Archive of Our Own

A HEROINE FOR A HERO Valentine's Day Special

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It had occurred to her that her boyfriend was not his usual self.

She paused, indulging the thought.

Boyfriend…

It was such a lovely word to refer to one's beloved in her opinion, a label she'd never bestowed on anyone, until now. She'd never informed him of this and they weren't even dating, but she secretly enjoyed using the term during her most private of thoughts.

They never really talked about this strange, newfound relationship they have, but perhaps it was safe to say that nobody could've guessed it would turn out this way. Even the two of them who used to be so intent on avoiding each other were not able to prepare for such a development. It happened so mysteriously, so suddenly—suddenly they found themselves sharing the same inexplicable thirst for battle. Suddenly they found themselves alone in the dark together, and suddenly they found they could actually tolerate each other in a way they both shared what they could not with the others. Then, suddenly, somewhere along the way, they've come to realize that something had always been there from the start (but deep inside she'd always been aware of the unexplainable force that drew her to him) so when it happened, they simply let it be, not bothering to fuss and talk about it, like how most people who were attracted to each other usually would.

Oh, she used to think about it a lot, used to think if it was a good idea to act upon the undeniable attraction between them and the feelings that came out of nowhere.

(Everywhere.)

But she'd always been selfish at the core, taking what could be taken, and so was he.

(They found – sought – each other's gazes on a certain day, and from that moment on they simply…knew.)

And so they absorbed it, accepted it, and went along with it as if it had always been that way. It's not like it was such a big deal, and it wasn't like anything major changed, either. They still go to class (sometimes together, sometimes not), still had their own schedules to live by, he still called her atrocious nicknames (though that had lessen significantly), and they still banter and engage in exclusive sparring matches. Though as expected, it was a big deal to everybody else they knew, making them the center of attention and object of discussion for many days. Needless to say, it took quite some time for the others to get over it but they eventually did, and everything went back to how they were.

Everything was absolutely normal. But at the same time, it wasn't.

She could feel it whenever they were together, the kind of pleasant, electrifying ripple of energy filling her with warmth and contentment. She couldn't tell if he was aware of it but sometimes, when he thought she wouldn't notice, he would steal a glance or two and his face would become less harsh, his red eyes containing a sort of contemplative vulnerability.

The only problem was, supposedly, was that neither of them acknowledged it on what and how it should be. They were certainly more than friends. They had embraced once, in fact, and recalling the memory had always made her smile. It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing but she remembered how warm he was, how solid. So pleasant to hold in spite of all his rough edges.

How she longed to have him in her arms again, but she respected his boundaries too much, knowing he wasn't used to physical affection just yet.

Sometimes, someone would ask, "Are you two dating?"

He would say, "You wanna die?"

And she would answer, "No. We are not."

And then they would ask, "Then why are you even together if you're not dating?"

She would echo, "Why?" and then she would chuckle. "Why, indeed..." And the discussion would end at that.

She found it funny why people were so bothered by the things that did not directly affect them. He and she were doing just fine and were comfortable with how things were. Maybe it would come off as uncanny to those who valued labels and commitments but for now, she simply wished to enjoy what she had with him, with what they have. Whether they were official or not, the fact remained they both knew they shared a similar regard toward each other, and that they were comfortable being around one another.

She relapsed into the current, bringing her gaze up to rest on his figure. All this time she was standing by the door, silently watching him. He was sitting on the floor with his back turned to her, right in front of the panels of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the school yard outside, the waning sunlight giving his frame a hazy glow. Seeing him in such a tranquil and undisturbed manner after being so tense the past week comforted her. She knew something was wrong with him these past few days and while he might not seem like it, he had this tendency of keeping up appearances, of wearing a tough front that threatened to blast away anyone who dared to mess with him; a front so terrifying and convincing that people would instantly believe nothing could ever hurt him when in fact, the things that wound him were not what came from the outside, but those that stem from within.

It took her a second to realize he had his shirt off. Her eyes unconsciously trailed over his back and she felt heat climb to her cheeks at the sight of his exposed upper form, perfectly toned and ribbed with well-defined muscles. He had always been attractive but the feeling of dizzying awe dissipated the longer she stared at him. He looked peaceful, but his shoulders were hunched inward, like he was protecting himself. That brought a painful twinge in her chest, her hand tightening around the white plastic bag she brought. He was isolating himself, and that was how she came to understand he was not his usual self.

While he had never really been the friendly engaging type he had no qualms being in the company of their classmates and friends. But lately he seemed to be distancing himself. He would refrain from eating together with the others during meals and he would avoid participating in the recreational activities and gatherings they usually held in the common area. It was like he was reverting back to those days after he was rescued from the hands of the League of Villains who wanted to make him into one of their own. He had outright denied the invitation, but he had never been the same after that.

