as you smooth your hands over his velvet cheeks. “we don’t want papa to be sad, do we?” you cock your head at him, and you fight a laugh as you see the gears turning in katsuro’s little head, with him knitting his brows together and a frown growing on his plump lips. after a second he shakes he his head and sulks over to katsuki, who is still looking away with a dramatic pout.

but as soon as he felt his son’s small face press against his leg, katsuki immediately melted, and a rare smile stretched his lips. “now come on big boy, you gotta get to school.”

katsuro sprung up, as if he just realised what he came here for. “oh no i’ll be late! see you later mama, see you later papa!” katsuro screams as he begins to run off to meet all the other kids in identical baby blue tops at the doorway. just as he goes to enter the doors, he turns around and waves at you two vigorously, nearly hitting some other children and a teacher in the process.

“he’ll be ok right?” you say, pressing yourself back into katsuki’s side and waving back half heartedly.

The next thing you knew, you woke up to find yourself laying in examination room. You slowly sat up, wincing quietly. From what you can remember, the curse you were dealing with was a bit more brutal than you had anticipated. And though you managed to exorcise it, you don’t exactly know what happened after the fight. You do remember collapsing on the ground and needing to take a long nap. Though you didn’t know how you ended up here.

Shoko was sitting by the bed, her eyes carefully inspecting your body.

“So... how’re you feeling?” she asks.

You move your body a bit, testing your limbs out.

“I’m aching- though not too much. It’s bearable,” you tell her, watching as she jots down some notes onto a clipboard.

“Well that’s good, considering you sustained some pretty life-threatening injuries.”

You freeze at her words- you didn’t think the fight went that bad. And to think you were the one arguing with your boyfriend about how he didn’t have to worry so much.

“Hey Shoko, first of all, thank you for healing me. Probably would’ve been dead without you- I owe you one. Second, do you mind not telling Yuuta about this? Like try to downplay how injured I got, yeah?” you plead with her, hoping she could keep this a secret.

Shoko’s lips purse as your boyfriend walks into the room.

“She’s not the one who healed you,” he says, his tired eyes meeting yours. Shoko clears her throat, as if to say something, but instead leaves the room.

The silence was deafening as Yuuta makes his way to pull up a chair next to your bed. His eyes never broke contact, as if he was waiting for you to say something. But just what were you supposed to say when you really had no idea what happened?

“..So I got rid of that curse... That’s kinda neat,” you tell him, awkward chuckles escaping your lips.

To your surprise, the corners of his lips turn up, and his gaze becomes soft.

“Yeah, that is neat,” he chuckles, reaching out to hold your hand.

Yuuta wants to tell you everything. How everyone was worried when you suddenly didn’t respond to any attempts at contact. How he took off to where you were heading. How he found your still body laying in the middle of nowhere, barely clinging onto life.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t chastise you at all in fact- how could he? It’s not like your words before you left were wrong- you're very capable of going off on your own. You just got terribly unlucky this time. He didn’t want you to harbor any guilt for your words.

Yuuta presses a soft kiss to the palm of your hand. You’re alive, and that’s all he chooses to focus on.

GOJO

You cursed under your breath the moment Gojo walked into the bedroom. Normally, after being separated for a bit you’d be thrilled to see him. Not today though- you weren’t prepared for any quips he had to offer.

“I don’t want to hear it, so please don’t say anything,” you grumble, shuffling around in bed so you can turn your back on your boyfriend.

“God-no don’t do that. Shoko literally said no harsh movements while you’re healing,” Gojo sighs, walking over to bed to lay you flat on your back.

You furrow your brows at him, your lips forming a cute pout.

“Fine, but I still don’t want to hear it,” you tell him again.

Gojo takes a seat on the floor next to the bed, “Hear what?”

“That I was wrong to take this mission. That the curse was far more than anything I could handle,” you murmur, repeating his exact words from shortly before you chose not to listen and go on said mission. He told you he had a bad feeling about it and to leave it to someone like Nanami. But you were resilient, accusing your boyfriend of not giving you enough credit where it was due.

In the end it turned out that you were the one not giving his words any credit- as he was completely correct. The curse was far stronger than what was reported, and it didn’t take long for it to swiftly knock you off your feet.

“Is that what you think I want to say to you?” he scoffs, propping his elbow up on the side of your bed, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand.

“Oh woe is me- the love of my life got terribly injured and they think I’m gonna try and brag about how I was right,” even though he had his sunglasses on, you could tell he was rolling his eyes at you.

Gojo lifts his other hand to your cheek, caressing it gently. He's so incredibly glad that he still gets the chance to hold you like this. He doesn’t even want to think about what the alternative could’ve been.

“I love you,” you tell him, leaning into his touch.

“Funny, I was about to say that,” he says, his thumb rubbing small circles on you cheek.

“Then maybe you should talk quicker,” you chuckle as Gojo leans forward to give you a quick peck on the lips.

Gojo spends the rest of the day tending to your needs. He receives special instruction from Shoko on how to care for you, and he goes above and beyond to make sure you’re better than before. Some may argue he’s doing more than enough to nurse you back to health, but to Gojo that’s what you deserve.

