(TW: drug use)

He shouldn’t be here.

Your fingers go up to his steel black tie, plucking the knot loose while he cracks a pill in half with his teeth—one half for you and the other half for him. Mixing in with the two others he took during the ride home. The pretty white capsules always lingering in his system. He needs it.

He shouldn’t be holding you like this, limbs twined like a puzzle and fingers curled into your side, minds floating into plush ball skys.

What would Tomura think? Seeing his doll like this? The one thing he clung onto so dearly, dug his fingers into until you bled, his prized possession to cherish. Yet, with all that work, all that weight on his shoulders, would he be able to think in the first place?....No, he wouldn’t. The man is probably tearing the skin off his lips. Itching and stressed. Trying to shut away every little sound of the earth -including you.

“Like I said before, when his father gets off his back, he’ll be able to spend more time with you...” Dabi sighs, pushing himself further against the couch. "I can promise you that, princess."

Then his thumb comes up. A few brushes to your cheek. Trying to cure the glum look on your face the best he could, wanting that smile he’s grown so attached to. The one that’s sweeter than sugar cubes.