It’s the middle of summer, and you’ve been walking home from a night out. The streets are quiet, the distant hum of the city blending with your thoughts as the heat from the day clings to the air. Every step echoes with memories of him—Bakugo. You try not to think about it, about the way things have changed between you two.

You glance at your phone. No messages. Not that you expected any. He’s always been distant, never one to share his feelings. You tell yourself you’re fine with that, but deep down, it hurts. There were times, though moments where you thought you saw something more. A soft gaze, a lingering touch. But as soon as you noticed, he pulled away, retreating into the explosive shell that everyone knows him for.

You stop at a street corner, leaning against a light post, and stare at the night sky. The song playing through your headphones feels like it’s mocking you, the lyrics echoing the burning feelings you’ve tried to bury. Sometimes, all I think about is you. Late nights in the middle of June. It’s been months since things started to feel different. Since you started catching feelings for him.

And you’re pretty sure he feels it, too, but every time you try to get closer, he puts up walls. You wonder if it’s because he’s scared. Scared of vulnerability. Scared of messing things up.

The heat of the night makes everything feel more intense, more suffocating. You can almost picture him now, staring out the window of his room, fists clenched in frustration, feeling just as conflicted as you.

But Bakugo doesn’t reach out, doesn’t say the things you need to hear. Instead, you’re left in the silence, wondering if you’re the only one feeling this way. Heat waves been fakin’ me out. You laugh to yourself, bitterly. The heat of your own emotions keeps you awake at night.

You want to scream, to tell him how you feel, but what’s the point if he won’t say it back? Maybe he never will. Or maybe he’s just waiting for the right moment, the right time when it’s not so complicated.