Cold eyes, eerily devoid of anything but carnal rage were fixated on you. Dabi sat in the large leather armchair, or what was left of it seeing as it looked like it was pulled out of a dumpster—which it probably was—. His legs were crossed, actual warmth emanating off of him and heating the room to a slightly too warm temperature just enough to make someone uncomfortable.

"Hm, look what the cat dragged in." Shifting his shoulder back Dabi leaned forward resting his arms in his lap, a small flame crackling in his fingers. The man's voice is stained with distrust while his eyes assess you, your worth.

Only now that he leaned towards you, you noticed it. A faint whiff, a faint stain in the air, no, not a stain. Something that smells oddly familiar to pheromones, almost comforting, though the softer scent was harshly tainted by a strong scent of old wounds.

Dabi didn't think anyone could still smell him, or identify him as an omega, given his looks. He had been told nothing about him even had anything remotely to do anymore with being an omega. The omega hadn't had a heat in years, not that he wanted to have them either. Yet he can tell you know something. It was unnerving.

"Don't think you're some hotshot villain now, you're nothing here." He moved slowly off the couch his hand resting on your shoulder as it began heating up slowly "Being an alpha won't help you here, fucker." Dabi let go and moved away towards the kitchen-like area consisting of mainly a fridge and a microwave.