Supernova

Chapter Sixty One - A Stumble Down Memory Lane

The recalibration had taken. Whoop dee doo. And I don't even mean that sarcastically.

What that meant for me was that Demon and Elias were locked up in their apartment, having a week long fuck fest, irritating their neighbors instead of me, and I didn't have to worry about whether they'd suddenly appear as swift and hauntingly as a phantom around the corner of the dorm room common space, onto the screen of my secret cell phone, or in some room I'd walk into and flick the lights on in. If I tried really hard, I could pretend that they had already gone back home.

It wasn't all that hard, actually. Classes and training had resumed, which once again took up a considerable amount of my time and energy, and being in love with Bakugo fucking Katsuki had consumed the rest of it. I'd run out of Demon's care package food and Devil's Coffee, so he'd silently taken it upon himself to fill that space for me. I'd leave his room in the mornings, go shower and pull my uniform on, and by the time I walked into the common space, breakfast had appeared and was handed to me. Eat, idiot, he'd tell me in a tone that was unrecognizably soft. At lunch, warmth would wrap its way around my hand, and I'd effortlessly let it guide me. I don't fucking think so, Ponytail. Fuck off, Deku. After class, when I went for runs and extra training, he just joined along with me, and on the way back we'd find a little café or restaurant and sit there for an hour or two, laughing and eating and bickering playfully and having little competitions to see who could sneakily get to the staff member or the front counter to pay the bill without the other killing them first.

"So," I started saying at one of these dinners, figuring if boyfriend and girlfriend were as intimate and he and all those movies made it seem, it was about time to ask. "If you're my boyfriend,"

"I am," he said harshly.

"Okay." I rolled my eyes. "What do you want me to call you?"

He watched me for a few seconds, his eyebrows lowering in confusion. He placed his chopsticks down and his nose crumpled a bit. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You know," I said, shrugging and rolling my eyes. I held my hand out in front of me and rolled it at the wrist a few times. "Family monarchy rules are kind of like Japanese rules. You use someone's title and last name unless you're friendly. Momo calls me Cass, Kiri calls you Kats."

"You can call me by my first name," he said, his tone softening as he broke eye contact with me and picked his chopsticks back up.

"But," I prodded. "Is that what you want?" 

"I don't really care," he lied. It made me smile.

"Can I call you Kacchan, then?" He was fighting off his own smile now.

"No," he told me from behind his clenched jaw. There was the glare, which I had come to enjoy the sight of. "And you can't call me Fireworks either."

"You know," I said as I laughed a little and leaned back in my chair. "I came up with that nickname first."

He looked up, skeptical, but he didn't say anything.

"It's true," I continued. "When I bet on you during the sports festival, I wrote Angry Firework Baby."

"You've been calling me baby for a while, huh?" He said, smirking and plenty pleased with himself.

I shrugged a bit. "I can call you baby if you want."

"Tch." He shook his head and looked away from me, but I saw the red tinting come over his cheeks, which was exactly my intention.

This was fun. I never knew being in love could be fun. Love as I had known it had been exciting, yes, and overwhelming, absolutely, but fun? Never. It had never been fun.