Rescue // Shoto Todoroki x OC Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-One

After eating about half of the small container of food, Katsumi set it down and fell asleep on the couch. When he saw this, Shoto headed back to her room and returned with a pillow and blanket for her, which he carefully laid down and moved her onto. He made sure her feet were covered with the blanket as he covered her carefully, not wanting to wake her. After that, he packed up the rest of the food and headed over to the fridge to put the leftovers away. 

Upon opening the fridge, he was met with a harmony of rotten smells from the various things inside. He then started to clean out the fridge, bagging up all of the spoiled vegetables and meats for disposal. He knew that it had been a while since she'd been back here, so it was bound to happen, and he was glad to be able to do something to help her make her recovery easier. 

After cleaning out the fridge and putting the leftovers away, he took to cleaning a few other parts of her apartment that needed it while Katsumi slept. He was thankful for the silence as he cleaned, knowing she'd have something snarky to say about him doing this if she were awake. But he really didn't mind helping out. 

While he cleaned, he couldn't help but wonder if this was what it was like to have a partner. While she slept on the couch and he cleaned, he felt slightly at peace, knowing she was there in the apartment too. Whenever he went home, he never liked how empty and alone he felt there. It was always cold and quiet aside from his own sounds and movements, and he didn't care for it. Part of him wished that he had someone who would be there when he got home from missions. Someone who would eat takeout on the sofa with him, or just be in the house while he cleaned. 

Of course, he knew that Katsumi would never be that person. She detested him, and he knew it. He'd been surprised thus far that she'd been receptive to accepting his help at all. Perhaps it was because she knew he felt guilty for what had happened, but there was no way to know the true reasons why she hadn't kicked him out yet. 

Once everything was tidy, he returned to the couch, where he sat down near her head. She looked peaceful while she slept, her face finally relaxing from the scowl she liked to wear whenever she was around him. He wondered if she ever tired from being so combative toward him. After everything that happened, he couldn't find it in himself to engage in banter with her anymore. Now that he thought about it, he really couldn't recall why they hadn't gotten along in the first place. 

They were similar people when it really came down to it. They had similar convictions, and from the short conversation they had about their families before he let her go into the warehouse, it seemed like they had similar upbringings. And he knew she was just a naturally combative person. Shoto hoped that this was the only cause of her disdain toward him and that it wasn't anything greater than that. 

As he watched her sleep, Katsumi started to fuss a bit, and her breathing picked up. Her face contorted into a grimace as she slept, and Shoto worried that she was having a nightmare. He didn't want to wake her, but he was unsure of what to do, so he reached out and lightly stroked her cheek, hoping that the touch might calm her down. 

He liked how soft her skin was beneath his fingers, though he'd never admit that out loud. 

He ran his thumb across her cheekbone, tracing the edges of her face. He then ran his fingers across her eyebrow, then her nose, and finally, he gently caressed her lip with his thumb, making sure not to touch her hard enough to wake her. It seemed to do the trick though, and after a little bit, her breathing stilled, and her face relaxed again. 

Then, before Shoto really knew what he was doing, he bent down and brought his face close to hers, skating his lips across her forehead after brushing her hair out of the way. He closed his eyes as he did, relishing in how soft her skin felt against his lips. 

When he opened his eyes, his stomach immediately dropped into the depths of hell when he saw a pair of eyes staring back at him. He froze, just inches from her face, while she came to. 

"Oh shit, hi," she breathed. She blinked hard a few times, and Shoto finally moved away, turning away from her completely as she sat up, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. His ears felt warm, and he was feeling more embarrassed than he ever had in his entire life. 

She'd caught him. She'd caught him kissing her forehead. He put his hand over his mouth, waiting for whatever remark she was most definitely about to make. 

But he was more confused when she didn't say anything. Instead, she got up and slowly made her way across the living room and down the hall to the bathroom. He didn't let out the breath he was holding until he heard the door close behind her. 

He tried to conjure up the answer as to why he'd done that. 

They'd never been particularly close. He was only looking out for her because she refused to do it for herself. He was sure that she didn't even count him as a friend. Yet, he'd touched her face like that while she slept, and he'd kissed her forehead. He blushed even harder when he thought about it. 

He would have preferred it if she'd made a rude remark about it, but it scared him more that she hadn't said anything. He just wanted to know what she was thinking. His stomach was in knots, and he considered leaving her apartment altogether to avoid having to talk about that. He didn't even know what he'd say if she asked, because he didn't know why he'd done it to begin with.  

* * * 

Katsumi slid down the bathroom door, her head completely stuck in the clouds. She placed her fingers on her forehead in the spot where his lips had touched her. Her face was completely flushed, and she wasn't sure what to think. 

He'd kissed her. On the forehead, but still. He'd kissed her. 

She buried her face in her hands as her mind started to conjure up a whole plethora of unholy thoughts, like what it would have felt like if he'd kissed her on the lips instead... 

And his hands, his goddamn hands... 

Jesus Christ, she needed to get a handle on herself. There was no reason to make more out of this than it was. Still, she didn't know why he'd done that. It was clear he cared for her in some capacity, but not like that...

And yes--she'd thought about him like that before. Of course, she had. 

Her mind went back to the nights they'd spent on patrol with each other, tailing that guy. The first night, when they'd slept in the same bed. She wondered if it was as awkward for him as it had been for her. 

Then, there was the second night, when he'd pinned her against the wall...

She'd known he had only been making a point about her drunkenness, but still. She remembered how turned on it had made her feel. Just thinking about it now as she sat on the bathroom floor made her turn bright red. 

She tried to rub the blush from her cheeks, and she took a few deep breaths. She was making a bigger deal out of this than it was. She knew that. 

Yet, she was going to have to leave the bathroom at some point, and he was likely still sitting out there, waiting. What would he say? Would he say anything at all? Why was she freaking out so much?