TWENTY NINE

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What is this feeling?

"Do you want coffee, baby?"

I sat bundled up in a blanket on my couch like a cocoon, watching my shirtless man walk around in my kitchen, his joggers low on his hips.

"Uhm, yeah sure. The beans are in the top left cupboard." I replied, face buried in my knees.

Why does this seem so natural?

I was extremely tired this morning. Last night having been punished for taking control of him.

But besides that, most of yesterday was like this too. Sweet. Home-y. It felt like he actually lived here.

I watched him intently as he made the coffee, admiring his back muscles and all his patterns as he moved. I could stare at him forever.

I assumed we were together although we never officially said 'boyfriend-girlfriend'. Maybe he just wasn't into labels. But he called me his girl, and at this point I don't know what else it would be.

A small laugh came from the kitchen, "Hey, ____, I actually have no idea how you like your coffee. What do you want in it?"

I lifted my chin and rested it on my knee, still sleepy and told him what to put in it.

"Will you hurry? I'm cold." I whined, missing his body heat.

My air conditioning had been blasting the past couple days because he was always touching me and that was a lot of warmth to handle in the summer. Now I was freezing.

He walked over with two mugs in hand. Handing me a plain black one and he had a Tokyo one with fancy bright designs around it.

"Why do you get that one?" I frowned.

"Because I made the coffee."

I opened my mouth to argue but closed it, knowing he was right. He plopped down next to me, sinking the sofa cushion. I scooted closer to him, pressing my shoulder and thigh against him.

"You're so clingy." He laughed.

I took a long sip of my coffee, impressed how well he made it, "I'm going to say that every time you put your hands on me and we will see who is worse."

"Alright I take it back." He wrapped his free arm around my waist while sipping his drink.

Dabi and I had known each other for over a month and a half now. It felt like much longer than that though.

I would've never believed the stranger I brought into my house to fix up his wounds weeks ago would be cuddled up next to me early in the morning after making me coffee.

I looked up him. His hair was down, hanging low around his bright blue eyes. I liked it down.  I reached up and ran my hands through it, he just closed his eyes in response, letting me know he enjoyed it.

"When's the last time someone's played with your hair?" I questioned, putting my drink down and positioning myself better so I could keep doing it.

He sighed, "It's been a long time."

His words were laced with sadness, so I decided not to pry. Instead I just kept running my hands through his black locks, wondering what it would look like if they were all white.

When my arms got tired, I leaned back on the couch. Still wrapped up in my blanket.

Dabi glanced over at me.

"Hmm?" I hummed.

"It's just, you're very, uh, pretty." He scratched the back of his neck.

I let out a loud laugh, grabbing my stomach.

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