"Even if it hurts,

Even if it makes me bleed.

I'm gonna carry you, pushing through

With the dirt on my sleeves..."

Well. This certainly hadn't been how she'd expected to be spending her Sunday. Not even close.

Granted, with a significant other like Dabi, predictable was so far out of the cards, it could've easily existed in another galaxy, given the distance. Like she seemingly had, once before. Not that surprises were a bad thing, just...being with him, she'd been subject to far more of them than she could've ever been prepared for.

And she was still learning that it was okay to enjoy the ride.

Her morning had started, like usual: wake up around 10:00 a.m or so, but spend another few minutes just lounging around half-conscious under the bedcovers. It was Sunday, the lone day of true freedom before the work week started up again. Being that she couldn't always guarantee a full night's sleep – thanks to anxiety-induced insomnia, which she was no longer medicated for – she would take whatever extras she could get.

However, just as her eyelids had begun to droop once more, the whispered siren's song of sleepy lullabies calling her name...she'd heard the sound of thudding, making its way up from the fire escape outside. And then, the heavy shuffling and tapping had followed, of which she knew all too well.

With her heart skipping in her chest, she'd already been throwing off the blankets and stumbling to her feet before her eyes had fully opened again. This resulted in her nearly crashing into the door. Curse the occasional blood rush she experienced upon standing!

Swinging it open, her hurried footsteps had pattered down the hall. Through the living area, and into the kitchen. The sight that greeted her tired, but more alert visage, was one that she'd never get used to, though it certainly wasn't unwelcome.

The sink was the first thing facing her upon arrival, with a screen window and folding glass panes. It overlooked the emergency stairway outside. This had become his official entryway into the apartment on a regular basis, since someone like him constantly showing up on her doorstep would eventually attract attention. Labelled officially a villain by both the heroes and media tended to cause that reaction.

So, she'd gone through the trouble of permanently altering it to specifications. Aside from always making sure the dishes were done, she'd pulled out the four lowest panes, and cut the screen from the bottom up, so it could be lifted easily, like a curtain.

Which was why, there was now a grown man staring straight back at her, one boot-clad foot in said sink, with half of his lanky body through the opening, leaning on his lifted right knee. His hands were gripping at the frame, top and side edges. The young woman couldn't help it; a faint smile tugged at her lips, seeing him in the same awkward position yet again. Though, if she'd had her way, he wouldn't have had to hide his presence. But, it was his own personal choice, to take these extra precautions.

He wouldn't acknowledge it openly, but...it wasn't only for his benefit that he did this. It was to protect her as well – his safe home, a lone shelter from the storm. A figurative lighthouse, guiding him, weary and bleary back to shore. If anyone were to find out that she was willingly harboring a criminal – no matter her personal feelings on the matter – it would be game over for both of them. Villain or hero, it made no difference. And like hell he was going to let any of those pigs get to her.

Once, he'd entertained the thought, of her possibly becoming like him. Becoming a hardened villain, taking on the hero society one body at a time. Leaving nothing but destruction and bitter lessons in their wake. Even without standout powers, she could've found some sort of use to his plans, in that way.

However, the more time they'd spent together...the more he'd realized, that sort of life just wasn't meant for someone like her. She wasn't a hero, certainly – no, she was purer than any one of those pompous blowhards could ever claim to be. And, despite who he was, it meant something to him. He wasn't interested in corrupting her.

Influencing her, sure. Getting her to defy her limits, placed upon her by she herself, due to a lousy upbringing and inner mental conflict. Teaching her not to care about standards; to stop judging herself for things that made no sense, that were out of her control, or that shouldn't have even mattered to begin with. But dragging her fully down his path? For whatever reason, he couldn't do it.

She'd given up everything, just to reach him out here. Had given up her entire past life, and traveled how far, to fabricate a new life in his tumultuous world, and provide him a cover story. Him, it was all for him. And she asked for nothing in return, other than his safety and happiness. He wasn't about to lose the one good thing in his life, just for a slip up on his end, or to fulfill some sort of personal agenda.

Besides...there were far more fun ways to be wicked, that he could share in with her. Ways that they both benefitted from, quite nicely.

"Yo." He'd finally made it inside, standing on the wooden floor and straightening out his clothing. Long coat, loose shirt, dark pants. Briefly, she wondered if he needed laundry taken care of again. He really didn't have anything to wear, save for the one outfit. Depending on what sort of 'business' he'd gotten into recently, wash days could happen sooner rather than later. At least she'd learned how to handle the chore on her own time, before adding his wardrobe into the mix. Then she didn't have to worry about unintentionally wrecking his outerwear.