She never wanted him to relive those sorrowful days again. She helped soothe him during those grim moments, which paved way for what they have now. But even with their developing friendship and growing intimacy, she knew he was keeping her at arm's length.

And she was okay with that.

She understood he'd want to battle his demons himself, that he was strong enough to overcome them on his own. She'd come to adore that part of him, that strength of spirit and brilliance of conviction that refused to let anything hamper him, grabbing his problems by the horns and telling them outright to "DROP DEAD!"

Those days were long gone, but the true battle wasn't over yet, and she knew it had something to do with his current behaviour. And so she sought after him, intent to be with him during these times of pressure.

It was already an hour after their classes ended and while the school's sparring room usually had at least a few others bustling about, today it was surprisingly just the two of them. She was thankful for this chance to be alone with him. His lone profile filled her with compassion and that longing compelled her to make her move. She chose not to say anything yet, waiting for him to notice her arrival from the sound of her footsteps and the soft rustling noise of the plastic bag.

Just as she expected, he jerked and instantly shot a ferocious look to where she was. He was definitely annoyed someone walked in on him but when he saw it was her, the scowl slowly morphed into surprise with a hint of relief, his drawn up shoulders slowly easing back.

"Oh, it's just you," he drawled with lowered eyebrows.

The way he spoke to her was one of the things that first changed between them. It still retained its sharp edge but it was definitely much gentler than how he spoke with the others. Overtime she was able to pick up each of his expressions and understood the meaning behind them, and right now although he seemed annoyed, she knew he was actually glad it had been her who suddenly turned up in this quiet space he made for himself.

"Good afternoon," she greeted back and he turned his head away. She sat beside him but kept a distance of about five feet in between, giving him a warm smile even though he wasn't looking at her.

(A moment of silence, a second of digesting the impact of each other's presence and what that meant.)

"How long were you around?" he asked, his eyes fastened to the scenery outside.

His question was more out of curiosity than suspicion, but to assure him had been her immediate reaction. "I just arrived, actually."

She knew how much he disliked being observed and studied. He used to snap at her in the past for infringing on his alone time, when he wanted to be left alone with his thoughts and writhing feelings. She realized he hated being seen with his guard down. He hated being vulnerable.

But that had been in the past. She saw the gradual change in his demeanor, the slight hitch of his shoulders settling down. It warmed her heart to see that he trusted her, maybe not completely, but just enough that he would relax in her presence. Though to her credit, she worked hard for that trust. It was no easy feat but she learned how to behave in ways that earned it.

"Were you spying on me?" he inquired indignantly. But it was half-hearted, a mere display of toughness to show her he was not at all taken aback by her sudden appearance.

"I wouldn't say spying," she replied, voice laced with amusement. Her gaze softened. "I was looking for you."

He turned his head at that and their eyes immediately locked on to each other. He looked mildly surprised, and perhaps a little angry for a disapproving dent formed between his eyebrows.

"What for?"

She remained silent, observing him. His gaze was a little unfocused in spite of his best efforts, confirming her suspicions that he hadn't slept properly for many nights. Something was definitely bothering him, something significant that threw him out of balance for days, and he was attempting to shut her out of it. While she understood how he would like to face his problems on his own, she would not have any of it this time. The faint shadows beneath his eyes told her that it reached even his dreams at night. Nightmares…

She moved without giving it another thought, unable to contain herself any longer. She leaned forward and closed the distance between them, and he instinctively backed away when she came too close. And yet he stayed rooted on the spot, too stunned and somehow reluctantly curious when she suddenly sat on her knees in front of him.

Wordlessly she raised her hands up to the sides of his face, and cupped his cheeks gently. This was the first time she touched him like this, the sensation making them inhale pointedly at the same time. The initial shock disappeared and she saw how his immediate reaction was to push her hands away, but he didn't.

Heat started to crawl across his face, the budding warmth seeping into her palms. He looked adorable, with his lips pulled into a tight line and his eyes fluttering like he was fighting from succumbing to it. She ghosted her thumbs over the skin below his eyes, just above the darkening skin from the lack of sleep, and chuckled softly when he shrank back.

"Wh—"

But she cut him off, her voice soft but unyielding.

"Something…is haunting you lately...and they come to you at night, don't they?"

His eyes widened, the look of baffled wonder fading away, replaced by a flash of distress and sparks of anger. He had told her he didn't want anyone's pity, much less hers, but as he stared at her looking him deep in the eyes, she saw how he realized that her question was born out of understanding.

