My Hero Academia Imagines

A Confession (Todoroki Shouto)

Todoroki Shouto:

"(Name), do you have a moment?" Todoroki asked, his voice appearing out of nowhere. You blinked and nodded, getting up from your lunch table and following the multicolor haired boy to an enclosed area.

"What's up Shouto?" You asked, leaning against a wall, Todoroki joining you near your side. His breathing seemed strange, as it picked up when his hand accidentally brushed against yours.

"How long have we known each other now, (Name)?" He prompted you, his voice holding that familiar somewhat monotone way of speaking.

"Umm?" You thought it over a minute, trying to remember the exact years. You had known him nearly all your life, you being the only child he was allowed to play with and spend time with as a friend during his terrible childhood.

Enji had originally intended for his son to simply use you as a tool to better Shouto's progression, but somewhere along the way Enji uncharacteristically seemed to drop that and allow his son to hang out with his best friend whenever Shouto was given free time. Very out of character for Endeavor, but one Shouto didn't try to think too much on.

"Almost 12 years right? We were four when we started having playdates, right?" You finally answered back, snapping your fingers from finding the correct answer to his question.

"We've know each other for a long time then, I knew you before I even got my quirk." Todoroki mumbled, raising his right hand slowly staring at his hand in thought. "So it's not easy to say this... as I fear what you might do in response..."

You stiffened at his words as they seemed so lost and hopeless, an emotional display that you had not seen from him in ages. Was he feeling okay?

"Shouto? Are you alright?" You asked, grabbing his held up hand and pressing it against both your palms. Your hands felt warm, but everything about you was warm to him.

"Yes. I'm fine, just nervous about telling you what's on my mind."

"You can tell me anything, you're my best friend." You smiled softly squeezing your connected hands.

"That's part of the issue though." He began. "I don't want to just be your best friend any longer."

You tilted your head, not understanding his cryptic response. Your (eye color) orbs met his blue one as well as his silver one. Your heartbeat a tiny bit faster at this, your cheeks feeling a new warmth as well.

Todoroki looked so handsome staring at you the way he currently was. The way his hair was tousled the part dividing his hair in an exact way that looked to have been cut by a surgeon. His eyes different, yet holding the same look of dedication that they always held, but only recently softening up.

He looked at you though in a foreign way, one you had never received before or at least not seen. Truthfully, Todoroki had been giving you this devoted pining look a lot lately since he came to realize his feelings, but it was only known he had come to build up the courage to tell you.

"What do you mean by that?" You inquired, glancing away in doubt. His words didn't feel like he no longer wanted to be friends, but what else could it mean?

He sighed, using his free hand to gently stroke your cheek, his voice humming as he did so. You glanced back up at him and kept your eyes locked with his, your heart pounding against your ribcage, wanting to burst out by the second.

"I think I might be in love with you. Therefore only being your friend no longer holds the meaning or the relationship I desire of you. However... I don't wish to lose you if you don't return my feelings..."

He trailed off, sighing. He closed his unique hues, his pale eyelids hiding away the enchanting beauties you loved. You nodded, his hand moving with the movement. He glanced back at you, his heart hitching when a smile but growing smile was met.

"Shouto... you have nothing to worry about, you won't ever lose me."

He chuckled dryly, knowing what you meant. He leaned in pressing you into his hold and breathing in your scent. A scent of comforting nostalgia from his childhood and the scent of the person who he had given his heart to.

As well as the scent belonging to the person who gave him their's in return.