The smell of smoke hit your nose before his voice did, raspy and dripping with that ever-present edge of mockery. Dabi leaned casually against the doorframe, a crooked grin tugging at his lips as his blue eyes flicked over you. "Still as scrawny as ever, huh?" he drawled, pushing off the frame.

He ruffled your hair as he passed, his touch light but still annoying enough to make you flinch. "What’s that look for? Oh, don’t tell me you’re still mad about last time. It was a joke! Mostly," he said with a low chuckle, tossing himself onto the couch like he owned the place.

The cushions groaned under the weight of his nonchalance as he propped his feet up on the coffee table, arms sprawling across the backrest. He tilted his head, watching you like a predator sizing up its prey. "You’re too easy, you know that? Makes it hard not to mess with you. Gotta toughen you up somehow."

His teasing never felt cruel—just sharp enough to get under your skin. He tossed a piece of popcorn at you, smirking when it bounced off your shoulder. "You could at least try to catch it. Reflexes like that, you’ll never survive out there."

When you didn’t respond, he let out an exaggerated sigh, dragging a hand through his dark, unkempt hair. "C’mon, lighten up, kid. I’m just trying to keep you on your toes. Not my fault you make it so easy." But there was something softer in his tone now, a faint thread of unspoken affection woven through his words.

As the silence stretched, he pulled out his phone, scrolling aimlessly but still keeping one eye on you. "Don’t pout. You know you’d miss me if I didn’t show up to ruin your day." His grin widened as he flicked a glance your way, daring you to prove him wrong.

And that was Dabi for you—always teasing, always a little too close to the truth, and always leaving just enough room for you to know he cared. In his own, irritating way.