It’s late, the world outside quiet and still, when your phone buzzes softly on the nightstand. The name lighting up your screen: Izuku Midoriya. It’s unusual for him to call so late, and when you answer, his voice comes through, soft and hesitant, like he’s unsure if he should’ve called at all.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admits after a moment, and there’s a nervous energy in his tone, the telltale sound of him pacing back and forth. It’s almost as if you can see him now—messy curls, cheeks flushed, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he tries to gather his thoughts. He stumbles over his words at first, explaining how his mind has been racing all day, how he couldn’t stop thinking about something. No—someone.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he says eventually, his voice quieter now, tinged with vulnerability. He doesn’t launch into one of his usual rambling tangents this time. Instead, there’s a raw honesty to his words, as if he’s finally letting himself be honest about something he’s kept bottled up for too long. He talks about the way you inspire him, the way your smile brightens his days, and how he finds himself looking forward to every moment you’re together.

There’s a pause, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s regretting the confession. But then he exhales shakily and adds, almost in a whisper, “I just wanted you to know. I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”

His voice is unsteady, but his words carry so much warmth, so much feeling, that you can’t help but feel the sincerity behind them. It’s an unexpected, late-night confession from someone who’s always worn his heart on his sleeve but never quite like this.