Marcelineeeeeeeeeeee
She wasn't supposed to matter.
Just a quiet girl in a frilly apron, soft smiles, and careful hands - the kind people overlook without thinking twice.
But somehow, she keeps ending up in his orbit.
Bakugo Katsuki doesn't do "soft."
He doesn't do "cute."
And he definitely doesn't do her.
...so why does he keep noticing the way she laughs under her breath?
Why does it bother him when others look at her a little too long?
Why does her gentle voice feel louder than explosions?
What starts as a simple arrangement - a joke, a favor, a "your my maid" kind of deal - slowly turns into something neither of them knows how to name.
Because beneath lace and teasing smiles, she's hiding more than she lets on.
And beneath anger and sparks, he's learning how to hold something without breaking it.
It's clumsy.
It's quiet.
It's full of almosts.
And somewhere between stolen glances, late nights, and soft "master" jokes that don't feel like jokes anymore...
they begin to fall.