(Belongingness.)

He didn't need to say anything, didn't need to explain himself, because she already understood.

(Because he had let her.)

Quickly he averted his gaze and huffed, his mouth twisting into a brooding frown. "And you said you didn't spy on me." He sighed, irritably in the most unconvincing way before shutting his eyes close.

She smiled. She ran the pad of her thumbs under his eyes, handling him with feather-light touches like he was made of delicate glass. She could tell he still found the gesture strange, but she hoped it was also comforting. That wasn't her intention, though. She simply wanted to add emphasis to her words but she enjoyed being able to touch him like this when she wouldn't be able to under any normal circumstance.

She added a little pressure, as if she could erase the shadows that lingered before aiming for his eyelids. He grunted but remained still and she murmured apologetically. A playful smile touched her lips when she traced her thumbs up to his eyebrows next, smoothing out the fine soft hairs. He squirmed and jerk from the contact, and when she added a little pressure, his nose scrunched up and a strangled choke of something deliberately suppressed escaped from his throat.

'Oh? Is he ticklish here?' She would've teased him a little more if he hadn't pulled at her hands that instant.

"Okay, damn it. That's enough!" He released her hands and turned away from her. Suddenly he became aware of his state of undress and hissed a quiet "Shit!" before fumbling for his discarded shirt and hurriedly pushing it down his torso with a red faced growl.

She snickered at his antics. It was another surprising and alluring side of him she had discovered. That in spite of his rough countenance and his I-don't-give-two-shits attitude, he was actually a pretty modest guy.

"Did you just come here to annoy me?" he grumbled over his shoulder. "'Cause it's working."

"Sorry, I couldn't help it." She slid back two feet away from him before reaching for the forgotten plastic bag beside her. "I was wondering where you went off to since you weren't in your room, but then I figured you'd be in the one place no one would think of being right now." She pulled two bottles of cold drinks out of the bag and extended one toward him. "The others are prepping for the barbeque tonight and they were really looking forward to the sweet and spicy Tonkatsu sauce you made last time. They told me to come get you for it, in fact."

He took the bottle and promptly twisted the cap off. "I meant to go back after a quick exercise. I lost track of time."

She hummed and lifted her bottle to initiate a toast. He obliged, and they took their first sip at the same time. It was silent again, and he seemed to be at peace. She didn't find the quiet to be just as soothing. She sneaked glances as he leisurely indulged the drink, her fingers fidgeting, her lips parting and sealing twice.

"It's not worth mentioning," he said, eyes fixed forward. "Don't concern yourself with it."

She fought to keep the flinch down and smiled, pleased that he noticed her concern and was being considerate of her, but saddened that he wouldn't open up about it. She longed to say, 'Please tell me. I care about you…I want to know.'

Instead, she answered in her most gentle voice, "I already am, but I won't pry."

It wouldn't do, letting her emotions get a hold of her when he was being like this. He always thought long and hard every time he decided on something so when he says no, that would be the end of that. Besides, he didn't need her prying, he needed her company. That was their foundation, their preference. He was comfortable with her just being there and that was all she could ever ask for.

With her eyes downcast, she missed the look in his eyes when they slid to look at her.

"Hey."

She turned to face him with her lips pressed upon the bottle's mouth, eyebrows slanted upwards to indicate receptiveness.

"I want to work an appetite."

She blinked and lifted her head. "I don't mind, but…" she paused, long lashes lowering slyly over dusky violet eyes, holding the kind of glint that had sparked many a spar. "I might exhaust you completely."

"Oh?" He took a swig out of his bottle and grinned wickedly with a fist swiping across his mouth. "We'll see who's gonna exhaust who."

She tied her hair up and followed him to the center of the room, her placid little smile mirroring the anticipation in his fiendish smirk. They began to circle each other, the distance growing smaller and smaller until he finally closed in and threw the first punch. She dodged with catlike ease and retreated as he threw another left. Adjusting, she pivoted and bent to pitch a hard left cross, the blow connecting with his midriff. He cursed, staggering on his feet and curling inwards, but his eyes held a flicker of approval as he renewed his guard.

She smiled. "0-1."

He lunged forward, starting off with a swift right hook, followed by a low leg sweep and a palm smacking downwards against her stomach once she was airborne, before finishing with a jab of his foot behind her knees the moment her feet touched the ground.

"2-1," he returned, smirking.

