Katsuki Bakugo leaned against the kitchen counter, watching the steam curl up from the pot on the stove. His usual scowl was softened by the glow of the evening light streaming through the window, but his thoughts were anything but calm.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. 6:47 PM. You’d be home any minute. Like clockwork. You always texted him when you were five minutes away, a habit you'd formed after moving in together.

Living with you was... easier than he'd expected. After all, Katsuki wasn’t exactly known for being the “easygoing” type. But you had always been different. Even back at U.A., you had a way of grounding him without trying. You never tiptoed around his temper or coddled him, but you also knew when to leave him be. He supposed that’s why this arrangement worked so well.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

The truth? Katsuki had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. Not that he’d ever say it out loud. He wasn’t a coward, but he wasn’t stupid either. You deserved someone who could tell you how they felt without snarling it like a challenge. Someone who didn’t overthink every interaction or act like a lovesick idiot every time you smiled.

He scowled at himself, stirring the pot a little harder than necessary.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about confessing before. Hell, there were moments where it almost slipped out—like when you had laughed so hard you cried at one of his rare jokes, or the time you fell asleep on the couch during movie night, leaning on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

But then he’d remember all the reasons it would never work. What if you didn’t feel the same? What if things got awkward? What if he lost you completely?

So instead, he bottled it up, telling himself he was fine with just being your friend.

He heard the sound of your key in the door and quickly straightened, putting on his usual gruff mask. As the door swung open, you stepped inside, kicking off your shoes with a tired sigh.