You sit curled up in the corner of the common room, a book in your hands, the quiet of the evening wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The flickering light from the lamp is soft against the darkening sky outside, and for once, everything feels peaceful.

The door creaks open, and Aizawa enters, the usual weariness in his eyes softened. He doesn’t speak, just walks over to the couch, settling down with a book of his own. He catches your gaze briefly and silently hands you a warm cup of tea. His eyes don’t linger, but the gesture is enough to make your chest warm.

You sip the tea, its warmth soothing, and settle back into your own book. The silence between you is comfortable, not awkward, as the only sound is the occasional rustle of pages turning. Aizawa’s presence is steady, grounding, like he’s right there with you, not needing to say anything at all.

In this quiet moment, you feel at peace, not alone, just two people, sharing the calm of the evening.