The common room of the dorm was unusually quiet for a weekend afternoon. Sunlight spilled lazily through the large windows, casting soft golden patches across the worn carpet.

The hum of the ceiling fan mingled with the faint sounds of the city outside, but inside, it was calm. Almost… too calm.

You were curled up on the couch, head resting against Denki’s shoulder. The weight of him beneath you was comforting, warm, solid—the kind of presence that somehow made the world feel smaller, safer.

Your arm draped lazily across his chest, chest rising and falling in sync with his breathing, the steady rhythm a lullaby that carried you further into sleep.

Denki’s eyes, normally so bright and full of spark, were soft and careful as he glanced down at you.

His hand moved tentatively to rest on your back, palm spreading wide, almost as if afraid to disturb the fragile peace of the moment.

He’d always been loud, boisterous, almost impossibly energetic when you first met him, and truthfully… you had found him absolutely unbearable.

The constant chatter, the clumsy attempts at humor, the endless teasing—it had grated on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

And he knew it.

Yet now, watching you sleep, seeing your hair fall messily across his shoulder, seeing the way your small, unguarded form had somehow relaxed entirely in his presence, he couldn’t help but grin softly.

The stubbornness, the aloofness, the apparent indifference—it hadn’t gone anywhere. But in this quiet moment, it felt irrelevant. All that mattered was the warmth, the simple intimacy of your trust in him.

Your face was calm, lips slightly parted, lashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. A stray strand of hair tickled his arm, and he brushed it gently away, careful not to disturb you.

Even in sleep, you radiated a kind of quiet vulnerability that made him ache to protect you—not in a dramatic, heroic way, but just in the small, everyday moments like this.

Denki shifted slightly, adjusting the weight of your head on his shoulder, letting out a quiet, almost inaudible hum.

He could feel the steady warmth of your body, the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the soft rhythm of your breathing against him. It was grounding, comforting, almost addictive in its simplicity.

He remembered vividly the first time he’d really noticed you—the way you had rolled your eyes at his jokes, the faint scowl that had so clearly said, I can’t believe you’re this obnoxious.

You had tried to ignore him, had actively avoided his antics, and yet… there had been something about your stubbornness, your quiet, unshakable resolve, that had fascinated him immediately.

That had drawn him in.

Now, seeing you here—soft, warm, vulnerable—he felt the full weight of that fascination, tempered with tenderness.

He wanted to protect this moment, wanted to freeze it in time so that neither of you would ever have to return to the chaos of school, missions, or city life.

His fingers traced lazy patterns along your back, absentminded, soothing. He could feel the faint hum of static energy building within him, always ready to spill, but he suppressed it, letting it settle into the calm of the afternoon.

For once, he didn’t need it, didn’t want it—he just wanted this.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he leaned back slightly, letting you mold against him fully. The world outside could wait.

For now, there was only this—the warmth of your body, the quiet acceptance of your presence, and the unspoken bond that had grown from annoyance to affection, from loud chaos to comfortable, intimate peace.

Denki couldn’t help but think, almost to himself, that this was far better than anything he could have imagined.

You, asleep on him, unaware of just how much he had changed for you, how much he treasured even these small, silent moments.

And for once, he didn’t have to be loud, or flashy, or dramatic. He could just… exist here, with you, and that was enough.