todoroki touya (dabi) x reader “[3:07 a.m.]”
warnings: swearing, angst with no happy ending (i think?? m not sure 🫠) this is like a. vent, ig, haha. also probably shitty cus it's stupid and unedited and like. three in the morning.
[3:07 a.m.]
when dabi finally slips into your room, reeking of burnt flesh and ash and ruin, you’re already fast asleep,
(the shape of you heart-wrenchingly small under the thick covers, as if you were trying to protect yourself from- his heart clenches. from him.)
but that’s just as well, or so dabi thinks. the hour is ungodly, and he comes home late - later than late, actually, late enough that it’s early. late enough that you probably thought he wasn’t coming home at all, and who could blame you?
dabi is a man that commits arson and felonies on tuesday evenings and grins at the rising smoke and flames. he’s a man that burns to the touch, if he lets you in close enough - an icarus with melting wax wings, forever falling under the sun because some shitty feathers and a twisted ambition isn’t enough to keep him from burning.
but the thing with you is that you don’t mind the smoke or the ash - even if it means you’ll burn from tending to fire.
because you’re selfless and kind like that - you’ve always been, you with your soft healing hands gentle upon his skin (as if you think he’s actually a thing worthy of such redeeming softness, like he’s actually, really good) and your tender, open smiles and your stupid endless patience that never seems to run out even when he doesn’t come home for days, and when he finally does come, it’s to end up shitfaced and bleeding all over your couch, stealing the change on your counter or running hot when you beg him to stay, and -
dabi doesn’t deserve you, not when he hurts you as much as he loves you. but love has made him selfish - if not a little cruel.
but tonight, he promises, is the last.
the moonlight makes soft of your peaceful, sleeping face, and you’re so achingly beautiful like this, no furrow to your brow or wobbling curve of your mouth.
mindlessly, one of his hands drifts up to trace over the plump of your cheek, the bridge of your nose and then your jaw, stroking softly.
his breath trembles.
there are shadows under your eyes, dried tears on your cheeks. all because of him. what else does he need to see to know that this is what he does to you? that this is why he needs to leave?
for a world-muffling second, there is only the slow rise and fall of your chest, the soft lull of your breathing. the cadence of your heartbeat slow and sleepy as it beats against his own chest, thump thump thumping with your every breath.
and dabi lets his hand fall away, makes to stand up. he loves you, but you’re better off without him. this is for your own good, this is for his own good–
your eyes blink open in the darkness, tired and dark and mournful as you peer up at him through the shadows, your pinkie slowly, unflinchingly curling around his.
“stay,” you murmur, and he can hear the hoarse exhaustion in your voice.
“stay. please.” you whisper again, and dabi doesn’t have the heart to say no.
he slips back under the covers, lets you grip his hand tightly like you’re afraid he’ll disappear again, because it’s not entirely false. kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your fluttering eyelids. your trembling mouth.
“i love you, dabi.” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut again.
“love you too.” he tells you, guiltily waiting for when you’ll fall asleep again.
FIN-
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