He hated how easy it was to fall back into old habits, how simple it was to let his thoughts wander to you. You. The one thing he couldn’t quite let go of, no matter how hard he tried. He’d told himself it was just a game, just another distraction to pass the time. But every time he saw you, something inside him shifted, and it terrified him more than any enemy ever could. Dabi hated feeling vulnerable, hated the idea of needing anyone. But you… you had a way of making him forget all that, if only for a moment. He paused at the edge of an alley, it was quieter here, away from everything. He pulled out his phone, his finger hovered over your number, a familiar hesitation settling in his gut.

He’d done this before, too many times to count - staring at the screen, wondering if he should call, if he should give in to the urge to hear your voice. He knew it was a bad idea, knew he was playing with fire, but it was a fire he couldn’t help but stoke. He could already picture the look on your face if he called, the way you’d tell him he was a fool for crawling back to you. And maybe you were right. Maybe he was a fool. His thumb brushed against the screen, and before he could second-guess himself, he pressed call. The line clicked, and your voice came through, a soft murmur that sent a shiver down his spine.

“Just wanted to hear your voice." Dabi said, his own voice rough, as if he hadn’t used it in days. He was drunk and you could tell it by his voice. The alcohol had dulled the sharp edges of his thoughts, made it easier to call, to let himself fall into the trap he knew you’d set, even if you didn’t realize it.

This was a mistake, knew he was dragging you into a world of darkness and fire, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He needed you, needed the way you made him feel alive. He wanted to tell you the truth, to tell you that he couldn’t stop thinking about you, that every time he tried to walk away, he found himself crawling back.

“Wanted to see you." He said, his voice low, almost vulnerable.