She coughed from the impact on her abdomen and immediately rolled away before another one of his foot-jabs could connect. Jumping to her feet she blocked a hit and slid across his range, blocking two more strikes and dodging a kick. She shoved a foot against his shin and followed with a palm driving forward but it was a feint and she sprang to thrust a leg out, the bare sole of her foot landing flat against his chest. He jumped away with a grunt and rushed up at her, his next move containing a force she felt before it even touched her. With a swift whip of her right forearm she was able to deflect the hit, deliberately allowing the contact. She saw his surprise and took advantage of his split-second pause as he re-calibrated his next move, turning in a half circle and closely following the direction of his momentum before clutching unto his wrist and arm.

She braced against his weight as if she was about to throw him into the ground – one of her favorite moves – but she surprised him by swiping a foot underneath one of his. His balance toppled but he was faster than gravity and he surprised her when he grabbed her by the arms and brought her down with him.

They crashed and fought for dominance, rolling twice and grunting with effort. They pushed and pulled and tried to pin each other down with every available limb but each strike was easily blocked and deflected by the other. Soon her grunts became puffs of amusement, and his glare of concentration turned wry. There was a warm flutter in her stomach, the heat climbing to her face as she became aware of something pervasive and invisible passing between them. She could feel it in the decisiveness of his touch and could see it in the fire in his eyes, an encompassing sensation she could only ever feel every time they exchanged blows, skills and energies, something that was theirs and theirs alone – a connection that went beyond words – the moment where there was truly no distance between them.

She rammed an elbow to his neck but he – just barely – caught it in his fist.

"You're getting slower," he snarked, the quiet rumble in his voice coursing heavily in the air between them like honey.

She chuckled, the sound coming out just as thick. "Is that so?"

She lets their momentum take him on top of her before digging her heel into the ground. In one fluid motion she had flipped their positions, knees and thighs pressed tight against both sides of his legs, keeping them closed. He reached to seize her but she caught both of his hands in hers, each finger slipping perfectly into the gaps of his own before she crossed them and shoved the intersection of his forearms into his collar bone. He cussed and made a huff of displeasure, struggling to dislodge himself from her viselike grips. She giggled and pressed closer, holding him down with all of her might.

"You look good down there. I can see why you like doing this." She pushed herself harder into the compact plane of his navel and leaned close, not stopping until their foreheads were only inches away. "Why don't we end it here?" she cooed sweetly. "I think I'm getting hungry..."

He stiffened, his disoriented snarl slowly melting away as he began to hold still. Their breaths began to mingle, as did the smell of salt, ripe apples, and a hint of mint and smoke. Their gazes held, his beautiful red eyes darkening with a quiet smolder, sending a sudden tingle down the length of her spine. It was getting hot from where they touched, the pliancy and tension oozing through their clothes. She wouldn't mind staying that way for a little while. But once again he caught her thoroughly off guard when he sat up with a force that knocked her backwards, shoving his forehead into her own and pinning her down on her back much like how she did to him just seconds ago, with their forearms crossed and anchored against her throat.

He grinned and leaned down with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Just as I thought. Bottom definitely suits you better, Thickbrows."

A thick bead of sweat slid down from his temple and fell on her chin but she paid it no heed as she looked up at him with open-mouthed wonder. 'He came at me instead of trying to break free…'

She smiled, eyes fond and twinkling as she gave his hands a flirtatious little squeeze. "I don't mind. As long as you're the one up there."

He reddened and scowled. "As long as you get that I wo—Shit. Get up."

"Hn?"

He released her and lifted himself off of her before grabbing her by the shoulder and hoisting her up. He had always been rough but his hand was gentle when he gripped her left arm, his thumb pressing just below the small red strip of broken skin. It was starting to bleed, tiny droplets of blood peeking out of the cut.

"Oh, I didn't even notice," she said, genuinely surprised and certain she got it from when they were grappling about. "It doesn't hurt one bit."

He gave her a look that indicated he didn't believe her and examined his nails, grumbling, "I knew I should've trimmed these fuckers earlier but I lost the goddamn nail cutter."

She leaned over and made a sound of agreement. "They've grown quite long. I'll lend you my nail cutter if you like."

He averted his eyes and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Fine. Later, then."

She nodded before reaching up to untie her hair. "Un, then I'll—"

He had reached out for her, hand going for her lower cheek and she stared at him, arrested, when she felt his thumb swipe assertively across her chin, its warm supple tip pressing lightly against the edge of her lower lip.

'Oh, the drop of sweat earlier,' she guessed as she felt a trail of moist residue, her eyes warming. It was another thing she discovered and liked about him. The way he was actually surprisingly courteous, conscious of righting any untoward offenses.

"Thank you," she said just as he took his hand off.

