Like Colors (A Certain MHA Character x Reader)

Chapter Five

Warnings: cursing, just a lil bit of angst (I'm not sorry)

Word count: 848 🥶

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"Here's a towel and some clothes," Eiji called out. I caught the items as he threw them, shooting him a grateful smile.

"Thanks. And thanks for letting me stay over, too."

"Of course. You're my best friend." He tilted his head. "But you steal my food all the time. How come you never ask for that?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Because... you love me and would never say no?"

He laughed. "Go shower."

I did just that-- after I got out, I changed into his big-ass t-shirt and loose gym shorts. It was definitely... clothing. All I needed was the crocs and I'd be the spitting image of Kiri. Sort of.

"How many Crimson Riot shirts do you have?" I sighed, tugging on the fabric. He grinned.

"Only thirteen. And hey, you have like, a billion Miruko things, so."

"Hey, that's different. She's hot."

Kirishima sighed, grabbing a pillow from his bed and tossing into onto the floor, where he'd constructed a little sleeping pad. His parents didn't want us sleeping in the same bed, but for whatever reason they were fine with us sleeping in the same room. They were trying to pretend they didn't want us to end up together, I guess.

Plus, it's not like we saw each other that way. Eijirou was my best friend, and had been forever. Even if I did have feelings for him, I wouldn't want anything to come between our friendship.

"Hey, you seemed off earlier. Is... did I do something?"

His eyes widened for a moment, as if he hadn't expected me to notice, then he shook his head furiously. "No, it's nothing, don't worry about it."

I frowned. "Hey, talk to me. Trust me, brushing it off will just make it-"

"It's nothing," he repeated, his voice firm. I crossed my arms.

"I don't ever want to force you to do anything, you know that. But if I'm doing something that makes you mad, I want you to just tell me, okay? We're not such good friends because we avoid confrontation. You're my best friend because I can always trust you to talk to me."

There was a moment of silence, and the world stilled around us. I heard his breath catch in his throat, the chirping of the late birds pause, and the low hum of the night fading out.

"I'm sorry."

His voice was barely a whisper, but I heard it. He cast his eyes out the window, looking at nothing in particular, then brought them back up to me.

"You're right. I just... every time you have a crush on some guy, you get so invested and just- just..."

"What? Forget about you?" It came out harsher than I meant.

He shrugged. "I guess."

I felt a pang in my chest. "Eijirou, are you serious?"

He sat down on his bed, and I sat carefully next to him. He looked strangely helpless, or perhaps hopeless, and the moonlight dragged its comforting curves across his face.

I'd never thought about it that way before. I guess I hadn't really ever heard him talk about a crush before, even if he had them. I let out an exhale, not even realizing I'd been holding my breath.

"Don't look so depressed," he said.

I glanced up at him and almost laughed— he was smiling, but looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry I've... made it seem that way," I began. "But I never forget about you. You're the closest thing I have to family besides my dad, and I guess I just... take that for granted sometimes."

He sighed, but smiled again. "I'm being a pick me boy right now, aren't I?"

Unable to stop myself, I burst out laughing. "I mean, kind of." He laughed with me.

"So you like Bakugou, then?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. He's interesting, but I think I prefer my best friend."

Eijirou made a face and a loud crash sounded as I hit the floor, gasping.

"That was uncalled for!" I hissed, rubbing my arm.

"You said that like you're in love with me or something." He made another face, purposely dramatic with it.

"Aw, of course I am." I made a kissing noise and batted my eyelashes. Laughing, he threw a pillow at me.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hey, you take the bed." He took my hand and pulled me to my feet, and we traded places. He always said that the floor didn't bother him, and if it did he could just harden— then I'd make a dirty joke, then he would lecture me.

I settled under the covers, the faint scent of what I'd bet money to be Axe body spray filling my senses. It could be left over from middle school— I could guarantee he hasn't washed his sheets since then.

I heard his voice as my eyes started to close.

"Love you."

"Love you too, crocs."

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A/N: very very very short chapter but here 😫🤟 been very busy but I'm still here I swear 🙏