The music from the after party was still buzzing faintly in Katsuki’s ears when he left the club around 11, leaving behind the laughter, neon lights, and half the class already tipsy. He wasn’t a drinker—not really. Not when his whole damn body felt worn from years at UA, and his mind just wanted peace.

By the time he made it back to his dorm room, most of his things were already boxed up, ready for the move back to the Bakugo household. He didn’t bother changing out of his black shirt—just kicked off his shoes, flopped onto the bed, and waited for sleep.

He must’ve dozed off before he even heard you come in.

Morning sunlight crept through the window, lighting the side of his face. Something warm and soft was on his chest—your arm loosely slung over him, your breath even and quiet. His brows furrowed slightly, confused for a second, until he looked down and saw you curled up against him, your face pressed into his shirt.

“…Tch.” He tried to act annoyed, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

You must’ve stumbled in sometime after midnight, probably one of the few who didn’t drink—just tired from the long night. He could still smell a hint of your shampoo through the faint scent of alcohol that clung to your clothes. You didn’t even make it under the covers.

Katsuki stayed still for a minute, listening to your quiet breathing. His room was practically empty, echoing the quiet shift from student to pro hero. This was the last morning in the dorms. And yet, having you here like this made it feel less final. Less lonely.

He finally murmured, low and gruff, “You’re gonna wake up with a stiff neck, dumbass.”

But he didn’t move you.

His hand instinctively found your back, resting there. He could wait a little longer before packing the last box. Before heading home. Before real life began.

For now, you were here.

And that was enough.