He appeared unaffected but the reddening of his ears said otherwise. "Let's get outta here, I'm hungry."

She smiled and stood with him. "Yes, let's."

---

It was already dark out by the time they made their way back to the dorms, the vestiges of the sun a tarrying spill of red-orange and honey-gold on the horizon.

"Tonight…if you have trouble sleeping, let me know. I have something that might help."

He frowned. "If it's some shady medicine forget it."

She puffed her cheeks. "I actually don't approve of taking medicine to help you sleep, you know. It's bad for the body and you might become dependent on it."

"Heh, this coming from someone who takes supplements."

"This is this and that was that," she retorted with great dignity. "And I don't want to hear that from someone who gave me a box full of them last Christmas."

"Psh." He slipped his hands in his pockets and looked away with a roll of his eyes.

---

As expected, his sweet and spicy Tonkatsu sauce was the star of the whole affair, surpassing their invisible classmate's traditional pickled vegetable garnish by a bowl. They practically begged him to make another batch and after a brief display of flattered bravado, he decided to humor them.

Some of their friends gathered nearby to get first dibs, relaxed and laid-back as they waited, until she came over to check on him. She kept her distance at first but gradually began to assist him, perceptive to what he might need and readily handing it when he needed them.

The incessant buzz among their friends did not bother them at first until...

"What do you think they were doing before they got here? They were all sweaty and glowy."

"I was trying so hard not to notice the bruises and scratches, but now that you mention it..."

"You guys really need to get your heads out of the gutter. You know they aren't like that."

"Yeah, they were probably sparring...Which is starting to look like some sort of love language to me."

"I just can't wrap my head at how they're together but not."

"I know and they're both such babes!"

"You should've seen the gifts they exchanged last Christmas. She gave him a box of high-grade ointment and he gave her pills."

"Pills!?"

"For her Quirk, dumbass."

With a ginormous tick mark throbbing on his head, he whipped around and roared, "YA'LL WANT YOUR SAUCE OR NOT? LAY OFF MY BUSINESS, FUCKWIPES!"

---

PING!

She smiled, rolled over and slipped out of bed, and brushed her hair before finally wrapping a shawl around her shoulders. Only then did she reach for her phone.

: [can't sleep. kitchen]

: [my my. a glass of milk wasn't enough? (っ´ω`)ﾉ(╥ω╥)]

: Seen – 10:58 PM

She giggled and grabbed the small paper bag by the door, quietly slipping outside and sending her next text as she made her way to the elevator.

: [on my way (ง ื⌣ ื)ว]

---

He was preoccupied by the time she arrived, wiping down the countertops and reaching behind the stove, fuming all the while with a string of curses falling from in between his gritted teeth.

"Who the hell was on kitchen duty? Are they fuckin' blind!? The grease here's thicker than the fucking weeds outside for fuck's sake!"

He swiveled with a glare the second he noticed her, huffed an "About damn time!" before strutting over to the sink.

"Ara. Were you planning to deep-clean the fridge too?" She took a towel out from one of the drawers and handed it to him the moment he finished washing the cloth.

"I already did that two nights ago." He wiped his hands dry before carefully hanging the towel beside the damp cloth on a rack near the faucet.

He walked out of the kitchen, glancing towards her before jerking his chin towards the front door. She followed, raising a curious brow.

"Oh? Why not here?"

"I don't wanna be around when the extras show up for a glass of water and scream 'sustenance'. Whatever the fuck's that about."

"Oh." Biting back a grin, she actively matched her steps with his strides, their shadows mingling into a singular form across the floor. "I think it's still quite early for that, but I agree."

She didn't want anyone to disturb them, either.

---

The night was placid but awake. Gentle winds combed through the trees like whispers, the sparse melody of crickets sounding like heartbeats. The air itself seemed to throb with energy, anticipation. It made her feel exposed, even when they were practically surrounded by darkness. Only the twin orbicular iron lamp posts illuminated their surroundings, bathing them in soft, yellow light.

They stepped out further into the front yard and sat on the bench. She placed the paper bag in her lap, reached for what was in it and placed it between them in the middle by their thighs.

"Here we are," she chimed.

He gave the object a suspicious stare. "What does this thing do?"

With a smile, she pressed one of the two buttons and the object whirred into life. Seconds later, a faint white mist rose out of a small screened opening, bringing with it a fragrance that warmed the air between them.

"It's a portable diffuser."

A quizzical frown appeared between his brows. "How exactly is that gonna help me sleep?"

"Through aromatherapy," she replied matter-of-factly. "Give it a few seconds and you should be ready to hit the hay before you know it. But first, you have to allow yourself to relax. Settle down and unwind your body, and the rest will follow."

