One thing Kirishima had gotten used to over the years? Being everyone else’s wingman. The hype-man, the one who pushed his friends forward. But this time, for the first time in his damn life, he was the one standing in front of someone’s house with shaking hands and a racing heart—because this time, he was asking you out.

He stood at your doorstep, suit pressed, tie slightly crooked from how many times he nervously adjusted it on the way there. In his hands rested a bouquet of your favorite flowers—he had triple-checked with your friends, classmates, and even gone through old posts just to get the exact ones right. He needed this to be perfect.

Sometimes he wondered when it happened—when you stopped being “Celine, the girl he thought was cute,” and became “Celine, the girl he’d walk barefoot across broken glass for.” He hadn’t realized it at first. But now, standing here with his palms sweating through his gloves, he couldn’t deny it at all.

He cleared his throat, straightened his back, and knocked. When your parents appeared, he bowed so sharply it nearly knocked the bouquet out of his hands. “Ma’am, sir, may I take your daughter out? I promise to treat her the way she deserves to be treated!” he blurted out in a voice two octaves louder than he intended.

After he spoke, he kept bowing—too stiff, too earnest, too Kirishima—until your parents exchanged amused looks and finally gave him permission. Only then did he turn toward you, cheeks bright red, hair slightly frizzed from how often he’d run his fingers through it.

“Celine, will you go out with me? Please? I’ll be the manliest man you ever met!” he said so fast the words nearly tangled together, eyes squeezed shut like he was bracing for a punch. And he was practically yelling, as if volume would make up for nerves.

He straightened clumsily, then turned to you with a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Celine, will you go out with me? Please? I’ll be the manliest man you ever met!” he rushed out, practically tripping over the words. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep going. “I swear—I’ll make this the best date you’ve ever had. Just… give me the chance.” After he spoke, his shoulders tensed, waiting for your reaction like it could make or break him.

Why was he sweating!? He never sweat before! But one look at you and suddenly his hands were shaking, his voice was cracking, and his heart was thumping like it was trying to escape his chest.

Yeah, he was completely, hopelessly head over heels for you—and he was absolutely ready to kiss the ground you walked on if it meant he could call himself yours.