Heartbeat

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I had so much fun writing this one, I hope you all enjoy!

And (dramatically shy finger thingy) (staring at u guys with my little beady autistic eyes) maybe check out my bots on Janitor AI and send me suggestions through the form? No pressure, haha (awkwardly leaning against expensive car) (wiggling eyebrows)

ANYWAYS


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Aizawa sits at the edge of the couch, stretching his legs out as he scans the pages of his mission report, but his eyes keep drifting away from the paper to the person beside him. You sit cross-legged, laptop balanced on your knees, deeply engrossed in whatever you're reading. A warm, calm silence hangs between you – one of those rare evenings where it's just you, Aizawa, and the stillness of the apartment.

Without thinking, he reaches over, fingers brushing against yours, and you look up, a sleepy smile spreading across your face. "Can I help you, Shota?" you tease, lacing your fingers with his.

"Just making sure you're still here," he murmurs, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, grounding himself. There's nowhere else he wanted to be.

You lean over, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "I'm here. And I'll keep reminding you if you ever forget."

For a while, you sit like that, side by side and at ease – until his phone buzzes on the table. He tenses, glancing at the screen. An urgent mission request.

He feels your hand stiffen in his, a hint of worry passing over your face. But you simply smile and nod in understanding. "Go," you whisper. "I'll be here."

"Promise?" he asks, half-joking, half-pleading.

You reach over and ruffle his hair with a grin. "Always."

But always slipped through their fingers, fading into silence. Days turned into weeks, the late-night calls stretched into endless waits. Aizawa remembers the look in your eyes as you would quietly watch him leave each time, that gentle understanding in your gaze... until it wasn't enough. The reality of their lives – the danger, the missed moments, the creeping loneliness – had quietly drawn you apart.

Now, Aizawa sits on the edge of his bed, staring at his left hand, where an engagement ring shimmers, still unfamiliar on his finger. The house around him is warm and filled with light – a home he shared with his fiancée, a quiet and kind woman who offered him everything he once thought he wanted. And yet, every now and then, he feels himself pulled back to you, a ghost in his memories he could never seem to shake.

He sighs, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts. He knows he has to focus on the life he is building here, to let go of the past.

But then, a sudden knock at the door echoes down the hallway, startling him from his thoughts.

The knock sounds again, this time more insistent. Aizawa's fiancée, Lila, glances at him with a mix of curiosity and concern. "I'll get it," she says, moving toward the door.

Aizawa opens his mouth to protest, to tell her it is probably nothing – but the words catch in his throat as she pulls the door open.

"Can I help you?" Lila asks, stepping into the doorway with a welcoming smile that falters as her gaze lands on you.

You stand there, shivering slightly from the cold, arms wrapped around yourself. Your cheeks are flushed, and your hero costume you wore is slipping down one shoulder, revealing a hint of skin. It's so familiar, yet so foreign, as if time had shifted you into another world.

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