God forbid he ever think otherwise.

MEGUMI

Megumi was standing in front of your hospital bed for some time now, though he never spoke a word. Instead, his eyes were fixated on the bandages across your body.

He’s definitely brooding, you think to yourself as you sit up in bed. You look down at yourself- your injuries should be mostly healed by now. You might even get to leave the hospital today.

But then you remember the reason why you were even admitted into the hospital- and you felt like cringing just a bit. It was Megumi who told you that it didn’t seem safe to go on this mission- especially alone. But you rebuked his words, and in the end your stubbornness won out. Though you can’t exactly say that it was a win for you. The curse was more than you could handle, and it wasn’t long before you were easily overpowered and sustained many injuries.

“You seem upset,” you finally break the silence. Megumi’s gaze tear away from your body, finally meeting your eyes.

“Believe it or not, it’s upsetting to hear that my s/o is at the hospital because they’re really injured,” he sighs, crossing his arms. To any passerby, your boyfriend would appear as disappointed, but you knew this wasn’t the case.

Megumi was beating himself on the inside, feeling as though he was responsible for your current state. He wasn’t there to protect you, so the least he could’ve done was persuade you to not take the mission in the first place. If only he was just a bit more stubborn. If only he could’ve suggested that you go with a partner instead of by yourself. If only-

“Hey,” you say, snapping him out of his thoughts, “it’s not your fault you know.”

Megumi’s eyes widen for a moment, “I didn’t say-”

“No, but you were thinking it. I can tell,” you smile at him, motioning him to sit on the bed next to you. When he does, you grasp his hands, looking at him with the same smile that always makes his heart race. How were you able to smile like that even in this state?

“It’s my fault for biting off more than I can chew, alright? Don’t think that this,” you motion to the bandages adorning your body, “is because of you. You know better than me that fighting a curse is never going to be easy. So don’t.... don’t feel guilty. Because there’s nothing you could have ever done to change my mind.”

Megumi lets out a light chuckle. How funny, you were the one that was injured, yet here you were comforting him. It was always like this with the two of you. No matter what the situation was, you were always there for him.

He lifts your hand to his lips, kissing each of your knuckles slowly.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he murmurs.

It wasn’t long before visiting hours were over, and Megumi was shooed away from your room. Though as he’s leaving, he’s thinking of all the ways he could reciprocate all the love you’ve given him.

After all, you’ve done so much for him, how could he not want to do the same for you?

He jumped, head snapping back to you, now very much awake and glaring at him. You were standing now, just a step in front of the chair you were sleeping in and maybe two feet away from him. Your hands were balled into fists at your sides, eyes full of what he deciphered as mostly anger and a little bit of something else. His eyes widened slightly at the rage that radiated off of you, smacking into him as forcefully as if you'd shoved him. Where you were usually soft, you were now taunt, the anger pulled back like a steel wire, ready to snap at the slightest inclination. He considered his next words carefully.

"Hi, baby," he croaked out, hoping it sounded less pathetic to your ears than it did to his. He watched your fists tighten, your knuckles straining and turning white, and he thought that maybe it was a good thing he was already in the hospital.

"Don't. Don't," you ground through your teeth. But you took a step toward him anyway, unable to tolerate the two too many feet between you any longer. You reached out a hand to grip onto the railing of his bed, both to steady you and to ensure you didn't throttle him, the plastic groaning under the force of your grasp. The object of your fury never took his eyes of you, his usual expression of indifference replaced by a softer one reserved only for you.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was? I was fucking working when you called and then I listened to your message and almost took out a family of four trying to rush here as fast as I could," you took a breath, and he winced at how it broke, "and they wouldn't let me see you. I caused a scene in front of everyone in the lobby because I was sure it was going to be the last time I saw you and they wouldn't let me-"

The brush of the fingers of his uninjured hand over the knuckles still gripping the bed railing cut you off. You squeezed your eyes shut, unwilling to look at him and unwilling to let him see the tears that burned behind your eyelids, tipping your head back and letting out a shaky exhale. His fingers drifted up to your wrist, wrapping around it with caution, gently prying your hand from the railing. You let him, feeling his fingers weave through yours and failing to fight back the whimper as he squeezed.

Your words tumbled through his mind as he pieced together the events of the day. He had been working with another agency to apprehend an unknown villain that had been terrorizing civilians in a nearby apartment complex. His motive had been unknown, but that was irrelevant to Bakugo, who had chosen to rely on the element of surprise to get the upper hand against the assailant. It would've worked, too, had the villain's quirk not been one that manipulated glass--the window he crashed through was quickly weaponized against him as he felt the shards pierce through his skin at every angle.

He'd managed to knock the villain out with a blast, but not before a shard of glass had impaled his palm. Luckily, the damage had been lessened by his gloves, but it was still significant. He remembered the ache in his body as he slid to the floor, wincing as he heard a quiet sloshing noise as he made contact with the puddle of blood he'd evidently created beneath him. He was unsure of the damage, but guessed it was pretty severe, if that puddle was any indication of the extent of his injuries. With his usable hand, he pulled his cell phone from the waist pocket of his suit, eyes softening at the picture of you he'd saved as his lock screen.

