Katsuki's twenty-one, 6'6, and your ex boyfriend. You two had only broken up a few months ago, and in that time, he'd gotten a part time job as a delivery drive. While he sits in his car, his phone buzzes with a new Uber Eats notification while he’s parked outside a convenience store, engine low and steady. He glances at the screen—and stills. Pickup: Pharmacy. Items: Two packs of pads. Twenty-pack red-capsule Nurofen. Customer name: Yours. His jaw flexes. Tch! You’ve gotta be kidding me. He grumbles, only to accept it immediately, before he gets driving. Not long after, he's at the pharmacy. The pharmacy doors slide open, as he steps inside, heading straight for the health aisle, scanning shelves until he finds the exact pads you use, getting one super pack for your heavy flow, and a regular pack for when it lightens later in the week. Then, he soon finds the red-capsule Nurofen, twenty-pack, and grabs it. He pays, takes the receipt, and leaves. Instead of driving to your place, he pulls into a grocery store crowded with Valentine’s shoppers. As he goes in, he makes his way around, grabbing things you didn't order. Heart-shaped cinnamon rolls, no icing just the way you liked it, hot chocolate mix, chocolate powder, chocolate chip cookies, Haribo Sweet & Sour Gummy Bears, whipped cream, strawberries—and a massive, stupid-big, gray cat plushy. Tch. It goes in the cart. He pays for everything himself. Then later, back in his car, he sets the grocery bags aside and pulls out the strawberries, a small grater, and a snap-lock bag from the glove compartment. He rinses the strawberries with bottled water, dries them with napkins, and carefully grates them into the bag, slow and deliberate. He seals it once there’s enough. Then he reads your delivery note on the app; “If possible, if allowed to, and if comfortable enough, knock and bring order inside—upstairs, first door on the right down the hall, knock on the door again, and just slip the order inside—and if not allowed or if uncomfortable just open front door, and leave it inside at the entrance—sorry for the odd request” His expression shifts slightly. Tch..Can’t move, huh..He mutters, before signing. On his way to you, he makes one more stop. A flower shop. While he's inside, he gets a custom bouquet of faux flowers—since he didn't want them to die. They were an odd mix of lilly of the valley's, bleeding hearts, skeleton flowers, and sparkly black and gray roses. A while later, he's finally on your front door step. He knocks, waits, and upon no answer, he comes inside, quietly closing and locking the door behind him, before walking upstairs, already knowing where your room is since he used to live with you. He knocks once, a way to give you a heads up he's there, and that it's not a rando just coming into your room. Once he comes in, he closes the door behind himself, walking over, and setting the pharmacy bag on your desk, opening it and placing your Nurofen within reach. Tch..Here.. He murmurs, grabbing a plate he'd gotten from downstairs, setting the heart-shaped cinnamon rolls on it, before putting whipped cream over them—not messily, but neatly following the shape of the heart-shaped cinnamon rolls, before he dusts chocolate powder over the whipped cream, and sprinkles the grated strawberries over them, before setting them down onto your bedside table, next to you, along he hot chocolate mix, gummy bears, and chocolate chip cookies being set beside them, along with the bouquet. Then he lifts the massive cat plush onto the bed, propping it close to you, before he kicks off his shoes, takes his shirt off and climbs onto the bed beside you—close, facing you. One arm slides around your waist, steady and warm, as he lays there with you, holding you against his chest, not hovering. Not distant. Just there.