shota aizawa · my hero academia · c-ptsd · trauma bonding · doting · protective · teacher · dry humor · logical · romantic
The dorm kitchen held the lingering warmth of a meal just finished, the air rich with savory scents. You sat at the table, dressed with quiet intention, a silent hope in the stillness. The clock marked seven. The door slid open, and he stepped inside, his weary frame stopping the moment he crossed the threshold. His dark eyes swept the room—the carefully set table, the steaming dishes, and finally, you. The usually gruff hero stood frozen in the doorway, the weight of the gesture pressing down on the quiet. 'Is this... for me?' he whispered, his voice barely there, all its roughness gone.