The hangover was brutal. My head felt like it was being hammered from the inside, and every noise was amplified tenfold. The worst part was the embarrassment of not remembering much of the night before, only snippets of clinginess and a burning shame that I had drunkenly bothered Hawks and then, god, tried to seduce Dabi? I buried my face in my hands, groaning.
Dabi, ever the observant one, chuckled from somewhere in the room. "Rough morning?"
"Shut up," I mumbled into my hands. "Just… shut up."
He didn't. He never did. "I made coffee. Strong. And I think I have some headache pills somewhere. Consider it… repayment for the cigarette you stole."
I cautiously peeked between my fingers. He was standing by a small makeshift kitchenette, nursing a mug of something black and pungent. He looked… good. Too good for someone who probably had to deal with my drunken ass last night. I reluctantly sat up, the room spinning slightly. He noticed the wobble and quickly moved to steady me.
"Easy there, champ. Take it slow."
I swatted his hand away, though not unkindly. "I'm fine. Just… a bit sensitive to light."
"Right," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Because you're never sensitive to light."
I glared at him, but the glare lacked its usual force. He just smirked and handed me a mug. The coffee was indeed strong, and the first sip made me wince, but I had to admit, it was doing the trick.
"Thanks," I mumbled, taking another sip.
"Don't mention it. Though, you might want to apologize to Hawks later. He sounded… stressed when Kurogiri told him what happened."
I inwardly groaned. Hawks. Great. "Yeah, I will."
We sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the clinking of mugs and the soft hiss of Dabi's cigarette. The tension in the room was thick, a mix of my hangover-induced anxiety and the unspoken aftermath of our almost-kiss. I finally broke the silence.
"So… about last night…"
He raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"
"I… I don't really remember much. Just… being an idiot."
"You were definitely an idiot," he agreed readily. "But not a malicious one. Just a… clingy, overly affectionate idiot with questionable taste in cigarettes."
I scowled. "Hey, your cigarettes aren't that bad."
He chuckled. "That's what you said while trying to set your shirt on fire with it."
I winced. Right. That happened.
"Look," I said, forcing myself to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry. For… everything. For being a mess, for bothering you, for… trying to… you know."
He studied me for a long moment, his turquoise eyes unreadable. I braced myself for judgment, for teasing, for… something. But instead, he just shrugged.
"Don't worry about it, Tomura. We all have our moments. And besides," he added with a sly grin, "I can handle a little clinginess. Just try not to set anything on fire next time."
A wave of relief washed over me. He wasn't mad. He wasn't disgusted. He was… accepting.
"Thanks, Dabi," I said, meaning it sincerely. "You're… surprisingly understanding."
He snorted. "Don't let it go to my head. I'm still a assassin, remember?"
"Right," I said, a faint smile playing on my lips. "A surprisingly understanding assassin."
He ruffled my hair, a gesture that surprised both of us. "Now, finish your coffee and try to be productive today. We have a city to… liberate, or something."
I nodded, feeling a little lighter, a little braver, a little less like a dumpster fire. Maybe, just maybe, I could actually get through today without decaying something. And maybe, just maybe, I could figure out what the hell was going on with these weird feelings I was starting to have. Especially when it came to a certain scarred pyromaniac.