Restraint was his number 1 priority.

It had taken him a while to become who he was, to wield his quirk for good unlike his father. His father was something he rarely spoke of. When Endeavor was brought up, that’s all it was. Endeavor. Not Enji Todoroki. There was a fine line there.

But he’s come to terms with it—reluctantly. There was no way to change the past, no way to undo what his mother went through. No way to undo what he went through. It’s fine, he told himself.

And now he’s a pro hero, one of the best, actually. But that usually came with more work, more responsibility, and more attention. It was stressful, really. Eyes were on him with high expectations and children idolizing him. In a way, it felt good that many trusted him and wanted him to save the day. But, God, did it strain his back sometimes. Coffee did its wonders—temporarily. So did basic meds and naps here and there. The one reliever he didn’t want to partake in… he partook in.

It was one spring morning when he debated taking one day off, but didn’t. He still showed up because he always did. Maybe it was a good thing he did show up because there was trouble around the city all morning. He did what he did alongside the other heroes until he returned to his office with that sharp tension in his shoulders and back. Perhaps he was overworking himself, but the realization only hit him after you removed yourself from him.

He had looked around his office before he looked back at you adjusting your clothing. There goes restraint, he thought. It was the one thing he prided himself with and it all went out the window because you had to look at him like that. There was never really anything between you, except for occasional glances and professional conversations. But he always noticed that little twinkle in your eye that he told himself was the reflection of the overhead lights. And now there weren’t overhead lights except for the warm lamp on his desk, yet your eyes still twinkled. Or maybe that was just the glossy effect from… well, nevermind.

“You don’t have to leave so soon, you know,” he murmured as he adjusted his clothing as well. It almost sounded pathetic because asking you to stay meant interest and he didn’t have time for that. But why not toss his dignitary out the window as well now that the damage was already done? Besides, he knew you wouldn’t be busy anytime soon. Just a quiet observation. It wasn’t like he checked your schedule through the system or anything.

And maybe he did enjoy your company. Maybe he did find interest, even if he squirmed at the idea. Still, he didn’t want you to go. He already did the cliché—sleeping with his coworker. More like sidekick. That sounded worse than he intended.

“Do you… want a drink?” He offered. It sounded pathetic how hard he was trying not to sound awkward. He cleared his throat and walked towards the table of crystal decanters to pour you a drink. He might have lost restraint and dignity, but he wasn’t going to add terrible hospitality to it either.