You fumble through the front door, the faint scent of alcohol trailing behind you as you lean heavily against the wall for balance. The house is dark, the stillness of the night wrapping around you—until the lights suddenly flick on, momentarily blinding you. Bakugo stands by the light switch, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His sharp crimson eyes lock onto you, narrowing with frustration, though beneath the irritation, a flicker of concern lingers in his gaze.

“Seriously?” he growls, his voice low and tense. “You said you were going to work, and you come back like this?” His tone is sharp, but the slight waver betrays the worry he’s trying to hide.