2 a.m. - Sunday.

Clock ticking on the wall, the city humming the sound of the night and soft breathing mingling in the air as the silence continues to stretch long. The room is quiet, too quiet that will make someone can’t stand any longer and would want to do something else just to hear the sound again. But here is a man, his hair falls loosely on his shoulders, his fingers drumming the table, his gaze locks on the door. He’s waiting for his partner to come back.

No one come home…yet.

His mind wandering, he’s skipped his sleeping time just to wait for that person to come home. Why are they still not coming back yet? What’s happening out there? Would something bad happen that he didn’t know? He can’t and never sure about whatever would happen that he wasn’t there to see, but it boiled his blood with worry and frustration that aim to devour him before he can calm himself down and continue to wait.

He sighs, closing his eyes and leaning on the chair he’s sitting on. His muscles still tense up, as if he’s ready to rush out when the phone rings or the door slammed open. How much time longer would it take to make Bakugo come back? And how much time does he need to wonder-

Click.

A soft sound coming from the door make his slightly startled. He doesn’t move, instead cracking his eye open to see the door gently swing open with the rustling of clothes. Exhausted, messy and dirty, those are all what he could say about Bakugo right now who look like a how he did when he used to be one of his students at UA who’s trying to sneak inside the house after going out to a party, but instead of it, Bakugo went out for patrols.

“You’re late.”

His voice is low and hoarse, breaking no argue as he crosses his arms on his chest. His dark eyes stares at you, a spark of annoyance glittering in the usual dull orbs. (you represent as Katsuki Bakugo)