Being on her own, entirely independent, in a region she'd only had the basest contact with before...had certainly opened her eyes. But, moving on and growing up had to happen some day. And love was more than an appropriate enough reason why.

Walking over, she stopped in front of him, taking in his lean figure, standing slightly above her own. There was only a three inch difference between them – out here, she was somewhat tall for a woman, even while being mixed. However, that didn't stop her from feeling so much smaller in his presence...in a good way. She felt defended, though part of that too, had to do with his general aura.

It wasn't like he still didn't tease her anyway, though. Ruffling her hair, poking at her forehead – yes, it was wide, no need to point it out – or even just picking her up out of nowhere. She would always protest, not wanting him to hurt himself...and that would only stoke the flames further. But she was serious – she couldn't help it, she felt so awkward and out of place in her own body! Non-existent self-esteem from a rough past tended to cause that sort of perception. He, apparently, didn't agree.

"Here – let me help." Just like a mother, she was now reaching out, to tug upwards on the high collar of his coat, and smooth down the front. He smirked at her actions; it was a common gesture for her to partake in.

He remembered the story she'd told him, before first coming here; how her own mom used to do the same with her, every time she wore one of her jackets she'd unofficially 'stolen' while they'd been living together. It was a gesture that had stuck with her for years, in particular after the woman's unexpected passing. That had happened well before Dabi had met his companion, however.

'Just like a mother'. A concept that was so foreign to him, despite his own still being alive.

Now finished with her adjustments, she was looking up at him, a bit reserved through her bangs, at an angle. Eye contact was something she was still working on, though she did make a noticeable effort with him. Mainly, it was due to her anxious tendencies, but in his case, she had admitted...sometimes, his gaze was too much for her to handle.

Not that he was scary – which would've been his honest first thought, hearing something like that. No, because he was "too beautiful. If I look for too long...I might not be able to stop. And...I don't wanna be rude. It's not nice to stare."

He could just as easily argue the same about her own eyes; she had a love-hate relationship with them, not really being able to truly determine their color. Most of the time, she just went with green.

Personally, he found it interesting how they seemed to change, depending on various factors. She'd told him once, that a former teacher had described them as 'chameleon eyes' – they adapted based on things like what she was wearing, surrounded by, or looking at.

To him, they reminded him of an ocean. So many thoughts and feelings rolling among the currents. She tried, but ultimately failed, at hiding her emotions. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and was honest to a fault. He could read her like a book.

Yet, somehow...she still managed to catch him off-guard. She was familiar, but certainly not boring – no matter what she might've argued otherwise, when in one of her particularly low states. She'd kept him coming back, from the very first moment they'd met. She'd offered him her hand...

...and eventually, her heart. Truthfully, he'd been the one to fall first, and hard. But he'd made sure she knew, dragging her down like a loving predator with a favored prey. Soon enough, she'd gotten just as addicted to him as he was to her.

"Oi. Look up." His hand had reached out, to tilt her chin. This allowed the hair to fall back, away from her vision. Brushing the bangs from her face with the other, he could now see her clearly, down to the nibbling of her lips, out of nerves, and the faint pink tint to her cheeks. His smirk stretched just a bit wider.

Halting in her chewing, she let out a soft sigh. "So...did you just stop by because it's my day off?" Her own hand extended, to wrap lightly around his wrist, stretching from her chin. Her touch did not flinch or falter at the rough, scarred skin, and the thin strips of cold metal beneath her fingertips. "Or, did you need something in particular? Food, laundry...company?" He wasn't visibly injured, so that was a relief. Her eyebrows lifted slightly. "Cuddles...?" She trailed off teasingly. Though, it was gentle.

He'd never been a very 'touchy-feely' person, until he'd met her. Now that he'd discovered his comfort in such gestures, from her and her alone, he did not shy away from the activity, whenever they were together and he wanted it. When he wanted it.

She never pushed him aside or tried to stop him, either. Nor did she force herself upon him. It was a welcomed change, from the constant street violence, imposed isolation, and prior cheap one night stands.

Chuckling, Dabi finally released his hold on her, her hand dropping as well. Heading towards the small dining table in the corner against the wall, he reached up to scratch behind his head briefly. "Heh, nah. Just needed some fresh air. It's a dead day today – but I'm not complaining. I had time to spare, so I decided to swing by." In two smooth moves, he'd pulled out one of the chairs, and sat down with a stretch back.

