all you gave me was indifference

any random psychopath could crawl through here, he’d tell you with a scowl. he might soften up, though, if you tell him that you’ve only left it open for him. 

but tomura is not here, and it’s cold without his body next to yours. 

he told you he’d be back. he’d promised.

still, you can’t help but worry. you never can, knowing he’s out there in the night fighting for his cause. 

you know he’s a villain. he tries to spare you the gritty details of his work, not wanting to taint any of the precious time you spend together. he wants to protect you from that world, that side of him. you don’t ever hold this against him. you just take whatever time with him you can get. 

the first time you met, you found him injured in the street and took him in like a stray cat. and like a stray cat, he was defensive and hostile at first, but something in you gaze, in your soft and yet stern voice telling him to “hold still” as you cleaned his wounds, made him do as you said. your kindness to a stranger—to a villain—had astounded him. you didn’t know who he was, but even when you found out months later, it didn’t change how you felt about him. 

he stayed with you that night, bloody and broken. he’s stayed with you since. he comes and goes, of course, as his villainous agenda permits. but he always comes back to you, climbs through your window to crawl in bed with you. brushes the hair from your face and tells you that you look beautiful tonight, that you look beautiful every night. 

you try for a long time, but sleep doesn’t come easy. you’re in and out of consciousness, tossing and turning and utterly unable to get comfortable. you startle when the door opens, sure you’re dreaming when you see tomura standing there in the warm, dim glow of the hallway. 

you debate for a minute whether to get up and run to him, or if he’s even real or just a figure of your nighttime imagination, but he’s crossing the room with silent footsteps before you can reach any conclusion. 

it feels like your forms meld together when he wraps you up in his arms. you can’t even form words, taking in deep breaths and listening to the sound of his racing heart. 

it’s really him. tears begin to well up in your eyes, but you sniff and pull away to wipe your face before they can fall. now isn’t the time to cry. not with him here next to you. 

“i missed you,” you say, speech muffled into his shirt. it seems like such an understatement. you don’t tell him that you stay up most nights, waiting for him. that you go about your day, wondering where he is and what he’s doing. that you watch the news and sit on the couch, biting your nails and hoping you won’t hear his name if that means he’s safe. 

“missed you too,” he breathes, lips brushing your hair when he speaks. “y’ didn’t have to wait up.”

“couldn’t sleep,” you whisper back, leaning back on the bed when he finally releases you. tomura strips off his coat, toeing his shoes off and setting them down in the corner carefully. 

“i wonder why,” he replies sarcastically, huffing out a bitter little laugh. “wouldn’t have anything to do with your evil villain boyfriend, would it?”

you recognize his deflection, the barely-disguised self-loathing in his voice. the hunch of his shoulders, the way he won’t face you. it’s not the first time, and it’s probably not the last. but it didn’t bother you then, and it won’t now either. 

“you can’t scare me away, tomura.”

“you deserve better.”

he jerks a little under your touch when you come up behind him, arms snaking around his middle and cheek pressed up against his back. “what if i don’t want better? what if i want you?”

you feel him freeze at that, feel the muscles in his back contract under the thin fabric of his shirt as his body goes rigid. 

if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’d cry. but you do know better, and you know that same as you, he’s not going to cry here in front of you. 

he’s breathless, reckless when he grabs your face to kiss you. you feel the light pressure of eight fingers on your cheeks. it’s such a risk for him to touch you like that, both of you know that. but you don’t care, neither does he if it means he can be as close to you as humanly possible. 

his voice is somewhat choked when he finally manages to get words out. “i fucking love you. i don’t think i even know how to love, but i…you’re fucking everything to me.”

his words are rough, jagged around the edges, but spoken with such finality and genuineness that your heart jumps in your chest. 

you kiss him again, slow this time, breathing in the same air every time your separate for a moment before going back in for another. 

neither of you speak for a while, moving about in silence as you go to get back to bed. 

you and tomura fit like puzzle pieces, settled under the covers in comfortable silence. you revel in the sound of his heartbeat, tracing light patterns up his arm as your breathing syncs. 

“do you ever think about me when you’re away?”

his answer is immediate, like there’s no doubt in the world. “always.”

you smile into the dark, face buried in his shoulder and legs tangled up with his. your hearts beat in unison, falling into rhythm with the patter of rain against the window. these walls know no villains, nor heroes or civilians. it’s just you and tomura while the world storms on outside, oblivious to the two of you huddled away in the dark.