Emote: Bakugo x OC Reader

Chapter 38 - Confession

Bakugo's POV

When I came back into the emo chick's room, she was peering over the side of the bed at the tray sitting on the floor.

"Oooooo, you just keep bringing me more and more goodies. This really is a dream," She sounded sleepy and her face was soft and unguarded, nothing like how she's been over the past week.

She was still lying on her side with her head resting in the crook of her arm. She was now fully out from under the sheets and my eyes instinctively scanned over her body, not accustomed to seeing so much of her skin. Embarrassed at how brazenly I just looked at her, I focused my attention on her face, although I couldn't help but note the gentle curves accentuated by her tiny waist.

"Why do you think this is a dream?" I asked as I sat back down on the edge of the bed.

"Because you're being so nice to me," she replied and I scoffed in response.

"Lie back," I said, gently pressing down on her shoulder so that she was lying down with her head on the pillow. 

Unexpectedly, she reached up and held my hand in hers. Closing her eyes, she whispered, "So hot."

"Wh-what?" I felt myself blushing again and cursed myself for being this damn weak around her.

"Your hand," she said, opening her eyes. "It's so warm."

There was a tension within me I hadn't noticed before now start to thaw as she looked at me. "Well yeah, it's kind of a given because of my quirk, ya idiot," My voice came out soft and foreign as I spoke the words.

She rewarded me with a smile as I placed the cool washcloth on her forehead. "You're an idiot. Why are you so mean to me around everyone else but once we're alone you're different?"

I considered this before responding. Am I different when it's just the two of us? I suppose I might be a little less harsh but when we're in a group I can't have the others thinking that I'm going soft. And being alone with her certainly doesn't stop me from being honest, which others tend to take as 'me being an asshole.'

Her hand squeezed mine and it wasn't until that moment that I realized we were still holding hands. My fingers had subconsciously wrapped around hers. My immediate reaction was to want to pull away but I couldn't deny how good it felt, having her soft, warm hand wrapped around mine. 

"Because you're different," I found myself saying. And I hope you don't remember any of this. I thought.

The intensity of her eyes made me look away. I took the opportunity to scan the room, which was overall fairly neat aside from some clothes scattered on the floor. A small bookcase sat along one wall and was overflowing with a combination of fiction and manga. There was a dresser with an attached mirror on the opposite wall and upon further inspection I noticed a picture stuck into the frame of the mirror. It looked like a Polaroid picture with two people filling up most of the frame. The curtain hanging over the emo chick's window limited the light filtering through into the room and I leaned forward to look closer.

It was that fucking zombie boy, the dark circles prominent under his lavender eyes. Her arm was wrapped around his neck and their faces were pressed against each other. Nakano's eyes were alight with humor, a smile stretched across her face. His lips were slightly turned up in a smile in what seemed to be an attempt to appease her.

I felt an all consuming anger wash over me and without realizing it, I emitted a spark from the hand I forgot was holding Nakano's. She yelped, pulling away as though she had just brushed against a hot stove.

"Shit!" I hissed, standing up from the bed. I hadn't realized how much my palms must have been sweating.

"What are you doing?" She asked as I began pacing back and forth across the room, my fists clenched at my sides.