She shook her head, walking towards the cabinets. "Oh gee, thanks. Glad I'm good for something." The snark was soft; she truly was happy having him around. Her general demeanor and aura were so pleasant. When she joked with him, it was obvious that she never meant to hurt or annoy. She really didn't need to worry so much – her intentions were crystal-clear.

As he shrugged off his coat, to drape it over the chair, his eyes followed her figure, trailing up and down, lingering every so often on certain areas. She hadn't changed yet – her dyed hair was still messy from sleep. The oversized shirt hung off her thin frame, revealing the hint of a shoulder and bra strap, as well as some ink, when she stretched slightly. Her shorts were nearly hidden under the edges, with another tattoo on the side of long legs displayed quite nicely. Body art wasn't the most common thing out here, but she wore it well. When the pieces were visible, he appreciated it. She didn't even realize how gorgeous she was to him – no matter what she did.

Even with the many, many, many scars, both physical and figurative. The fact that someone so kind could have such a sense of loathing towards themselves, yet so much care for others – himself included...it never ceased to baffle and frustrate him.

"I don't have much on hand – my funds are a bit limited. I do need to try and make a run to the market soon. If you're hungry though...um, I can give you a cup of coffee, and some toast? Not the greatest, eheh, but..." She was already bringing out a small plate and mug.

Dabi wasn't really interested in food or drink; that wasn't why he'd come here today. Yes, he'd needed the break from the base, that much was true. However, he wasn't exactly entirely free with his time on this visit. He'd needed a clean, quiet space to take care of a certain 'errand', and now that he had her, it had seemed perfectly reasonable to make the trip over.

He waved a hand dismissively, as she turned around to face him. "I'm fine. I'm not hurting for anything." Granted, he hadn't eaten a feast before arriving, but she didn't really need to know that...or that he'd been up all night, either. Huh, maybe the coffee would be good, actually. He required a steady hand, after all. "Alright, maybe just the drink."

Although she huffed softly, pouting a bit – oh, don't make that face, not when I can't reach you – she nodded, placing the plate on the counter, and heading to the microwave. Filling up the cup from the tap, she proceeded to stick it inside, and set the timer. Leaning against the cool surface, she looked back at Dabi, who was now fiddling with something at his side. Vaguely, she remembered that on occasion, he carried little pouches on his belt. Had he brought something with him?

Ah, that's right. I need a spoon. Heading towards the drawer closest to the sink, she took out the necessary utensil, and washed it off. As she finished, the timer dinged. Carefully removing the hot cup from inside, she placed it down, reaching across a few spaces for the jar of instant grinds. Dropping in a few servings – he liked his coffee strong – she stirred it slowly, counting to thirteen as she went around counterclockwise...then, thirteen clockwise. Just like always.

A faint clink from behind reached her ears, just when she was removing the spoon, placing it into the sink to be cleaned later. Before he left, anyway. Since the cup was still rather warm around the sides, she turned around, to survey her boyfriend at the table while she waited for it to cool - and nearly choked on the cry that rose up in a tangle from her throat.

Upon the wooden surface, lay a small assortment of two items. The first, appeared to be a tiny box, partially opened. The second...vaguely resembled a piercing gun?

That wasn't what had caught her so off-guard, though.

No, what had startled her was seeing her boyfriend, with a third item in hand, sharp edges positioned under a staple on his chin, tugging roughly. With a faint clink, it came off, causing a slight shift in the scarred skin. Dropping it unceremoniously upon the table, next to two others – two others? How, without her knowing? - he went to work on the last one of the four. Even from where she stood, she could make out the traces of blood trickling from the freshly opened tissue. It was also beginning to droop down from where it was usually held together.

"What are you doing?!" With a cry, coffee completely forgotten, she rushed forwards, managing to halt his actions before he could pry out another piece. Her one hand landed hard upon the tabletop, while the other was already wrapped once more around his wrist holding the remover. It was immediately clear what Dabi was up to now: he was in the process of taking out the medical staples that held his battered skin in place.

She figured she should've seen it coming, eventually. It wasn't like he could keep them in forever. Not unless he wanted more problems than just the scarring of perpetually burnt flesh. That wasn't her problem here.

Her issue was that he was going about it with all the grace of a drunken bull performing brain surgery!

