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chapter 8

❝ 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 ❞

↳ Before you knew it, time flew by, and the only thing you can see past the pitch blackness is the pure white snow.

"Hm, the storm doesn't seem to be letting up any time soon," Masaru comments as he looks out the window. True to his words, the snow is piled up to about a foot.

Bakugou turns on the t.v, and the news reporter's voice echoes inside the warm house.

"For the first time in ten years, the snow is piling up to a new high of three feet! It's not about to stop any time soon folks, so get out your blankets and huddle up! Next on today's..."

"(y/n), I suggest you stay for the night," Mitsuki sighs.

"Oh, but I couldn't!" you reply. Bakugou clicks his tongue.

"Just stay, cat eyes. You're so fucking tiny you'd just sink into the damn snow."

"Cat eyes? Did I just get an upgrade from homeless cat?" you laugh and he looks away with a scowl.

"Yes, please stay," Masuru adds. "I wouldn't sleep well if you left during this storm."

"...thank you," you smile.

"Are all parents usually this caring?"

"You're so nice it makes me wonder how Bakugou's your son..."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" the ash-blonde snaps. His mom wacks him on the head and hands you another cookie.

"Bakugou, go clean up your room and change the sheets. Let (y/n) sleep on your bed," she commands.

"Why the hell would I give her my bed?!" he scoffs.

"It's okay! I can just sleep on the couch. I don't mind!" you say.

"Nonono. I would give you the guest bedroom, but it's being used as a storage room for now," Mitsuki sighs. "Bakugou, go. Now."

Grumbling, he gets up from the couch and grabs your wrist. "You're helping me."

Without another word, he drags you up the stairs and into his room.

Contrary to your thoughts, his room is already pretty clean. The only things lying on the floor are some comic books and paper. His bed is neatly made, and no clothes are tossed around.

Trotting towards the inside of his room, you glimpse at his desk and see some textbooks stacked up.

Oh?

"I didn't think of you as the studying type," you mumble.

He clicks his tongue and pushes them to the side.

"I don't fucking study. I'm just getting first."

Smirking, you poke him in the chest and step back before he could slap you.

"You really don't like admitting that you put in effort," you tease. "But, I kind of admire that. You have a goal, and you're actually working towards it."

You give him a wistful smile before turning back into your usual self.

"Teach me these!" you point to the textbooks.

"Do you not go to school or something?" he scoffs. You look away awkwardly as you scratch your cheek, and he stares in disbelief.

"Seriously? What the hell?" he pauses, then walks dangerously close to you. "Oi, did you fucking lie this morning? You said you're in a drama club."

"I am. It's just not a school one," you lie again.

When he sees that you aren't looking away from his gaze, he steps back and grumbles, "Whatever."