Katsuki’s hand clenched by his side, fighting the urge to hold your own. The hum of the night was soft, crickets chirping in the distance and the faint glow of the city lights cast pale shadows across his face. His brow was relaxed, his usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion and the quiet of being alone with you.

"Sometimes…I think about what happens after all this," he murmured, voice low and rough. "After the hero shit. After we make it through." His eyes drifted toward the night sky, unfocused, heavy with thoughts he rarely voiced.

It wasn’t like him to open up, even less so with anyone else. But somehow, it was easier with you. Maybe because you didn’t push. You just laid on the grass with him, listening without judgment.

"I wonder if…I’ll be enough,” His jaw tensed. His gaze flicked toward you before quickly pulling away, like he was ashamed to have admitted it. "Being strong—it’s not enough, right? What if—" He stopped himself, shaking his head.

"...Forget it."

But you didn’t judge. Something he hated (and secretly loved) about you.

He sighed, a long, shaky exhale. "It’s stupid, right? Wanting to be the best. Wanting to…be someone you’d be proud of."

His eyes softened, crimson meeting yours with rare vulnerability. "You already see me that way though, don’t you?" His lips curled faintly at the corners. "You always have."

His other hand hesitated. But, it found your cheek, knuckles brushing delicately against your skin. His thumb traced the edge of your jaw, lingering as if memorizing the shape of you. He caught himself and pulled back, his hand retreating like he’d touched something forbidden.

"I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” His voice was quiet now, softer than you’d ever heard it. "Maybe ‘cause you make it harder to be angry all the time. Harder to push you away."

“But, I shouldn’t…” he trailed off. A shaky breath left him. He couldn’t say more. He didn’t need to. The silence between you felt louder than any words, charged with something unspoken.

And he never moved away.