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“Thank you, Lord for another day,” you whispered a prayer, and smiled at the face coming into view when you opened your eyes. “Praise God.”
Up close, Kirishima's dark lashes beautifully shadowed his pale cheekbones. The morning light sliced through the thin curtains and spilled over his glowing skin. His scarred arms held you securely—caging you comfortably against his cushioned chest. The black Dynamight t-shirt hugged his muscular frame just right.
Kirishima adored it—since you bought it for him. Plus it was his best friend’s merch.
The redhead was used to sleeping shirtless, but when you spent the night—he knew to put on a shirt.
You were appreciated his thoughtfulness.
I feel blessed.
You took in his sleeping face and reached out unable to stop yourself, you traced the scar above Kirishima’s right eye with your fingertip.
Handsome, and mine.
Crimson-red hair spilled on top of the pale pillow in waves. You had braided it last night but it came loose as he tossed and turned.
You caressed his face with a feathery touch. “Pretty, ’Shima. My sleeping beauty.”
Kirishima slept like a rock—and snored like a truck when he laid on his back—sometimes.
The redhead loved to cuddle, and when he did, his grip was nearly impossible to escape. Not that you wanted to get out of his safe arms.
It had been overwhelming at first—the closeness when he embraced you during the night. That night you barely slept a wink—his touch was still foreign to you.
Kirishima ever the gentleman—had apologized for it earnestly—if he crossed any lines or made you uncomfortable.
You didn't mind but it was still something you had to adjust to; the both of you, as your relationship grew and blossom into something deeper.
Kirishima was your teddy bear. Altogether lovely. He was an excellent hero, a very sweet man, and good with kids.
“I love him, Lord,” you muttered, still admiring his face. “I wanna marry him someday.”
I want to kiss him, you sighed dreamily, shifting to get out of his grip. You lifted his heavy arm from your waist. I need to read my daily devotional—now’s a good time. I’ll make some coffee too. It’ll be perfect.
“Mornin’, baby,” Kirishima rasped out, his deep morning voice made your heart jump in your chest. You paused mid-escape. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good, great.”
His soft lips on your cheek, and the tender kiss on your forehead made your stomach flutter.
Your face grew warm at his adoring stare—his sheepish smile flustered you.
“Safe,” you added. “And you?”
“Good,” he said, humming in approval, and pulled you closer to cuddle more. Kirishima carded his fingers through your hair, and pecked your forehead. “I always sleep so much better when you’re here.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” You were elated at his confession. “It’s not me though—well, maybe a little,” you giggled, snuggling into his neck. “But prayer is powerful. I told you. Psalm 4:8 is perfect for sleeping—and Psalm 91 helped me when I was struggling with insomnia and anxiety.”
You prayed for him a lot—for his heart, for healing, and for his soul in general, that he may prosper in all his ways.
It was your heart’s desire that Kirishima would be successful and live a peaceful life.
Kirishima's job as a prohero was dangerous in general. It carried a heavy weight which explained why he was disturbed by dreams, and haunted by memories.
He suffered from nightmares occassionally.
Ever since high school but it started way back—middle school had one the most traumatic moments in his life.
Kirishima wasn't too fond of mentioning middle school.
“It made me feel like a failure,” he shared, eyes downcast, lips in a thin line. The atmosphere shifted and it was as if a dark cloud appread above his head. “Like... I wasn't fit to be a hero,” his eyes glazed over and he blinked. “I wasn't good enough and I still—”
Kirishima wasn't the same as his younger self, and it was wonderful to witness his growth.
“Eijiro your failures made you stronger than you've ever been,” you squeezed his hand encouragingly. “You didn't allow your past to define you,” you said with conviction giving a soft smile. “I love that you didn't give up on your dreams! It's the bravest thing one can do in the face all the odds and insecurities.”
“Very manly too,” you added with a giggle, winking at him. The sparkle returned to his eyes and you took it as a win. “You're an inspiration to your fans, and me! We love you.”
“You love me?”
“Uh,” you didn't mean to blurt out your feelings but now that it was brought to light you had to face it. Blushing bright red you waved him off. “No I said we!”
“Wait,” Kirishima raised a sceptical brow. He leaned back and straighten up. What left his mouth next made you speechless. “You think I'm manly?”
You scoffed in amusement reminiscing about the days before you dated, and how your love blossomed over time.
Kirishima was afraid of sharing a bed with you in the beginning.
He was the cause of his own scar.
His quirk awakening.
He didn’t want to harden accidentally—he’d done it before, ripping his shirts or pillows while having a bad dream.
Kirishima hummed bringing you back to reality.
“Thank you for praying for me, baby,” he said sweetly, kissing your hair. “I appreciate you.”
“You’re welcome, Ei,” you said, joy filling your heart. “Now let me go.”
“One last thing.” He smirked, a teasing glint in his red irises. “What was that about wanting to marry me?”
You hid your face in his neck and tried to pinch his chest but no avail. “Don’t hide. I can still see you.”
The scent of aftershave and spices tickled your nose. “Don’t tease me,” you grumbled. “Or I’ll change my mind.”
His chest vibrated as he chuckled, and you lifted your head, wearing a matching smile.
“I’m not teasing! I wanna marry you too.”