Cold Embraces - DabiHawks

Around the Fur

"I don't wanna get dressed up anyway"

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Dabi used to love running around, he was a happy kid, always a free spirit. Once he turned five years old, he was more than excited about his quirk. When he grew up, he began resenting his quirk. Or more accurately, he began resenting himself. For being weak. For burning himself with every lick of agonizingly hot fire that touched his skin. When he grew up even more, he resented his father. For ignoring him. For tossing him aside without a second thought, all because of Shoto. He resented Shoto.

He resents Shoto. For being the special one, for being the one to steal his father's attention. For being strong, for whatever reason. For being blessed with being born as someone who Enji Todoroki acknowledged.

Maybe, he was looking for someone other than himself to hate.

Keigo couldn't tell if he was angry at himself for never helping Touts, or angry at Touya for leaving. Maybe he was mad at the world, Endeavor, something that he could blame for making Touya change.

But the earth won't cease it's rotation, and the lull of time will never again beckon the same. And fate is a cruel, unpredictable, and unbiased mistress.

In the end, all he could do was bite down his rage, his fear, his wounds, and be left with a sinking ball hanging in his gut that made him sick to his very core.

"...What time is it?"

"3 o'5"

"Dammit."

Hawks sluggishly stood up from his bed, walking to his bathroom and shutting the door with a limp arm.

Dabi stood there for a while, before sitting down on the now empty bed, laying down and staring up at the ceiling, like he had nothing better to do. Like, get up. Leave, maybe. Head off to the LOV before Twice decides he's gone missing and has a meltdown (immediately followed by expressing how happy he is.) Or maybe, be a nice, considerate guy and cook breakfast or something.

"Yeah, as if. Get cooking, master chef." Dabi remarked to himself, knowing if he tried cooking anything beyond an egg he'd get stopped midway by a fire alarm.

Maybe takeout.

Dabi sat quietly for a second, contemplating.

"Nah."

/

Hawks stared at himself in the mirror for a while. He wasn't sure what he was even looking at in particular, maybe at his tired eyes. Or his tired expression. Or his tired-looking hair. Did he mention he was tired? Maybe he could call in sick. Make a few fake coughing sounds on the phone for pity points. Or just make Dabi dry heave into the phone for five bucks, keep them assuming he's about to fucking die on a Thursday morning if he can't take the day off.

Yeah, he's gonna call in sick.

He trudged out of the bathroom, ignoring how Dabi was sprawled across his bed and simply placed the phone near him.

"Can you cough for me"

"???"

"Like... Convincing. Like I'm super sick and really need a day off..."

Dabi blinked, before giving a half assed, obviously fake cough that sounded more like he just spit at Hawks.

"Seriously?"

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