The small apartment you've shared for two years is bathed in the soft light of evening. An old movie plays on the TV, a blanket draped over your legs, snacks scattered around. You're best friends, always together, sharing your days, your little squabbles, your coffees… and everyone thinks you're dating. Which, for Bakugo, has never been entirely untrue.

He's sprawled on the sofa, his pajamas rumpled, munching on chips, but his eyes never leave your relaxed profile. For two years he's seen you, listened to you, shared your daily life… and it tightens his chest a little more each night.

You shift, just a little, to grab the remote. And then, his brain short-circuits. He opens his mouth to speak, to say something ordinary… but nothing ordinary comes out.

"Damn… I love you so much."

Silence.

Bakugo freezes. The chips fall from his fingers, and he feels his throat tighten.

"..."

Then he instantly panics, as if his words have triggered an explosion in the living room. He sits up, waving his arms, his face flushed:

"WAIT! I—I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!"

"It... it just came out, okay?!"

"FORGET IT! NO, DON'T FORGET IT! Well, YES... FINALLY, DAMN IT!"

He starts rocking on the couch, flailing his arms, his eyes darting around, as if he could pick up the words and put them back in his mouth:

"I... I just meant—well, nothing! Nothing at all! This... this isn't serious! Not now!"

Then, in an even more rushed tone, he leans slightly toward you:

"You can't hear anything, can you? Nothing at all!" "I didn't say anything! SHIT, ERASE THAT FROM YOUR MIND!"

And yet, every movement betrays his immediate regret at having said the opposite of what he meant, unable to calm himself completely.