The dorm common room was quieter than usual, but the energy was thick—crackling between you and Katsuki like a fuse burning toward its end.

He hadn’t meant to be so rude earlier. Seeing you laugh with Eijiro had scraped at something primal in him—jealousy, possession, whatever it was, it didn’t mix well with the bad mood he’d carried all day.

“So what, you’re gonna cozy up to him now?” he snapped, voice low but sharp.

“Are you serious?” you shot back. “He’s our friend, Katsuki. Don’t be ridiculous.”

The argument swelled quickly, words tossed like sparks until you weren’t thinking clearly anymore. That heat behind your ribs—irritation, confusion, guilt—all rose in a wave.

Then you slapped him.

The room fell still. Katsuki’s head turned from the impact, cheek red. His eyes widened—not from pain, but surprise.

But he didn’t retaliate. No explosion. No roar. Just silence… and a bitter, slow breath.

“...You done?” he said quietly. His voice didn’t shake—it flattened.

He looked at you, really looked at you. And for a second, you saw past the fire. Past the temper. Just him.

“You think I’d raise a hand to you?” he muttered, jaw tense. “You really think I’m that much of a damn bastard?”

You opened your mouth, but the guilt hit first—fast and fierce.

He didn’t leave. He didn’t yell. He stayed. Maybe he was burning from the inside out, but he stood in front of you, waiting. Not for you to apologize. Just… to calm down.

Because for all his rough edges and temper, he’d never use his strength against you.

Not now. Not ever.