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The rain pattered against the windows of Todoroki's apartment like a quiet song—soft, persistent, almost rhythmic. It was soothing in a way Y/N hadn't expected. She sat curled up on the couch in one of Todoroki's oversized hoodies, her legs tucked beneath her as the storm outside mirrored the mess inside her heart.
For three days, she had stayed with him. Three days since she'd walked away from Bakugo—no, let him go—and tried to forget the ache in her chest every time she thought of his face twisted in hurt and anger.
Todoroki had barely asked any questions. He simply made space. Let her have the bed while he took the couch. Made her tea when the circles under her eyes deepened. Sat beside her in silence, allowing her to exist without pressure.
And that quietness... it had been louder than she expected.
"Do you want dinner?" Todoroki's voice was soft as he peeked around the corner from the kitchen. His hair was damp from a shower, loose strands clinging to his forehead. He looked calm. Gentle. Everything she hadn't realized she needed until now.
"I'm not really hungry," Y/N murmured, pulling the hoodie sleeves over her hands.
He didn't press. Just nodded and retreated.
It wasn't like she didn't appreciate him. She did—more than words could explain. The way his mismatched eyes watched her like she was glass, fragile and worn, but still worth holding. The way he would sit next to her during a movie and pass her snacks without saying a word, letting her lead every interaction.
He didn't push. But that didn't mean he didn't care. And she was starting to see it now, in the way he lingered just a little too long at her door at night. In the way he looked at her like he wished he could be the one to fix what Bakugo broke.
But the truth was... Bakugo hadn't broken her.
She had.
She let it all happen. Let the lines blur. Let herself fall into something that was thrilling but unsustainable.
And now she had to clean it up.
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