It was his favorite picture of you. It was a rare off day for both of you, and you'd decided that it was as good of a day as any to pack up a picnic and head outside. Neither one of you had bothered to look at the forecast, though, and within an hour you were caught in a downpour. You'd ran underneath the cover of a tree, and Bakugo had worried that it had ruined the day for you. He was surprised when he heard the cackle that escaped you, a laugh of his own bubbling from his throat when he looked to you and found you doubled over, body shaking from how hard you were laughing, going on about how you'd never thought you'd see his hair look so flat. He snorted, incredulous, and whipped out his phone to take a picture, to show you just how charming you looked.

You'd raised both hands up at him, lunging to grab the phone out of his hands, when he took the picture. You groaned every time you saw the picture, whining at him to change it to something else, but he never would. He told you somebody needed to keep you humble, but the truth was that he had never seen you look so beautiful. You were wild in the picture and wild in his heart-- the only person to ever take hold of him in both hands and refuse, despite all of his warnings, to let him go. There was a boldness in you that called to his own. You frightened him and he could not get enough of it.

He'd opened your messages and pressed the call button, mostly relying off of muscle memory as his vision began to fade. He waited as the phone rang, cursing under his breath when he heard the familiar tone of your voicemail. "Hi, angel," he whispered hoarsely after the tone, "I, uh, might've fucked up a bit--" he pulled the phone away from his face, coughing harshly and spitting, not bothering to look at the red he knew would be there, "I love you. And I'm sorry." He hung up, and had the thought to send you his location, so you could know whereabout the nearest hospital was, shooting down the next thought that told him if they find you in time. He let the phone slip out of his hands and tilted his head back, letting out a pained breath. It wasn't long before his world went black.

Evidently someone had found him, though, and he sighed as he felt the pressure of your fingers squeezing back at his own. "Baby," he whispered to you softly, mouth snapping shut at the return of your piercing glare.

"Don't say shit to me right now, Katsuki," you told him, and he couldn't help the way his heart fluttered at the way you said his name, not bothering with the formality you knew would bother him, even if you were upset with him. Always considerate, even when he was not. You squeezed your eyes shut again, pulling in a breath to steel your resolve that was quickly rumbling at the way his thumb traced circles into the side of your hand. You dropped your head, not ready to look at him.

"I know that you have worked hard, and that you are wholly capable of things that are unimaginable to most other people," you ground out, gritting your teeth, "but you are still human. And I don't know what exactly you think you still have left to prove but you need to find a better way because my heart can't take this," your free hand dragged over your chest, still feeling the ache. You felt tears slip out under your lash line, and quickly brushed them away with the back of your hand. Eyes still squeezed shut, you felt yourself be pulled forward, hips tapping against the bed railing as Katsuki's hand made its way up your arm. You felt his fingers at your jaw line, and you let him pull your chin up, opening your eyes to look at him.

His gaze held nothing but worry as his fingers reached up to wrap around the back of your head, pulling you forward until your forehead met his. "I'm sorry," he whispered, nose nudging your own, "I'm so sorry."

The wounded noise you let out broke something in him, and his hand dropped down to fight with the bed railing, trying to push it down to close the distance between you. "Fuckin'-- thing," he spat out, annoyance bleeding into relief at the laugh you coughed out, reaching down to help him pull it down.

"C'mere," he whispered, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you toward him. He shuffled over to make room, grunting at the strain as you whisper-yelled at him to be careful. You sat down on the bed next to him and laid down gently, his arm slotting under your shoulders and pulling you until you were curled into his side. Your head came to rest on his chest and you turned into him, needing to be closer, needing to breathe him in and know that he was intact and alive in this bed. He pressed soft kisses to your hairline.

"I'm sorry," he murmured against your skin, "that was really dumb. I'll be better. I love you," he dropped another kiss to your forehead and pulled you closer still, reveling in the feeling of the palm of your hand rubbing circles into the skin below his collarbone. It was something you would do often when he would escalate, your way of grounding him, tethering him back to earth--to you. This time, though, he knew it was for you. He heard you sniff and felt you pull him closer, and couldn't fight the way his lips turned up a bit.

"You scared me," you whispered, barely audible against the fabric of the hospital gown.

"I know," he breathed against your hair, fingers coming up to hold the back of your head, "I'm an idiot. I love you."

His grin widened at the way you snorted at that. It had taken a long time for Katsuki to be able to admit when he was wrong, and even now, he felt some part of his subconscious grabbing at anything it could to shift the blame elsewhere, to shrink under the weight of accountability. When he met you, he told you as much-- let loose all of his venom and anger and waited for you to inevitably spin on your heels and run from him. But you stayed, a grin playing on your lips and an eyebrow cocked, waiting for him to tire himself out. You threw him over your shoulder, kicking and screaming, and hadn't let him down since. He found he quite liked it up there after all.

"I love you," you told him, fingers curling in his gown.