Up close, the damage to the tissue was even more noticeable; some of it had definitely been torn in the process of pulling out just those three thin metal strips. Had he always been handling things this way? It was a goddamn miracle that they hadn't acted up any further, if this was his changing process!

Dabi's bright blue eyes were looking at her in bemusement, as if this were the most normal thing in the world for him to be doing. Well, it was. It had been normal for quite some time now. However, she'd never been witness to it before, so he supposed her surprise was to be expected. He hadn't been prepared for her full-on freak out, though. What, it wasn't like he didn't know what he was doing. Raising an eyebrow slightly, he finally spoke. "Can I help you...?"

Her panicked face was confusing. "You – what the heck! You're ripping them off like a band-aid!" Yeah, that was one way to describe it. He nodded slowly, reaching up to carefully remove her hand.

"I always do this. It's routine, don't worry." The blood under his mouth was now starting to reach the edge of his chin, in danger of dripping onto his clothes. He saw her eyes dart down, cheeks visibly paling as her other hand quickly shot out to gently catch it. Oh, that. Yeah, that tended to happen too. Came with the territory.

It didn't really hurt, since so many of the nerve endings had basically been incinerated away, by this point. He could barely even feel the blood, much less the edge of charred scar tissue that was gradually starting to fall forwards, since the placeholders were gone. Her hand was soft though, pressing into his chin firmly yet cautiously to keep the lifeforce from spilling over. Her expression was one of baffled consternation...

...and concern?

"This isn't okay! You – you're - " She was stumbling over her words, at long last meeting his stare with her own frantic gaze. "With the way you're going about it, how have you not gotten an infection from the extra stress?!"

He blinked, considering her words for a few seconds. Had he? Well...there was that one time...or two, or three, earlier on in his care routine. When he'd still had more sensation left in the skin. Yeah, that had been kind of gross.

Finally, he spoke. "Oh. That might've happened before. In the past. I got over it, though. So, it's okay." Really, it was. Everything had healed up about as well as could be expected, and he was none the worse for wear. It had stung, and smelled a little. It certainly hadn't looked very appealing. But that was about the extent of the experiences.

Her multi-hued eyes were nearly bulging from their sockets, at this point. She looked like she was about to scream. Uh-oh. Was...that not the right answer?

Well, whatever. He still had work to do. He'd said his piece, so that should've been good enough. "'S'cuse me." With that, he pulled her hand away, and prepared to yank out the last staple from his chin. The faintest glimmer of fresh blood on her fingers caught in the corner of his vision, as he shoved the removal device in place. He didn't seem to care about the other that continued to grip his wrist like a tender vice.

"No!" The cry halted him instantly. It was crackling, and warbled. Immediately, his stare was locked on hers. Those ocean eyes were suspiciously liquid. Not as wide as before, but he could still see the pain reflected back at him. His chest tightened. She wasn't about to cry, was she? Over this?

His girl wasn't one for being open in admitting or showing her emotions, no matter how obvious they were to begin with. Crying was something she fought to hold back, so if this was enough to upset her so strongly...well, what was he supposed to do here? It wasn't like he wanted her to be sad! And for him to be the one to have caused it – !

For a fleeting moment, part of him honestly felt like punching something – maybe a wall, a face, or possibly burning down a neighborhood. Not healthy, but he'd never claimed to be a saint. He could've cared less about what the rest of the outside world thought of him. In his eyes, she was all he needed. Her pain was his, and vice versa.

On the other hand, though...he couldn't just stop taking care of himself. That would cause its own problems, and she knew that, too. The last thing she wanted was for him to be hurt, in any fashion. It was, at times, nearly unbelievable, the depths that her compassion extended to in regards to him.

So then...what was the solution?

It took a couple of moments to compose herself. She too, had caught the break in her voice. She needed to stay calm. Tears wouldn't solve anything here. But maybe...just maybe, she could.

When she finally came to with her answer, allowing the words to leave her lips, Dabi's expression was one of quiet, disbelieving shock. As if a bomb had just gone off in his face, and showered him with flowers. Perhaps cherry blossoms? It would be fitting, considering his partner.

"Let me help you."

Her words lingered on the air, like a midnight shadow gradually fading as the sun rose high. When the silence had stretched on just long enough, for Dabi to regain his senses and reply...he'd offered a short scoff of a chuckle in response. It was the first thing that had come to mind and left his lips. By the look on her face, his girl wasn't happy. "What? Why are you laughing? Do you think I'm joking?"

