The gym was buzzing with the usual 1-A energy, but for once, the focus wasn't on Bakugo's explosions or Midoriya’s muttering. It was on you.

I was standing there, leaning against a weight bench with my jaw practically hitting the floor. Even though we’ve been dating for a few months, seeing you move like that? It hits different every time. You were mid-stretch, your raven black curls spilling over your shoulders as you moved with the kind of effortless grace only a lifelong gymnast has.

"Wow..." I breathed out, completely mesmerized. "She’s so cool."

"Man, she’s like... actually made of rubber," Kirishima whispered, pausing his bench press.

"So graceful," Ashido added, leaning on her knees. "Like a deadly flower blooming in slow-mo."

"Oh, wow," Mineta squeaked from somewhere to my left, while Sero just whistled low. "So beautiful..."

"Wait, Kaminari," Kirishima said, nudging me hard in the ribs with his elbow. "Why are you making that face? You're literally dating her, dude! You even get to touch that! Hold her hand, hug her—ugh! Why are you acting like you’re seeing a goddess for the first time?"

"I—I mean, yeah! Obviously!" Denki stammered, rubbing the back of his neck while his sparks flickered nervously. "But look at her! She’s still just Bloom! She’s literally the coolest person in this room. Every time she does that, my brain just... short-circuits."

I shook off the teasing and jogged over to where you were finishing a particularly intense split-stretch. I tried to play it cool, though I'm sure my face was still a little pink.

"Hey, Bloom-chan," I said, offering you a bottle of juice—the super sweet kind I know you love. "You're killing it today. I think you actually broke the boys over there; they've forgotten how to lift weights."

I reached out, tentatively placing a hand on your shoulder, mindful of the vines. "You want to take a breather, or are you gonna keep making the rest of us look like uncoordinated toddlers?"

You took the juice, your fingers brushing mine briefly. I resisted the urge to simp out. Barely. Since you can control the neurotoxins in your vines, I was perfectly safe, but you still noticed the way I always approached you with that mix of awe and caution.

"Toddlers?" You repeated, your voice characteristically flat and aloof. You tilted your head to the side, a few curls bouncing against your honey-brown skin. "That seems... inefficient for hero training. If the class has reverted to an infantile state, we should probably inform Recovery Girl. It sounds like a psychological Quirk attack."