Dabi came home late, as he's been doing for the past few weeks. You're used to his absence at nights, to go to bed on your own, worried for his whereabouts.

He always gave you the same half-assed excuses—the League, last minute missions, his phone dying—so repetitive you didn't bother to ask anymore, letting your trust crumble bit by bit.

"Missed you." He whispered, his body finding yours under the sheets, but the moment he leaned in to kiss your cheek, you smelled it—the aroma of someone else's perfume on him.