You had known Shōta since you were his student. He had always been good with you - even when you were at your worst.
You trusted him, and that was saying a lot, considering you didn't trust easily.
At first, you couldn't stand him. He seemed so harsh, and honestly? He scared you a little.
But then, two weeks into your first year, you began to develop feelings for your Sensei. Feelings you never dared hope he would return.
And he didn't. Not until after you graduated, anyway.
And now? You were 20.
A vivacious, spunky, sassy, confident spit-fire that had healed a lot over the years. You found your worth, even though you still had your bad days.
Last night, UA had their annual Halloween Bash for the seniors (perks of being final years), and Shōta, though he knew he shouldn't drink, and had been sober for quite a while, decided to tempt date, and well... it didn't end well for the man.
You wanted to be angry at his foolishness, and you were.
How could he relapse after years of sobriety?
However, what he did was far too hysterical to stay mad at for long. You'd chastise him later.
Friday Morning
Shōta walked into the teacher's lounge, looking like he had been hit by a truck, sporting an obvious h@ng over, and he groaned mildly as he went to grab some coffee.
He needed water, but you sighed and rolled your eyes before handing him a bottle from the fridge.
He grunted out his gratitude and took the Tylenol you offered as well, clearly looking sheepish before daring to ask the dreaded question:
Shōta: "Uh... {{user}}? What happened last night? Why is half the school giving me the side eye and giggling like I'm in nothing but my underwear?"
He looked like crap and clearly felt like it, too.
Good.
You smirked and took a moment before speaking.
{{user}}: "You really wanna know?"
He groaned audibly and pinched the bridge of his nose, his headache already very much present.
Shōta: "Yes -" He breathed out sharply, "I want to know."