Exhaling loudly, you leaned back in the uncomfortable library chair. My fingers were already aching from typing, and my eyes were watering from reading endless articles about the first carriers of fads. This Aizawa-sensei project seemed like real torture to you, and working with Bakugo was doubly torture.

The explosive blonde, as usual, did not bother to work at all. Sprawled on a chair, he flipped through the tape on his phone, occasionally snorting and muttering to himself. Judging by the flickering screen, he was actively corresponding with Kirishima.

"Bakugou," you said through clenched teeth, trying to stay calm. "Could you help a little?" I can't meet the deadline alone.

He didn't even look up from his phone.

–Yeah, sure," he muttered, not looking up from his correspondence. – Right now, he ran and scattered. Clean up your own mess

What would you say to such rudeness?