Chapter Text
You’re awakened by the sound of harsh footsteps outside your bedroom. You instantly sit up, clinging your blanket to your chest as if it’s a protective charm, your vision still adapting to the darkness surrounding you while you frantically look for something to use as a weapon. You rush to disconnect your night lamp’s cord from the power socket, prepared to throw it at whoever is inside your house.
You try to listen for footsteps over the throbbing of your rapidly beating heart, its pulsation echoing in your eardrums. Suddenly, the footsteps are getting louder, closer to your room, accompanied by a man’s groaning. Your panic grows within you, and you try your hardest to keep your breathing as quiet as possible.
Then the doorknob slowly starts to turn.
You scream as you throw the night lamp with all of your strength the moment the door opens, hastily getting out of your bed to put some distance between you and the burglar.
“Ow! That hurt, god damn it!” The man shouts, hands massaging his ankle. You freeze, unsure of how to act, adrenaline still pumping in your veins. Then, you recognize the messy black hair, and exhale loudly as you fall onto your bed.
“Damn it, Dabi! You scared the hell out of me!” You breathe out, holding your hand to your chest. “How did you get in anyways? I locked the door!”
“A lock isn’t enough to stop me, princess.” He says confidently, a smirk on his face now that he has regained his composure. You look up to his face, squinting as you notice a dark shadow around his eye.
“Are you-” You get up to turn on the light before facing him. “Dabi! What happened?” Your hands move to touch his face, covered in small cuts and bruises, keeping your touch gentle around his black eye.
“Oh you know, the usual.” He answers nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. You look at him angrily, ready to shout at him for his idiocy, but you force yourself to stay calm.
“Sit down. I’ll go get the first aids kit.” You don’t dare to look at him before you rush towards your bathroom, wondering inwardly why you’re still friends with him when all he does is get himself in trouble. A sigh escapes you when you pick up the kit, remembering all the other times he stumbled into your room, wordlessly asking for your help. Until now, however, he had at least had the decency to not break into your house while you were sleeping.
But then, I guess he must be in a really bad state if he decided to come here , you think while wetting a small towel. You make your way back into your room and sit in front of him, your white towel getting slowly stained red as you clean his small cuts. You put some band-aids on top of the deepest ones, your eyes searching for other wounds. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“I’m fine, princess.” He says, but then proceeds to lift his arm and ends up wincing. “I mean-”
“Take off your shirt.” You command, already guessing the source of his pain.
“Well if you wanted to get me undressed you could have just-”
“Dabi.” He looks at you playfully but you won’t let him amuse you. You stare at him until he lifts up his shirt and removes it, revealing a big purple bruise on the side of his rib cage. It pains you to look at it, for you know how much it must hurt him.
“Shouldn’t you go to the hospital? What if it’s broken?” You inquire, already standing up to drive him to the nearest hospital. “It looks really bad.” He stops your movements by grabbing your wrist.
“Relax, will you? It’s not broken. Trust me, I would know.” Would he, though? You’re not sure if you can trust his words and you start to get antsy, trying to move around despite him keeping you pinned to the same spot. “Trust me.” He says as you open your mouth, about to speak again, but his assertiveness keeps you silent.
“Ok,” you concede. “let me get you some painkillers.” He lets go of your hand and you walk to your kitchen, bringing back the pills and a glass of water. “Take these and go to sleep. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.” You’re about to leave when he grabs your wrist again.
“What are you talking about? You can sleep here. There’s plenty of space.” You look at his eyes, unsure.
“But-”
“No buts. C’mon, I promise I won’t touch you.” He says, his lips curved into a smirk, and despite everything, he gets you to smile.
“I would kill you.” You threaten playfully, walking to the other side of your bed, the moon now the only thing giving your bedroom any light.
“Well, you would try.” He answers as he lays down, still in his stiff black jeans. You wish you had something more comfortable to give him, but your sweatpants would surely be too small.
“Shut up and go to sleep.” You lay beside him, now nervous for a different reason. Yet, the moment your head hits your pillow, your body is so tired from all the stress that Dabi put you through that you fall asleep almost instantly.
You wake up some hours later, moonlight still flooding your room. You open your eyes to see Dabi’s hand on top of your pillow, centimetres away from you. Your gaze moves to his face, and you notice that the skin surrounding his eye has gotten darker. Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes as you imagine that one day, he’ll be hurt so badly that he won’t be able to get up and stumble to your house. Or worse. Maybe his eyes won’t open at all.
You force these thoughts out of your head, gently wrapping your pinky around his in a whispered promise. “Please, Dabi.” You say quietly, watching his chest slowly rise and fall along the rhythm of his breathing. You close your eyes, thanking the universe for bringing him safely into your home before you fall asleep.
When you wake up in the morning, you’re alone.