At this, he lifted a hand, waving lazily as he did his best to brush off both her irritation, and her inquiry. "Thanks Princess, but I'm good." A nickname for her, with extra meaning, since, once again, it tied back in with her mother. They'd been close. Hopefully, the sweet addition would be enough to dissuade her.

But the severe expression to her features hadn't changed – if anything, it had grown more strained. Her brow was furrowed, and her lips were pursed tightly, causing the round stud beneath them to shift slightly. How fitting, that they should both have some sort of facial adornment, though his certainly couldn't be considered any kind of positive modification. It was just necessary.

Whether her offer was serious or otherwise, it didn't matter. This was his personal business in question, and he hadn't ever needed anyone's assistance. Why should that change, just because he had an audience now, this time around?

"You call that 'good'? I may have a shaky hand, but even I can tell there's some major damage going on here! You said it acted up in the past, right? Treating them so harshly isn't gonna lessen the chances of that!" It didn't matter if it had only 'happened before' – there was always a possibility of something messing up, and potentially flipping from 'manageable' to 'holy crap, worse'! And, in her eyes, Dabi had already been through enough grief for a lifetime. This might've been smaller on the scale, but it was something that had a shot at being lessened.

She just had to convince him to trust her - !

"I'm not a medical professional, by any means. But, I'm sure that I can do it, at least without aggravating them any further! Let me try!" Her eyes were wide, and her tone was desperately pleading. However, her words were only serving to leave him cold.

By now, his earlier mild confusion was starting to give way to irritation, and it wasn't just because of the forceful stimulation to his sensitive skin. He'd been doing things this way for how long now, and everything had turned out fine! Yeah, it hurt, but so what? Did she think that he couldn't handle it; that he needed someone to baby him and bandage up his boo-boos? If he could deal with his accumulated wounds, then what was so different here?

He could accept the occasional affectionate gesture, but this? Was beyond pushing it.

"Ah - ?!" With a start, she'd nearly fallen back, as Dabi had stood suddenly. Scooping up his gear, to shove back into the bags at his side, he was already headed for the window. He didn't bother looking back at her as he spoke. "Look, if you're gonna make such a big fuss about it, then I'll just do it somewhere else. My apologies for disturbing you."

The last line was offered with positively acidic sarcasm, and she flinched at its utterance. When he let his darker emotions speak for him, it could cut pretty deep. More so than a blade, and she knew what that felt like. Up close, and personally.

But, they hadn't made it this far together, by her being a pushover. Maybe she hadn't explained herself properly, or had phrased things in such a way as to cause offense. Whatever, it didn't matter! All she cared about, in that moment, was not having him go through the pain alone.

It wasn't a matter of him being 'strong enough'. She knew he was. Perhaps, because of how she'd phrased it, he'd thought that, by virtue of her outburst, she was implying otherwise. No, that wasn't it at all! What it came down to, was that by this point in time...he shouldn't have had to shoulder it all on his own.

Dabi wasn't the most open person. She understood this. She wasn't expecting him to break down, and offer up every last bit of himself to her. She didn't need him to divulge every single memory or secret. But, if she could ease his burdens, even by just a little, then - !

The action was instantaneous. As he'd reached the sink, a pair of arms had wrapped themselves around him from behind. The grip was firm, but warm, as a smaller figure came to rest against his back. He made no move to shrug them off, but his words were not welcoming.

"Let go. Now." She knew she was taking a risk here, being so headstrong when he was obviously in a bad mood. But, she'd been the one to cause it with her ill-thought out phrasings. And her stance had not changed. If she had to be the one to get burned – figuratively or otherwise – just to make it up to him...

...then so be it.

"I'm sorry." Those were not the first words Dabi had expected to hear. He'd assumed that she would start up her pleading yet again, or even chastise him further, for potentially being 'immature' in his retort. Yeah, it was a very 'take my toys and go home' sort of response, but he wasn't obligated to be nice when he was being doubted. There was no need for her to worry so much! It didn't do either of them any good!

Still, in his initial surprise, he allowed her to continue on. If she wanted to apologize for her error, then fine. He didn't necessarily have to acknowledge it, but he'd accept it. The sooner it was over and done with, the sooner he could get out of there, and back to work. "I didn't mean to make you feel weak, or like you didn't know what you were doing."

The blood was dripping down now; he knew it must've been leaving a few spots upon the hardwood floor. Hopefully, it'd come out with a good cleaning afterwards, before it had a chance to really sink in.

