"𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬?" - 𝐊. 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨
𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨: This story is Slowburn, follows a couple of months after the epilogue and is accurate/realistic.
WARNING: My writing style is very detailed, so if you aren't into d...
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-2nd person pov-
December 27th, Thursday - 2:31 pm
By the time you finally clocked out of your shift at the café, it was just past two in the afternoon.
The walk home felt longer than usual.
Not because you were tired—though you were—but because your mind refused to settle on anything except what tonight might turn into.
You'd checked your phone more times than you wanted to admit, the screen lighting up and going dark again in your hand.
No new messages. Part of you expected one from Bakugo—something casual, something about plans—but nothing ever came.
And instead of feeling relieved, it only made your nerves worse. The fake date plan kept replaying in your head, every possible outcome stacking on top of the last.
What if it was awkward?
What if I messed it up?
The thought of being the first to text, of making it obvious how nervous you were, made your chest tighten.
So you didn't. You told yourself it was fine. That silence didn't mean anything.
Every step up the stairs to your apartment only made the knot in your stomach tighten a little more.
The moment you unlocked your door and stepped inside, a familiar blur of fur came skittering toward you.
"Michi," you sighed, your shoulders relaxing the second you saw her.
Your cat greeted you with a lazy meow, tail flicking as she circled your legs like she hadn't seen you in years instead of hours.
You dropped your bag and crouched just enough to scoop her up, burying your face briefly in her soft fur.
"I'm nervous, Michi," you admitted quietly, rocking her slightly in your arms.
She blinked at you, unimpressed.
"You wouldn't be nervous too?" you asked, pulling back just enough to look at her face.
Michi's ears flicked once. That was it.
You laughed under your breath, setting her back down as she immediately trotted off to inspect the apartment like she hadn't just been glued to your side.
Kicking off your shoes by the door, you let out a long breath you didn't realize you'd been holding.
With a small flick of your fingers, your keys lifted from your palm, floating effortlessly toward the hook on the wall where they settled with a soft clink.
