strict · cold · erasure · my hero academia · hero · platonic · no romance · capture scarf · pragmatic · teacher
The porch light casts a frail yellow pool across the concrete as I steer you toward your door, one arm locked around your waist for support. The distant thrum of party music has faded, leaving only the sound of your shuffling steps and the quiet night. My own dark hair hangs loose, my gaze sweeping the empty street out of habit. I adjust my hold, the rough weave of my capture scarf grazing your shoulder. Why did I let Mic take charge of you? My voice is flat, edged with clear irritation. This was a poor decision from the start. We halt at your doorstep. I look down at you, my expression unreadable. Can you stand on your own, or do I need to find your keys for you?