He sank against the bench with both hands in his pajama pockets, bringing one leg up and resting an ankle over the top of his other knee. He sighed, flicking his eyes upwards but they were heavy, and she knew right then and there it wasn't because he was exhausted.

"As if I didn't try that for the past few days," he groused underneath his breath before adding in an audible, self-deprecating voice, "I'm already fucked. Let's have it."

"It'll work," she insisted gently, wondering how else she could help ease his worries.

(In the end, all she could offer was herself.)

A small sly smile curved her mouth as she noted the heaviness weighing his eyelids. She carried on, deliberately making her voice soft and slow. "It's quite effective. This really helped me whenever I had trouble sleeping, and I'm quite confident that it'll help you, too. It's very therapeutic. The essential oils converted through this diffuser helps calm the nerves and reduce stress. There's actually a lot of different types out there, but this one has a long-lasting timer that can run continuously for about 3 hours...or periodically for up to 8 hours so it's perfect for nighttime. It also has an auto shut-off system so you can leave it on, and not worry about it. The temperature is just right, and it doesn't give off a strong scent, either. It's very gentle and soothing, the aroma slowly wafting across the air, and...See, you're getting sleepy already."

He shifted his jaw and blinked hard. Twice.

"It's 'cause you were talking too much," he said, glaring.

"In any case, I have a spare so you can have this one for as long as you want," she offered. "The best part is that it doesn't produce a lot of noise, and it comes with a night light, too. Isn't it amazing? It's one of the many brilliant inventions of man!"

His eyes went from her sparkling ones down to the diffuser again, regarding it with a narrowed eye before bobbing his head in resignation.

"I'll take it."

She beamed triumphantly and slid the diffuser an inch closer to his side. "We can change the scent if you want. But lavender and chamomile are the only essential oils I have at the moment, I'm afraid."

He leaned closer to the wavy curls of mist and took a quick whiff. "Is that what this smell is?" he asked rhetorically. Then he lifted his gaze to hers with a teasing smirk. "Heh. Smells just like you."

"I'm not surprised," she responded sheepishly before reaching out to caress the diffuser's smooth surface. "It's my favorite scent. The chamomile, especially, and I often use it so I suppose the scent's become some sort of second skin." She brought her hand back to her lap and asked, "Well? Do you have a scent in mind? Something you'd like to fall asleep to?"

His face turned pensive. He didn't look at her when he replied, "This is fine."

"Are you sure? There are a lot of other essential oils and a combination of fragrances you might like. I have a lot of recommendations."

"It's fine," he repeated as he looked down and regarded the diffuser more seriously, the fringe of his hair nearly obscuring his eyes. "I don't wanna sleep to some other scent I'm not used to," he mumbled.

She didn't understand the implication until a few heartbeats later, warmth blooming in her stomach and flying up to spread across her face. She complied with a squeaky hum before she could even begin to control her reaction and frantically thought of something coherent to say, clearing her throat delicately.

"I-it's a good choice," she began, rapidly regaining her composure. "Lavender and chamomile have wonderful medicinal properties that help induce sleep hormones." She paused and smiled gently at his slouching profile, noting the signs of drowsiness seeping into his expression. "With this, you'll be able to sleep more easily, so you can go back to bed now."

She saw his shoulders hitch slightly, saw him pull a breath deep in his lungs, and saw him consider it, saw him leaning toward the response she anticipated.

And then he opened his mouth.

"I don't think so."

She looked at him curiously. A small part of her suspected what he was getting at, but the larger part of her didn't understand why he was getting at it when he should be off to bed, resting.

"Whyever not?" she asked.

"You really think I can fall asleep in there right now?" he retorted with an exasperated shift of his shoulders. "This thing barely makes a difference."

"That's because you have to allow yourself to relax first," she suggested, but his expression didn't budge. "Tell me, what do you usually do to relax? Do you even relax?"

He plucked his ankle off his knee and planted that foot on the bench, huffing, "'Course I do. I go to bed the same time every damn night and I even read and listen to fucking instrumentals and shit."

"Oh." Her brows lifted, the corners of her lips quirking upwards. "Really? What do you usually read, then?"

"Our lessons, what else?"

"I see…!"

"What the fuck's so damn funny?" he snapped.

"Nothing." She pressed a hand on her mouth, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "It's just that…well…" A small giggle escaped her.

"What!?"

"I say this with all the love in my heart…" she forced amidst the bubbling laughter in her throat, looking apologetic, "but you sound like a nerd."

"Aaahh!?"

