#wanted to sit on the pc today but snøfle is In A Mood due to the guests tjats been here

[alienaiver]

"i thought you promised me you'd stop."

you don't mean to sound as angry as you do, nor as accusatory. it's merely a statement. aizawa isn't phased by the harsh sentence, though. he knows you.

he looks up from his laptop, stopping his hands from massaging the part between scalp and neck. he looks like a deer caught in the headlights - or more accurately to him, a cat caught at a crossroad. you can't figure out if he'll try to sneak away before explaining himself. both of you know that you're not going to let him.

you sigh and slump further against the doorframe, lifting a hand to your face. what are you going to do with him? he rolls away from the desk to face you properly, "i was... but it changed..."

you know what he means. it always changes. he promised he'd quit after raising a new generation of heroes; that he just wanted to follow his class to the door as an active pro hero. that he'd become a full-time teacher and retire from being a pro hero when his last class graduated - which they did, two years ago.

and yet, aizawa's filing a report after his afternoon patrol. he'd barely been able to eat dinner, his body not able to stomach much with all the stress and medication it's being put under.

for someone who hates medication, he sure is willing to take a lot in order to overcompensate at an already oversaturated jobmarket.

the stout and strong man you fell in love with has dwindled. he argues that he hasn't diminished nearly as much as all might, and you remind him that it's not a competition. that dealing with chronic pain and then losing a leg and an eye is cause for concern for anyone; his plate is full.

but then, a prodigy came around. one you love and has taken in as your own as well, supporting them both. and although aizawa's argument is always that he does it for the kid, said kid has begged him to retire since his second year in high school.

you sigh and let your arms fall and walk over to him, defeated. you stand in front of his desk chair, in front of him, and look into his eye before you start to run your hands through his hair. you're silent together for a moment.

"i'd like to grow old together."

he hums and leans into your touch, arms reaching out towards you, holding onto the sides of your thighs.

"me too."

a chuckle turns into a sigh for you before you give him a stern look. you understand him; this is his dream after all. this is everything he worked towards. the challenges he faces on a day to day basis are tough; but so is he.

you hold onto his face with your hands, your thumbs dragging over his cheeks, "can you take fewer shifts at least?"

he considers for a moment before his arms travel up to join yours, "i'll try."

try.

that is all you can ask of him, really. and you won't try for more; after all, this is also a part of him you fell in love with. this is also a part you chose to live with when you accepted the ring on your finger. he pulls gently at your hand to kiss said ring while maintaining eye contact and you huff out a breath before you smile.

"i'll hound you about this in another six month's time." you warn and he laughs, low and scratchy, before he nods, "and i'll be there to listen."