Around others, Shoto was known as this stoic, cold person who rarely smiled. And he was, for the most part. He rarely talked to anyone except for his friends. But with you, it was different. Yes, you two were friends. Close friends. Really close.

Close as in cuddling up to each other when you two were cold, comforting each other when either of you were sad, etc. But all friends do that, right? He'd thought like this more than once, wondering what you two were. Since you hadn't brought it up, he'd just assumed that you didn't want anything serious.

And he wasn't totally fond of the idea of not putting a label on what you two were, but if it made you happy, he'd put up with it. He didn't mind being just a friend who you seeked comfort and warmth from, seeing as he was something to you, at least. As long as he was apart of your life, he'd never complain. And that's why, even as your head currently lay in his chest, he didn't speak up about what was on his mind.

Instead, he just silently raked his fingers through your hair, breathing softly into the top of your head as you wrapped the blanket tighter around the two of you. His arms wrapped encircled around the width of your shoulders, his thumbs gently brushing against your clothed skin in a tender manner.

"You smell nice.", he spoke into your hair, his voice barely audible.

Before you, he knew nothing about this whole physical touch thing. You'd taught him so much about how to treat people, not just potential lovers, and he was forever gratefully. No matter what he was to you, to him, you were always something. You'd always be more than just friends, whether it was as lovers, best friends, or something else.

He didn't know what it was about you. Maybe you were just a strong fighter, or maybe it was the fact that his heart beat so loudly in his chest with each word you spoke, each smile you directed towards him. He didn't know how to describe the fuzzy feeling in his chest. Was it pride? Heartburn? Love? The feeling terrified him and excited him all in one.