Her next words, however, knocked him for a loop. "Just...why do you think that I don't know myself, either? Why do you think I shouldn't care?" He felt her hold tighten just so. "You're my partner, right? I know...that you can handle the pain." A slight waver to her voice then, but her speech didn't falter. "I also know that this – this whole setup - is new for you. It's new for me, too. To have someone who gives a damn."

The faintest sensation of rhythmic pounding – was that her heart? - caught against him. The sensation only served to add an extra punch to her final words. "But, even if it hurts...even if I have to bleed, right alongside you...please, don't shut me out. If only for this moment...let me in. You don't have to carry this by yourself any more."

Silence descended between the two of them then. Although it wasn't the greatest feeling, to admit being wrong...she had a point. If she truly meant something to him; if she was more than just some fling, then it made sense, what she was saying. This wasn't a matter of strength. She didn't consider him unable to handle his issues, no. That wasn't what she had meant here.

She knew he could deal with it...but she wanted to be a part of things, too. Maybe not everything – there were certain factors he'd never dream of getting her involved in. But, if only this once...if only in the scars they shared...couldn't he offer her this much?

Thinking back to earlier, when he'd first arrived, it became even more apparent. If the situations were flipped – if she'd had an episode, gone ahead and done something to herself, even if it wasn't his usual M.O...he'd still want her to open up to him, too. No matter if she thought she didn't need him there. If she thought, similarly, that her burdens were meant to be endured alone.

He gave a shit, if for no one else but her. He was no doctor himself, but still...he'd want to at least try to provide some sort of assistance. Some sort of attention, like she was offering here. Most likely more fumbled, on his part. Or, at least, an ear to listen. Advice, probably not. But a shoulder to lean on, a presence, some kind of solidarity...yeah, he could do that.

Looking at it that way...they had a bit more in common than he'd first realized. And, it would be hypocritical of him, if he expected something of her that he wouldn't give. Hypocrisy wasn't something he took kindly to, even in himself. Like she'd said, it was just this once, or just for this task. She wouldn't pry any further, he knew this. Going both ways, the situation was something new, and intense. But, it shouldn't divide them.

What it came down to, was neither side wanting the other to suffer, in their own ways. It wasn't a debate of strength at all. She just...wanted to bear the weight with him, alongside him. His pain was hers. She wouldn't push him away; she never had. She'd never shied away from any aspect of him. Would he have preferred if she didn't care? Or, even worse, if she'd kicked him out entirely, wanting to pretend that such things just didn't exist for him?

Being in a relationship – sharing an actual, two-way bond, with another person, romantic or otherwise...it was a lot to get used to. But now that they'd come this far...he'd be a liar if this was to be the tipping point; the place where he drew his line in the sand, to say "That's it, I quit." She didn't want to lose him, over this or anything else. So, why would it be any different on his end?

He'd opened up, given her a chance, so far. They could go a little further. Just enough. Enough for both sides to be balanced, and feel heard. He wasn't used to it...but, deep down, he couldn't reject it entirely. He just had nothing to compare it to.

Somebody caring about him – him, of all people! It could've been laughable...but, it was also something to cherish. It came from the one person he'd deemed worthwhile in his turbulent and stormy life.

And, what was really different, between cleaning up wounds, and this? Were his scars just that much more personal? If that was the case, then...didn't it mean that much more, that she should want to be involved? That she accepted every part of him, and didn't expect him to censor himself in front of her?

"Eh - ?" A jump, as without warning, Dabi had turned around in her grasp, pulling away as he headed back towards the table. He'd been sitting down again before she had a chance to blink, casually reclining in the chair, coat draped over it once more as he offered her a slight smirk. Though, there was nothing cocky about it; the look in his blue eyes said it all. Beyond just the actions, he'd made his choice.

"Go on then, Princess. Give it a shot." That same special moniker of affection. A pause, then "I trust you." He hadn't really needed to add that on, but...it had felt right. Just in case she'd been doubting his answer. To assure both of them.

It took a few moments to collect herself. But, once she did...oh, the way her face lit up, like a gradual, glorious sunrise. She wasn't giddy, that would've been weird. But she was relieved, and humbled. The one she loved the most; her everything in this mad world...was allowing her in, beyond this one barrier. He cared for her enough, to understand her intentions. And she cared enough to have them in the first place.

