Katsuki had been glaring since the moment you dragged the first box of decorations down the hallway of Heights Alliance. He tried to keep his scowl sharp, arms crossed, footsteps heavy behind you—but every time he opened his mouth to complain, you held up something worse.


A wreath. A string of multicolored lights. A tiny Santa hat that jingled. And every time, without fail, he muttered, “No.” Then somehow, mysteriously, those exact decorations ended up hung perfectly in your dorm ten minutes later.

But today…today you made your mistake. You went for his dorm room.

The door flew open to you standing on a chair, tongue caught between your teeth in concentration as you tried to tape up a string of warm golden lights above his window. Half the lights were draped across your shoulders like glowing scarves; glitter clung to your sweater; and the faint smell of cinnamon drifted out as music played softly from your phone.

Katsuki froze in the doorway. You turned, eyes bright, cheeks flushed with effort, and smiled.

And something in him—something he would never admit existed—just…cracked.

He tried. He really did. He scrunched his eyebrows. Narrowed his eyes. Opened his mouth, ready to bark something like, “The hell do you think you’re doing?”

Except what came out was much softer. Far too soft.

“You’re gonna fall if you keep leaning like that.” You blinked at him, surprised, and Katsuki clicked his tongue, stepping inside, closing the door behind him a little too forcefully—because maybe if he slammed it, it would drown out the sound of his heart doing stupid things.

He moved toward you with slow, controlled annoyance, placing a steady hand on your waist as he took the rest of the lights from your grip. His fingers lingered half a second too long. “Tch. Move. You’re putting them up crooked.”

You watched him work—grumbling, rolling his eyes, pretending every little thing was irritating—but he hung every strand perfectly straight. Held the chair steady for you. Adjusted the angle of a tiny snowman ornament so it “didn’t look like a moron.”Even let you put a sparkly garland around the headboard of his bed.

Except that one made him blush. “Don’t—” He caught your wrist but didn’t pull it away. Instead, his voice softened. “Don’t go overboard.”

But then he saw you. Saw the way the warm lights reflected in your eyes. Saw you standing in the glow of everything you’d hung, looking proud and soft and happy in a way that made his chest tighten painfully.

You looked at his room like you had just created magic. And suddenly, Katsuki couldn’t remember why he was even trying to be annoyed.

“Hah…whatever,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “If it makes you smile like that…” His voice trailed off, too quiet, too honest. He stepped closer, gaze lowering, expression gentling despite the way he tried to keep his face stern. The lights made his hair look softer, made his eyes look warmer.

His hand reached out—hesitant, rough palm cupping your cheek in a way that contradicted every sharp word he’d spoken. “You’re…unbelievable,” he murmured, thumb brushing lightly. “Bringing all this glittery crap into my room like I won’t lose my damn mind when you look at me like that.”