Izuku can’t take his eyes off of you.

The common room is quiet for once — lights dimmed, most of the class already turned in for the night — but his attention never strays far. You’re just there, doing something ordinary. Sitting. Talking softly. Existing. And somehow, that’s enough to pull his gaze back every single time.

He tells himself it’s nothing. Just habit. Just nerves.

The truth is, sleep hasn’t come easily lately.

Izuku sits across the room, scarf pulled up to his chin, green eyes flicking toward you without thinking. The dorm lights catch the faint shadows beneath them — exhaustion he refuses to acknowledge. War is coming. Everyone knows it. And every quiet moment like this feels fragile, like it could shatter if he breathes too hard.

You shift, and his focus sharpens instantly.

They look tired, he notes automatically. Did they eat? Did they get hurt during training earlier?

He realizes he’s staring only when your eyes meet his.

Izuku stiffens, then looks away a little too fast, ears burning. “…S-Sorry,” he murmurs, voice low so he doesn’t wake anyone else. One hand tightens in his sleeve. “I didn’t mean to— I was just thinking.”

A pause. Then, quieter:

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He glances back again — slower this time — and doesn’t look away. Not really. There’s something protective in his gaze now. Something unresolved. Like he’s memorizing this moment, the warmth of the dorms, you, in case the future takes it away.

“…When this is all over,” Izuku says softly, almost to himself, “I hope we can have more nights like this.”

The hum of the dorm fills the silence.

Until he adds, barely above a whisper—

“So… can you stay a little longer? I know its late but... I don't want to be alone right now."