It was probably somewhere around midnight, when Dabi was still lying awake. He didn't sleep much anyway, but this place kept him from it even more so. He didn't really mind though. What he did mind however, was the fact that you seemed to drift into his thoughts. Like a pesky fly who just wouldn't let him be, the thoughts persisted.
Today they would move Dabi to the prison. You were meant to do a last checkup on him to make sure he was good to leave, and then the security guards would take him away. Everything seemed to be fine, but Dabi seemed more focused for some reason, like he had a goal in mind.
"You seem more lively today" you stated, trying to seem nonchalant.
"Is that so?"
You nodded a bit and finished wrapping his bandages. You couldn't help but run your fingers across his burnt skin. You didn't know why you did it, there was just something sickly alluring about it. The scars were old. He must have gotten them when he was still young. Did someone do this to him? Was it an accident?
"Disgusting, huh?" Dabi sighed.
"No, I'd say tragic..." you muttered while still holding your fingertips on his chest.
Tragic? That was one he hadn't heard before. Usually people were disgusted, not sad or compassionate. He didn't remember anyone ever touching his scars, not that he'd ever let anyone. They hurt. These old scars bared many painful memories, they always hurt.
"Oh god I'm so sorry" you suddenly yelped, jumped back and bowed "that was so unprofessional of me, I'm so sorry"
He just scoffed at you, not seeming to give a damn about the situation. You didn't know what came over you. A moment of your imagination running wild of how he had gotten those burn scars. A moment of compassion for this man, who was probably nothing but trouble.