She had grabbed a towel, plus a disinfectant, and was about to drag over another chair, as he'd been setting up the supplies again. But, before she could reach it, a hand had shot out, and with a firm yank, had pulled her square onto his lap. Her cheeks were burning, as she was now directly face-to-face with a smug Dabi.

"Hey, if you're insisting, then I'm gonna get as much as I can outta this arrangement. Besides, it's easier like this." Well, he had a point there. She was much closer, as opposed to having to lean over from a second seat. Still, though - !

Before she could protest, he added on. "And don't even think about saying you're 'too heavy'. We've gone over this already. If you're serious about doing this, then you're doing it my way." Looks like that settled it. Letting out a soft huff, but from slightly parted, upturned lips, she carefully got to work on the task at hand.

"I don't need to warn you about the pain. Or the blood." She'd been making an effort this time, to regard him directly. Ocean eyes had been locked onto his own, with an expression that was hesitantly encouraged. "I'll do my best though...to not exacerbate it any further. So, this might take a little while." A faint chuckle then. "I hope you didn't have any other plans for today. How many were you going to pull out?"

He returned the inquiry with a grin, motioning along his jawline. "Just the lower half. The ones up top are fine." Nodding, she held up the remover, carefully positioning it under the last of the staples along his chin. A deep breath in.

"Alright...here goes."

The work was slow, but steady. It took a couple of wiggles and prying for each piece, but one by one, they were removed. With every step forwards, she would dab and brush at the resulting blood, then apply a touch of medication. In order to keep the charred flesh from falling completely however, he'd told her that for each staple taken out, a new one should immediately be punched in. That way, the scarred skin wouldn't drop down entirely.

It was quite the sight to see, he knew this. If it bothered her at all though, viewing the damage so close up, she was doing a very good job of hiding it. Or, love was just that potent a drug, allowing someone to witness such things, and not wince. To look beyond the physical, even with an appreciation for what lay above.

He wasn't entirely a mess; he'd gotten 'positive' attention before, even in this state. But it hadn't meant anything – it was only temporary, and superficial. Just for satisfying an urge, without any real connection. This was...different. It was definitely different.

Although there was still pain involved, it was to a lesser degree than what he was used to. And he couldn't deny, it did feel much nicer than the usual routine. Even the medicine being added into the mix didn't affect him as much as he might've thought it would. The sting was muffled.

He didn't even mind the slow pacing; amazingly, he wasn't impatient, like he figured he'd be, having been more familiar with just rushing through the process. Perhaps it was just being around her, and her general energy. Maybe it was watching her, so closely as she worked; the emotions playing across her features as she concentrated on each action. So devotedly focused on him and the task at hand for him.

It could've been the tune she'd started humming a ways in, too, something low yet light at the same time. He wouldn't have complained at all if she'd decided to start singing – he thought she had a nice voice, though she tended to get anxious about performing in front of others. He could ask her what song it was after this was all finished. Was it an actual song, or something she'd put together on the fly? Either or, it was pleasing.

Was this what it was like? To be cared for? To actually have others give a rat's ass about what happened to you? To not just be pushed aside, or considered an afterthought? To have such meaning to another being, that in quite the literal sense, they were willing to stain their hands, just to be close to you? Even his own family, those whose bonds were meant to be the strongest, had never viewed him in such a manner.

Yet, this random face, from what nearly felt like a whole other plane of existence by this point, could. She could and she did, no questions asked.

No – she wasn't just a random face. She was his girl, the fiery little blossom that he'd chosen, and who had chosen, to stay beside him, no matter if their worlds were different. No matter if she bore no abilities of her own, was effectively Quirkless. Her 'power' was the influence she had over him, one that he wouldn't trade for anything. That one bright spot of purity and refuge, in a land of darkness, lit only by all-consuming azure wildfires.

If, or when, this foolish society fell apart...she'd be there with him, ready to be a part of the new age; a world that would care about someone like her. Not in the same way he did, but...no longer would she be overlooked. It'd be a realm better than what it was now, and certainly better than the land where she'd come from.

She had a place and purpose. With him. For him.

Eventually, the task between them came to an end. Carefully, she placed the tools back on the table, and made the motion to rise from her place upon his lap. However, she found herself held fast, by a pair of strong, patchwork arms.

Although her heart was racing and her face was flushed, she didn't argue with the contact, seeing as it didn't happen often. This sort of sweeter, innocent interaction, happening after such a rocky start, made it all the more precious. Being close post-intimacy was a far cry from little moments like these – they were fewer, and far between. This was one instance, in which Dabi was allowing himself to show vulnerability.

