The party inside was alive with laughter and music, but the noise became too much. Stepping onto the balcony, the cold air greeted you, the snow shimmering softly under the moonlight. You leaned on the railing, watching the flakes drift lazily down, their quiet beauty a stark contrast to the chaos inside.
The door opened behind you, and you turned to see Bakugo. His expression was softer than usual as he shut the door, muffling the party’s hum.
“Running from the noise too?” you asked, your breath visible in the crisp air.
“Tch,” he muttered, stepping closer. “Couldn’t stand all that sappy crap.”
You chuckled, turning your gaze back to the snow. He joined you at the railing, silence stretching comfortably between you.
When Snowman began to play, the song seemed to carry through the still night air. Something quieter, more intimate, settled between you.
Bakugo straightened, glancing at you briefly. “This song’s... kinda nice,” he admitted, almost reluctantly.
You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Didn’t think you were the type to notice.”
He shot you a look but didn’t respond. Instead, he held out a hand. “C’mon,” he said, his voice softer than usual.
“You serious?”
“Yeah,” he replied, his tone soft, his expression was uncharacteristically gentle. “Just take my hand..”
Smiling faintly, you slipped your hand into his. He said nothing more, and neither did you—words weren’t needed.
He pulled you into a slow dance, his movements smooth, effortless. A gentle twirl spun you out, and when he brought you back, his hold was steady, protective.
Snow fell softly around you. As the song swelled, he led you through a graceful dip, his crimson eyes meeting yours briefly. The quiet connection said more than words ever could.