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“I’ll kill you, icy-hot bastard!” Bakugou yelled, his voice ringing all throughout the classroom. Todoroki blinked back and said something along the lines of “Uh huh.” Ashido wearily pushed him out of the classroom before Bakugou could actually kill him. Near the two remaining students, Momo gasped and covered her mouth.
“Bakugou! Don’t call Todoroki such things and please stop threatening to kill everyone!” She protested. “You’re making me worried.”
Bakugou whipped around and glared at her fiercely, only to calm down a bit after seeing her face and shoved his hands in his pockets. He was still grumbling curses and names, but at least he wasn’t running down the halls setting fire alarms off. Momo sighed and Ashido smiled from the doorway and examined how fast he relaxed at her tone.
“Funny how he went from lion to kitten just by listening to you,” she commented smoothly, though her smile was wide and mischievous. Momo’s cheeks erupted in red and she hastily jumped to her defense.
“It isn’t like that, Ashido!” She protested, only encouraging the pink girl’s antics.
“Really, ‘cause it sure looks like it!” She giggled, bracing herself for an attack from Bakugou who had balled his hands into fists so tight they looked white. Momo stepped between them, very anxiously guiding Ashido away from him. She whispered something to Momo before she left, and Momo had to arch her neck to hear, it was so quiet.
“He totally likes you.” She laughed, skipping out like what she said was nothing. Momo froze and clamped her mouth shut, heart roaring in her ears. Bakugou surprised her by scoffing loudly from afar.
“I’m gonna kill that bastard,” he snarled and Momo laughed anxiously.
“I wouldn’t recommend that, Bakugou,” she advised gently, he only made a ‘tch’ noise and looked to the side. “Please, you look worked up. Let’s go outside, okay?”
“Fine.” He grunted, Momo smiled kindly and patted the shorter boy’s shoulder, noticing the way his normally terrible posture went rigid under her touch and she flushed heavily. Why was she so awkward around him? She wasn't like this normally, so what was it? A crush was out of the question, he was her polar opposite.
Explosive (quite literally) and hot-headed while she liked to think of herself as composed and leveled. But here she was, treading lightly next to him and acting like a performer before the curtains opened.
It couldn’t be a crush, right? But then his hand slid from his pocket and brushed her own, she considered the possibility of mild attraction.