Cardigan

One Shot.

He noticed by accident. But when he did notice, he began to worry.

Really, it was an accident. He never meant to stare at her, his eyes just found their way to her over and over again. All the fucking time. Hell if he knows why. He didn't try to notice things about her.

That being said, the first time he noticed, they were at lunch. Shitty hair and Dunce head were blabbing about something stupid that Bakugo could care less about and he was a grain of rice away from losing his patience. Really, how long could two morons hold a conversation about which order to pour your cereal? Apparently a very long time.

Maybe his subconscious picked up on this extreme disinterest because it steered his eyes to their unwilling comfort place. Uraraka Ochako's face.

Bakugo could never truly put a finger on one thing that truly drew him to her. Her strength and determination are two of them (obviously), and her quirk was full of potential, but when he looked at her, he didn't think about those things. He thought about her features, and her laugh, and her slight accent that would slip through the cracks of her sentences. He thought about how she infuriated him with the way she could make him weightless without even trying. It was an odd skill of hers, to make him take her all in and never regret a moment of it.

He decided that now would be the perfect time to self indulge and dip into the feeling that only she gave him.

He started his delicate appreciation for her features at her eyes, chocolate with flakes of gold, the sun hitting them perfectly through the lunchroom windows. It was like the world was built to compliment those eyes, her eyes. Everywhere she went, they were a beacon, wrapping their warmth around his heart with a deadly squeeze.

Almost lost in appreciation for them, he nearly missed the way they looked dimmer than usual. Less bright. Sunken back into her head, almost. A feisty pink bit at the edges of her eyelid. What the...

Frowning, he decided to move on. Maybe she hadn't gotten enough sleep? Not that he cared. But she should get in her hours if she ever wanted to progress. Again, not that he cared.

Now it was her nose. Small and perky, centering her face like a centerpiece in an exquisite dining room. If you paid close enough attention, (he didn't, really, he just noticed one time during a spar and never brought himself to forget) she had small freckles dotting the smooth skin that stretched across her bridge, firming constellations on her cheeks and nose.

Upon further inspection, he frowned. The tip of her nose was red and irritated. Puffy, almost. Allergies? No, it was gonna be winter soon, she didn't get allergies around then, only in the spring. Of course, he only knew that because she wouldn't stop sniffling in the spring. Not because he paid attention to her well-being.

Racking his brain for a reason as to why her facial features would be so grossly irritated, he scowled. If it wasn't allergies, what was it? An allergic reaction? To what? She had no allergies that he knew of. Maybe she was sick? But she's almost outdone everyone in the physicals for hero training today... no sick person could accomplish that.

Wait... had she... been crying?

The realization hits him like a truck as he involuntarily drops his fork to his tray with a 'clang!'.

Kirishima, who had previously been engrossed in the world's shittiest conversation, slightly jumped in a startle. "Whoa, dude, what's wrong?" He began, his eyebrows pulled together in concern.

Bakugo's eyes flashed to the boy in front of him, speechlessness overtaking him at one of the worst moments of his life. Crying? Angel Face? Why?

Sero piped up as well. "Yeah, you've been spaced out for the better part of ten minutes." Bakugo snapped his shocked stare at him as well.