She immediately leaned away with her palms barred in front of her, breaking into a fit of uncontrollable giggles when he advanced growling with his claws raised looking like he was going to pounce on her. Instantly registering that he was, she snatched the diffuser up and twisted away from the bench with an airless giggle just as his hands closed around the space she used to occupy.

She hopped three steps forward, twirled to face him, and abruptly sat down amidst the grass with her knees tucked beneath her, her long ice-blue hair and shawl fluttering down to conform around her frame like a settling pair of wings. She placed the diffuser on the ground, took her floral-printed shawl off her shoulders and laid it on the grass a few feet before them. She patted the fabric down, made a sound of approval, and crawled over to one side of it before folding her knees against her chest.

She patted the vacant space beside her and looked up with a warm, steady smile.

"If you don't want to go back yet, why don't you sit here with me and relax for a bit?"

He stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable in the dimness. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he blurted out, eyeing the shawl with distaste. "That thing's too small!"

She pouted. "It's not like we're going to sleep out here. Just come."

She patted the shawl once again and he relented with a "Tch, whatever." and sat cross-legged facing the diffuser directly in front of him with one hand cradling his chin.

"There," she commented in a satisfied tone. "It's not so bad, is it?"

He mumbled a few colorful choice words which she prudently ignored as she affected a contemplative air, bending forward to press the diffuser's 'light' button and smiling when it emanated a light blue haze.

"Do you know why I love lavender and chamomile so much? Not only are they an effective combination, but they both have such interesting facts and stories behind them." She turned to entreat him with her eyes warming at the edges. "Shall I tell you?"

(A means to an end.)

He sighed and ruffled his hair. "Do what you want."

Thoroughly pleased with herself, she made herself comfortable and waited a full five seconds before speaking. "I'll start with chamomile. It's actually one of the oldest herbs and considered as an ancient healer dating back to the sixteenth century," she started in an even, lulling voice. "Such a simple and sturdy plant. So full of history, so precious...The smell, especially. It couldn't be more different from an apple tree, but curiously enough they have the same smell. I think that's why the ancient Greeks named it as such. Chamomile means 'apple from the ground' in Greek, you see, from the words 'chamái', meaning 'from the ground', and 'mḗlon', meaning 'apple'. How I adore chamomile. My favorite tea and scent, all in one herb…"

He had shifted unto reclining on left his side, back turned to her as he faced the plethora of fir trees surrounding the dorm with his head propped casually on his left palm.

'Just a little more…'

"…On the other hand, lavender is often said to be the queen of medicinal plants," she continued, trying to keep the amusement from leaking into her words. "It goes way back in the ancient times, just like the chamomile. The ancient Greeks love it too, and frequently used it to treat common illnesses like stomachaches and headaches, and even use it to clean wounds. But it's the ancient Egyptians that really made an impact on me. Do you know?" she asked, leaning towards him with a conspiratorial whisper. "They use lavender during the mummification process to perfume the corpses."

"What the fuck!?" he exclaimed, snapping his head to look at her. "Why the hell would they bother making a corpse smell better!?"

She giggled throatily at his dumbfounded face, conceding the point with a cheerful, "Because they're able to mask the smell of death?"

He cringed. She giggled again, softly this time. "I think it's also because of pure sentiment, something to do with lavender as a symbol. That's because in the language of flowers, it means silence and serenity, devotion…I think it's a suitable farewell token for those who are consigned to eternal rest. It even has a lullaby. It's an English song, but shall I sing it to you?"

(Half of the suggestion was meant as a tease, and the other...)

He didn't answer right away, looking surprised and then contemplative. He huffed through his nose and turned away, settling back down on his side.

"Just don't suck."

And so, with a pout that eventually diminished and for the first time in years after her brother's death, she sang a lullaby:

lavender's blue, dilly dilly,
lavender's green,
when you are king, dilly dilly,
i shall be queen

who told you so, dilly dilly,
who told you so?
'twas my own heart, dilly dilly,
that told me so

call up your friends, dilly, dilly
set them to work
some to the plough, dilly dilly,
some to the fork

some to the hay, dilly dilly,
some to thresh corn
whilst you and i, dilly dilly,
keep ourselves warm

lavender's green dilly, dilly,
lavender's blue,
you must love me, dilly, dilly,
because i love you…

She flushed at the last stanza but persisted with steadfast efficacy. And when she reached that particular line again, she sang with the cadence of meaning it with all of her heart.

you must love me, dilly, dilly…

…because I love you…

She couldn't see his face, and there were no visible signs of his reaction but he had grown very still. He appeared relaxed, unbothered, but she could feel the sense of sharp interest shrouding his form like an invisible mist. It felt as though his eyes were boring into her, seeing everything, without even really looking at her.