"Stay." His voice was husky in her ear, though the intent was wholesome. He'd grown used to the closeness during this time, and wasn't ready for it to end just yet. Strange, but then again, when had he ever been normal? When had any of this ever been normal? The circumstances between them, his world, hers, himself, her...none of it was anything he could've, or would've, ever been prepared for.

'Expect the unexpected'. Sometimes, you really couldn't. And, that was just fine for both of them. Dabi, currently musing over everything that had transpired up to this point, letting such a moment play out, and she herself, enjoying the various sensations, as she settled into his embrace. The extra heat, due to his Quirk, the odd scents that had become so familiar, the feel of practically drowning in his secure grasp, the scar tissue and metal, so alike and yet unlike her own.

Never in a million years would she have foreseen such a future for herself, but despite the anxiety gripping her mind, attempting to dictate her life at every turn...she wouldn't have changed a thing. She was so used to impulsivity betraying her, yet in this one instance, possibly the most daring and frightening of them all...

So much. She had gained so much, just by saying "Screw it!" and taking the plunge. She'd jumped, from one home, into a whole other existence...to wind up safe and sound in the hold of someone who most would've thought she was crazy for caring one iota about. Well, she'd never claimed to be sane, had she? And if loving a villain, accepting him as he was, led her to a life of condemnation and cursing...

...then she was fine with that. She'd accept whatever came her way, because a life without Dabi, was not one she cared to live. She'd take the slings and arrows, and face her ultimate eternity with the same weight upon her shoulders. At least she'd lived an honest life. At least she'd loved.

If only she could've seen his thoughts on the matter. When it really came down to it...for all their differences, they were far more alike than either would've ever expected, more than anyone on the outside would have assumed. Their similarities bonded them, while their opposites attracted like a magnet, to work together in a brand new flow.

Who would've thought – flowers and flames. Earth and fire could coexist, and the proof was between the two of them, every minute of the new life that they shared. Neither side would give up or let go. If they were ever to be seen as selfish, it was entirely for the other. They were just fine with that. To hell with what anyone else had to say about it.

The rest of Sunday went by without incident. But it would always be one to remember.

A/N: And yet another random one shot idea from yours truly. For a different series this time, though. Haven't played around in this fandom for a LONG time. And now, bringing an OC into the mix, too! Heavens to Betsy, I hope I know what I'm getting into here.

I don't usually write OCs, because I feel like I'm kind of...limited, in what I can portray properly? The characters I create aren't really the most exciting, either. So, I usually try to stick exclusively with canon figures.

However...

I have a soft spot for Touya/Dabi. I feel like I can identify with certain aspects of his story/character [being considered a failure, absent/lousy father, being pushed aside, judged by the world, LOTS of scars]. It's just the way we handle it that's different - obviously, I didn't become a villain.

[TW: TMI] Actually, I didn't become much of anything. I'm a self-destructive nobody on disability, struggling to find my place & attempting to cultivate some sort of 'skill' in various mediums, like writing. At least he's got a spine. I admire that. I'm still attempting to fix mine.

[Uh-oh...do I smell a possible self-insert? The horror!]

'ahem' Also, I saw a piece of fan art. That, plus the song in the title, inspired this battered, terrified little plot bunny. And, after many, many, many editing sessions...I finally decided to say "Fuck it!" & post. I know, that I'm basically sharing some sort of strange coping session [that might not even be accurate, on multiple levels], to be torn apart by the internet...but okay. I enjoyed writing this, it was a good exercise, & maybe, somebody out there will enjoy reading it. Maybe it might even help in a rough situation. Who knows? 'shrugs'

This was actually originally meant to be for a dramatic reading/ASMR type-deal, which is why the female lead has no listed name. However, it wound up getting too specific/detailed...so it became an 'OC' instead. Maybe I can still do a video on it, though. IDK. It's pretty self-indulgent, but I could use some new blood on my channel. And aren't most of those ASMR readings pretty self-serving to begin with? In my experience, anyway. [Besides, my YT's mostly being eaten up by 'Hazbin Hotel' comic dubs, LOL.]

So...yeah. I guess that's everything. As always, feedback is welcomed, encouraged, & appreciated. Just...try not to rip me up *too* badly? ? I'm a weirdo, but I'm still human.

Until next time, take care & stay safe, everyone. ❤