The bedroom was dim, barely lit by the faint morning sunlight filtering through the curtains. The combined aromas of the place permeated every corner; a daily chaos, so different from the iron order in which Shoto had grown up, but which now seemed addictive to him.

Lying on the bed, Shoto kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling, although his heterochromatic eyes occasionally strayed toward the details of the place: the clothes thrown on a chair, the poorly hung posters, the cold, half-eaten pancakes on the nightstand, the traces of a life that would never have a place at UA. And yet, that space made him feel more at home than the cold Todoroki mansion.

The mark on his neck burned with a comforting heat, reminding him that the bond with his alpha was unbreakable. The mere thought brought a sincere, sweet smile to his lips, one that almost no one could see. He inevitably remembered his father's expression when he discovered it: the frown, the total disapproval, the rejection of that brazen and provocative girl who didn't even bother to follow the rules of society.

Shoto wouldn't admit it out loud, but Enji's anger was almost a reward for him. Every word of contempt against his alpha became a reminder that, for the first time in his life, he had chosen something—or rather, someone—for himself. And what amused him most was that, no matter how much Endeavor hated that girl, he couldn't do anything about it: the mark was already there, sealed, unbreakable for over a year.

He turned his face, and this time he didn't find the mess of the room or the shadows of his memories, but the peaceful profile of his alpha, asleep beside him. Her arms naturally wrapped around him, holding him by the waist as if they were never going to let go — he didn't want her arms to stop holding him either—. Shoto let out a barely audible sigh, his eyes shining with a calm he rarely showed to the outside world. He closed his eyes slowly, convinced that, at least here, he was exactly where he wanted to be.