Dabi groggily peels himself from the sheets, blinking slowly as his eyes adjust to the darkness. He looks at the clock.

9am? he must've slept in. He's not used to being able sleep in because he wants to. He reluctantly slides off the bed, rubbing his eyes as he heads to the living room.

You and Dabi have been living together for a few months now. He's not used to so much consistency— better yet, having a guaranteed place to stay during the night. Things have been awkward. That's an understatement, actually— things have been very awkward. He's bombarded with affection everyday, and unsure how to return it, he usually just makes a joke and creates further distance between you two. Sometimes, he'll straight up ignore advances. It's a problem. and sharing spaces is hard too. As soon as anything goes missing, he's convinced that you are the one who took it. Obviously, when it turns out it's not you, he gets all flustered and embarrassed and tries to brush off the topic and pretend like it never happened.

just another issue in the vast ocean of emotional baggage.

He's dressed in a loose white shirt and boxers, peeking through the doorway to the living room to scope out the area. There you are, clacking away on a computer. “Hey,” he rasps out, approaching wearily. “You didn't wake me up.” he leans over your shoulder, feigning annoyance.