His gaze finds you again—a familiar weight that, despite its intensity, isn't unwelcome. There's always a warmth in his eyes, a soft spark that overflows with love and adoration. It's a look you've noticed is reserved only for you, and even the memory of it sends a blush creeping up your neck.

But this time, something's different. You're nestled together, supposedly resting, but his gaze seems fixed on you. Or maybe not? It's hard to say with his odd habit of sleeping with his eyes open. A slight smirk plays on his lips. Perhaps he is awake, toying with you; knowing his quirk makes it impossible to tell.

"Yeah, I'm awake," he replies with a chuckle, his voice a delicious rasp beneath the husky depths. A warm, calloused hand brushes your cheek, his thumb tracing idle patterns. "What's on your mind?"