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Y/N L/N.
It rolled off Midoriya's lips constantly now, like he knew you personally. And in his mind, he did — he'd figured out enough about you when he'd met you that day about two weeks ago. It was enough that it kept his fantasies fueled in hopes of seeing you again.
And if there was anything that he'd learned from romance novels, it was that a meeting would be produced organically if it was fated to be something real.
The problem? He was losing hope now, and it'd been two weeks.
He should've asked for your name while you were in the bookstore, he should've written his number down in one of the books, he should've tried to ensure that you would come back to see him — but he did nothing.
He didn't want to look you up, despite having your name, because he needed a sign that it was actual chemistry between you, and that he wasn't being delusional like he always was.
But the problem with that idea was that you wouldn't leave him alone. He'd see you out of the corner of his eye and then you'd disappear. Whether or not it was his imagination was a different story, but he knew the fact that you wouldn't leave him alone had to mean something.
Which is why when he saw you stumbling out of a bar one night, he felt his chest flutter.
The universe had given him his sign.
You, on the other hand, were struggling.
Struggling not only to stand up and take easy steps away from the bar, but also in trying to get your head to wrap around what'd just happened. Your heart was in your throat as you stumbled out of the bar barefoot, with your heels in hand. Gripping the edge of your dress tightly, you walked out onto the rough sidewalk — trying to give yourself a chance to breathe something other than the stuffy air of the building.
The world around you was spinning and blurred, though you could make out the flickering street lamps that sat at the sides of the street. Everyone who passed ignored you, in typical public fashion, unconcerned with the strange, drunk girl who looked like she was about to pass out on the sidewalk.
Goddammit your head really hurt. What was in that drink?
You swayed forward anyways, trying to get as far away from the door as possible before it was opened again.
But in your heavily drunken state, you were only able to take a few steps before the door opened and you heard the man call out from behind you.
"Hey! You were asking for it you bitch! You sat there with all that makeup caked on trying to impress somebody — and then you pushed him away the second he came!"
"Shut the fuck up!" you swung back around at his words. "I didn't ask for you to buy me a drink! I literally said no and you kept insisting! You kept fucking pushing so I had to say yes. But that doesn't mean I'm automatically gonna sleep with you!"
