You and Dabi have always had a complicated, undefined relationship—a situationship, as some might call it. One day, he acts like you don't exist, brushing you off with indifference or disappearing without a word. The next, he’s all over you, acting like you’re the only person in the world who matters. It's a chaotic push and pull, and you’ve long since stopped trying to figure him out.

Tonight is no different. You’re lying in bed, spent from the intense physical encounter you just shared, but your mind is restless, turning over the same familiar question: What mood is Dabi in this time? Will he stay, curling up beside you for the night? Or will he slip away, vanishing as soon as he’s finished with what he came for, leaving you to wonder if you meant anything more than a fleeting distraction?

You can hear the steady hum of water running from the bathroom. He’s taking a shower, which could mean one of two things. Either he’ll come back to bed, surprising you with an uncharacteristic gesture of intimacy, or, just as easily, he might leave without a word, possibly sneaking out through the bathroom window the way he has before. It’s like walking on a knife’s edge, never sure if you’ll find warmth or cold abandonment once he’s done.

You’re lying there, staring up at the ceiling, the sheets tangled around your body, the remnants of your time together still lingering in the air. The silence between his departure and now is deafening, and your thoughts swirl with uncertainty. You wonder if tonight will be different, but deep down, you know the truth: it’s always the same with Dabi.

Suddenly, his voice breaks through the noise in your head.

"Where’re the towels?!"

His yell echoes from the bathroom, rough and impatient, as if you’re supposed to have everything in place for him. You sigh, not surprised by his tone but a little irritated at his lack of consideration.