Biting her lip, she eased down on her back with her feet pointing opposite from his, their heads side by side. He shifted a little then grew stiff again, and it was a good thing he couldn't see her face for she was smiling so widely that he'd surely berate her for it.

She attempted to carry on as casually as she could, even as her heart pounded with a force that made her want to press herself against him. "Such a nice herb, isn't it? And I think I'm beginning to see it as a favorite flower now, even though it actually belongs to the mint family…"

A tiny yawn escaped him, sending a prickling surge of affection that made her pulse quicken with the need to embrace him, to wrap him in softness and to feel him breathe against her chest, to soothe him with her hands until he finally falls asleep in her arms.

That wasn't presently possible, of course, and she heaved a deep, forlorn sigh, and concentrated her gaze on the dark star-littered sky.

"What?"

Instantly recognizing the tinge of concern behind the brusque query, she flashed him a smile and laced her hands together across her waist. "…I was just thinking how nice it would be if we have a small lavender garden out here. Or even just a patch of wild chamomile. The yard's quite big, but would the school allow it? Probably not."

He scoffed. "Well no shit. We're not staying here forever."

She looked away with a poignant smile, right hand sliding away to rest beside her head. "Right…Gardening should be the farthest thing in our minds right now."

She didn't believe the future was as bleak as it looked, but it was definitely uncertain. They were hanging on a precarious balance of wills, smack dab in the middle of a relentless tug-of-war not only between the white and black of good and evil, but the grey in between it all.

(Which was why she treasured these little moments, these precious interludes.

But just how long would things stay this way?)

He sighed through his nose before promptly plopping on his back, bending his long legs and pushing his feet against the edge of the bench as he placed his left forearm over his forehead.

"So what? If you wanna plant something just put it in a damn pot and take it with you."

His blunt rejoinder cut through the fluttering clamor in her heart, making her grin and laugh in spite of herself. He always had a way of pulling her back into the present, much like how he always had a way of driving her into the abandon where only the two of them existed.

(Like now.)

They descended into the heart of a quiet pleasure she only ever felt with him. She knew it before, but she was experiencing it profoundly this very moment. The turning and writhing of her own emotions…quelled…just by being with him.

She felt his stare but it was brief, like the kiss of the wind. He slid his folded forearm over his eyes, and suddenly she felt the tips of his hand reaching for the side of her palm, ceasing the subtle trembling of her fingers. She wasn't even aware of it until he had touched her.

"How strange," she marveled quietly. "I'm not even cold."

"I know."

There was so much contained in those words. So much meaning. A significance she didn't fail to recognize.

As silence fell upon them again, she became acutely aware of the warmth that came from where their hands touched. It was a mere brush of their fingers but it was enough to make her cheeks burn and her stomach flip, her skin greedily absorbing the sensation.

He was never one to initiate gestures of affection but it warmed her to think that he did it for her sake. He wasn't holding her hand like how a lover does as a sign of loving reassurance, but it conveyed the message of what he intended to say, of what he wanted her to know.

(We'll win. Together.)

"We should probably get back inside soon," she whispered.

He made a quiet grunt that she took as agreement but just as she expected, neither of them moved to leave for the civilized comforts of their own beds.

She turned her head to look at him, eyes assessing, caressing. He appeared to be dozing off already, his chest rising and falling steadily, emitting soft exhalations through his parted lips.

'…I'm here if you ever want to relax again,' she thought, and turned pink when she heard and felt the sentiment slip past her mouth.

"If I feel like it," came his belated reply, the sound of his elusive rough-soft voice music to her ears.

She smiled and anchored her pinky tightly against the back of his knuckles, her eyelashes descending over glittering eyes.

They were not dating, and contrary to what everyone else suspected there were no 'I love yous' and romantic kisses, and there really wasn't even a confession. But the time they spent in each other's company were the moments where they felt they were more than just heroes-in-training with the weight of the world on their backs, that it wasn't just Him and Her, but Them.

'You have me,' she realized earnestly with a touch of wonder.

(And fear.)

But there was no turning back. She was his in every shape and form, even when he didn't know it yet, even when promises were lost on them, even when their tomorrows weren't guaranteed. Yet she hoped and prayed with all of her heart that he'd still be there, tomorrow and the days after that.

They were wrapped in the dreamlike warmth of togetherness, staying that way for as long as they could. And with her eyes closed, she didn't see it.

But for the first time in a long while, he smiled.

---

look how you made your way
wasn't it worth the wait? look all around you
lucky I found you

(trust by alina baraz)

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