𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐬 || S. Todoroki x Reader

40 - Breaking Point

He often thought of the future. 

Ever since meeting you, that is. What would happen after your graduation, if you would look all happy and starry-eyed for what was to come. If you would be surrounded by your friends, bouncing with life and the prospect of hero work and successful careers. In a perfect world, he saw it clearly. 

He saw himself there beside you, watching as you danced and laughed with your friends. In a dress he'd picked, that made you look ethereal and unreal. You'd dance and drink until the sun rose, then stumble home in each other's arms, intoxicated and bubbly.

He saw himself offering a ring that shone like your eyes. And then he could introduce you as his wife. He could come to bed with you in the night, and wake up to you the morning. A cycle he'd beg to never break.

The two of you would buy the house that your family would grow into, with a room the two of you filled with love and light. It would be beautiful, and lush, and green, and perfect. With a pretty yard, and big windows. 

The two of you would be happy. 

You two could come home at the end of the day, bodies sore and tired. You'd go to that soba show you found that one night by accident. The show owners would get used to your faces every year on your anniversary.

And then a stick with a few lines would change everything. Your stomach would start to swell and the two of you would cry at the sound of a heartbeat. He'd make sure you were content at all hours of the day, go out to get ice cream and pickles in the middle of the night. He'd hold you as you cried on the floor over the matching little socks Momo had given as a baby shower gift. And then he would see his first child, and he would fall in love all over again.

And then again, except instead of a single heartbeat there would be two.

Little children with red and white hair zipping around the house, screaming and giggling when it was bath time. One of them would have your eyes, and their attitude would be as fiery as their crimson hair. The other would have the quiet, reserved nature of their father, hiding the power they had behind quiet looks. 

They would all have your smile, and he'd realize just how much love he carried in his heart.

He could be the father he deserved. You could be the mother you never had. You'd watch each other grow. You'd fight. You'd make love. You'd weep. You'd laugh. Your vines would grow together until they formed their own tree.

Yes, he often thought of the future. Late at night, when the rest of the world was quiet and he could save the possibility like sweet air. Every time you laughed, pressed your forehead against his, he could see it. He could feel it, smell that sweet grass in the spring around your front doorstep. It pushed him forward when the only thing he wanted to was crawl into a ball and disappear.

It made his heart sink when he heard the fight only a kilometer away, on the other side of the rubble.

***

Your body felt electric, live and hot like an exposed wire. 

Something rippled through the air, a static untamed energy almost seeping down from the overcast clouds. 

Or perhaps that was just you. 

Dabi was still on the ground, a knee scraping the concrete and he cradled an arm. The arm you'd sliced open with one of your feathers. His shoulders shook and fell in a ragged, irregular pace. Ire shot through your veins faster than adrenaline and you doubled back, quicker than the speed of light and crueler than most of the villains surrounding the crumbling city.