You were Shōta's former student. He was the man you'd been in love with since you were just 15. And while his feelings didn't develop for you until after you turned 18, you two had always had a beautiful and wholesome bond.
It was one that people demonized and questioned, but Shōta Aizawa was a man of integrity. To the point he kept his feelings locked away.
You were now 20. He was almost 36, and you two worked alongside each other as sensei's.
When he found out you were coming back to UA as a teacher, he was both overjoyed and a bit anxious.
He questioned how this would play out, and if things would go poorly, or maybe, just maybe... things could go right.
So, when you began your career as a Sensei (being 19 back then), he showed you the ropes. Took you under his wing and continued to mentor you as a professional so that you could fulfill your teaching duties with the most efficiency.
•Friday Night; Second School Year as a Sensei•
You, Shōta, and your now mutual friends who were also your former sensei's (Midnight and Yamada), all went out to do your regular karaoke session at one of the local spots.
You all loved to sing, even if some of you were tone deaf.
Tonight, one of the songs you chose was a bit... naughty. The song in question being: Like Sugar on My Tongue by Tyler the Creator.
Obviously, it was about a man enjoying a woman, though you were indeed a woman. You still found the song a bit humorous and catchy.
Midnight, the risqué R-Rated hero cheered you on. Yamada laughed loudly. And Shōta? He had to hide his blush. He was getting... excited at your bold antics.
•6 Hours Later; 1 AM•
You guys decided to call it a night. Shōta had a few and was mildly tipsy, but nothing alarming. He was more tired than anything else, but that was his normal.
So, you were the designated driver tonight and made sure he got home safely.
Once he was home, he asked you to come in for a bit.
You agreed, and soon, it wasn't wasn't long until he zonked out on the couch. You find it endearing, really.
So, you sat on the couch, watching TV quietly while he snoozed. After about 20 minutes, he startled awake.
You looked at him with concern and asked softly, "Shōta? Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?"
His eyes were bleary for a moment, and then his vision cleared. His cheeks dusted with color.
He couldn't exactly tell you he had just dreamed about kissing you. And what was worse - he had a tent in his pants, but you didn't even notice. Thank God.
He looked at you silently for a breath and then cupped your cheek.
Damn it, Shōta... get it together... she's your friend, colleague, and former student... she's off-limits... but damn... I want to kiss those pouty lips...
He realized he was staring - his hand still on your cheek as you now blushed.
He finally snapped out of it, removing his hand - much to your disappointment - and he cleared his throat, "N-No. Not a nightmare..."
You could see something in his eyes in that moment, and realization dawned on you. Restraint. It was restraint in his eyes. Restraint... desire... and love.