Chapter Text
Soft light wakes Momo. It’s early, only five or six in the morning. Outside, the muffled sounds of birds singing echo in the air. Their songs blend with the distant rumble of Tokyo as the city slowly awakens.
Momo’s eyes flutter open; her vision is still blurry from sleep. She’s used to waking up early; her job as a hero requires her to work odd hours, but it's unusual for her to get up before her alarm on days off.
Momo blinks slowly as sunlight streams in through the window and over the wrinkled cotton sheets, under where she lies naked in the arms of her fiancée, Todoroki Shouto. Momo’s heart stutters.
The word still sounds strange in her mind.
Surreal.
Only yesterday, everything had been different and, yet — exactly the same.
She stares at him.
The rising sun hasn’t yet touched Shouto’s profile, but he is radiant. His red and white hair, as luminescence as moonlight and rubies, is ruffled from sleep, and she can feel his well-defined muscles underneath her fingertips. His face is softer than anything he would ever allow during the day.
As Momo watches him, she runs her thumb over the ring, now encircling her left finger, making sure the band hasn’t fallen off. The night before, an irrational fear had welled up inside of her that she’d lose the ring if she wasn’t paying attention; that she would wake up to find his proposal had only been a dream.
But it’s still there.
The white gold eternity band that Shouto had slipped on her finger as fireworks whined over their heads. It had been their fourth Enichii festival, and she hadn’t been expecting him to ask.
Her heart beats faster.
The diamond-studded ring feels almost heavy on her finger. It holds the weight of all their emotions and shared experiences. Even so, Momo isn’t used to wearing jewelry. She regularly removes anything a villain could use during an attack before going out into the field. But she can’t imagine ever willingly taking this off.
Her eyes trace along Shouto’s profile. She has long ago memorized his features: the definition of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw — that has filled out over the years — and the discolored mark over his left eye.
Her heart rises in her chest, and Momo is unable to stop herself as she brings her hand up and lets her fingers skim over his lips, making sure he is real. That this isn’t a fantasy.
Shouto shifts in his sleep, some of his red hair falling over his face as he stirs. Heterochromatic eyes blink open. “Momo,” he mumbles, before his hand, nestled along her waist, tightens, and he closes his eyes again, asleep.
Momo's lips twitch, and she reaches out and brushes his hair back before leaning in to kiss his temple.
She loves him.
She loves him.
She loves him.
Momo doesn't think she's ever said it aloud. Their relationship has never been one of words. Shouto is a man of action, and she has always taken his lead, too afraid the words that welled in her heart would cause a rift in their relationship, but it should be alright to say them now?
“I love you,” she whispers against his skin.
She feels her cheeks warm, and she ducks her head down, unable to contain the wide smile from forming on her lips. It doesn’t feel possible to be this happy. The three words she whispered moments before didn’t feel like they encompass even half of the love and adoration Momo has pounding in her heart for him, but they would have to do.
She nuzzles her face against Shouto’s chest, breathing in. He smells earthy, of cypress and musk. She closes her eyes and smiles as his arm unconsciously pulls her closer.
Heroes are supposed to be selfless — emblems of charity. But Momo hopes the world will allow her this one selfish wish to stay by Todoroki Shouto’s side forever.
She places a chaste kiss over his heart, closes her eyes, and dreams of their future.