uno - todomomo

x 33 ~ wait, what? || momo

(three weeks later)

In Momo's eyes, it wasn't a big deal. Okay, yes, it was kind of a big deal, but she hated seeing it as a big deal for multiple reasons. For one thing, she was barely having any lingering trauma from the event and for another, she just hated people treating her like she would have a mental breakdown at any moment. Sure, it was a tough experience to go through and Momo would never wish it on anyone nor would she want it to happen again, but when most of your thoughts are consumed by schoolwork and a guy, it makes it easy to forget about old bruises and sour memories. It actually only made it worse when people kept asking her if she was okay and bringing it back to the surface of her memory.

It was almost infuriating because the only people who didn't treat her like a porcelain doll were Todoroki and (unsurprisingly) Bakugou, who, despite knowing the seriousness of Momo's situation, figured she wouldn't want people walking on eggshells around her. That and sensitive wasn't really his style. But Momo was ever-grateful to him for it.

However, despite her actually being reliatively fine about the whole thing, there were still some signs if you bothered to look close enough. For instance, she hadn't worn anything but leggings in the past three weeks even when the bruises were basically gone and she outright refused offers to go out. Even if it was something as simple as going to a bar or going dancing, she decided against it, making the wise decision for her own personal safety. She still went to lunch with her friends and visited them, but she figured better safe than sorry. Plus, those places weren't really her scene anyway.

If one looked closely enough, they might see the small circles of sleep deprivation ringing her beautiful eyes and they might wonder if this was simply a side-effect of studying or if maybe there was something else behind it. And it was true that nights were the hardest for Momo. On many of them her mind drew her back to her parents, and on others, it brought her back to that night when it happened. But she always knew how to cope.

Mainly, she would play Uno. Ever since that first night when she met Shouto Todoroki in the kitchen of the girl's dorm room, she found that playing a game originally designed for children seemed to soothe her soul and ease her worries. That and the man who accompanied the colorful cards. She liked that they didn't have to talk about what happened. They didn't have to talk about anything. Or they could talk about everything. And either way, Momo was able to sleep easy on those nights.

She would also throw herself into schoolwork, studying herself half to death in preparation for even the least important of tests. She would study things she wasn't even required to learn. She would study until her eyes couldn't stay open any longer and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep. But some nights she didn't want to study. And when those unfortunate nights happened to collide with Todoroki not showing up at her door, she was alone. Just alone. With her thoughts. And sometimes she couldn't stand it.

So, she would pace around the room until such an hour that she expected that if Shouto Todoroki had been away from his home that night, that he would now be back. And then she would, with the guilt of possibly waking him weighing heavy on her mind, call him in the smallest hours of the morning.

When this happened she was being selfish and she knew it. She could hear the sleep dripping off his voice, making it deeper and throatier than its normal smooth texture when he answered the phone. She could imagine him rubbing his eyes and turning on the light groggily as a small, exasperated sigh left his lips. But she couldn't help but need him on those silent nights. And he never hung up on her. And he always picked up.

On those nights she would either engage him in a conversation about anything even if it was the most boring topic of conversation known to humankind just so she could hear his voice, or she wouldn't say anything at all and he would just know what she needed him to do. He always just knew.

Tonight was one of those nights. One of those empty, lonely, spiraling nights where Momo couldn't pull her thoughts away from the now invisible bruises, from the fact that her parents hadn't even called even after receiving a letter from the school, from her sister. From everything. Tonight was one of those nights that felt like it would never end, like the sun would never rise.

But, thankfully for her, it was broken in half by the sound of her door creaking open. A sleepy figure appeared in the frame of her door, his red and white hair slightly messed up by the memory of sleep, his think tank top stretched across his broad chest, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatpants as he looked at her with some combination of annoyance and adoration. She just gave him an apologetic smile as she peered up at him from her sitting position on her bed.

"You're lucky you're cute," He grumbled, his irritation half-hearted as he let himself fall into her bed, taking her with him as he wrapped a sturdy arm around her waist. She let herself lay down fully, tucking her body into his in a way that was just right. They seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces. Two broken, emotionally scarred, puzzle pieces. His arm fit around her waist like it was meant to be there and her fingers resting just under the sharp edge of his jawline felt like they had discovered a curve made just for them. And at their respective heights, if they still didn't view their relationship as frustratingly platonic, he could press a soft kiss to her forehead.

They were a near-perfect match. It was such a shame they couldn't see that.

She could feel him drifting back off to sleep and she was glad that it was so easy for him. If he'd been awake all night because of her the would've felt even more guilty than she already did. But Todoroki was a man who had just been force-fed shots after practicing football for what seemed like days on end. Needless to say, he was out like a light. Momo wasn't as she muttered a soft,

"Good night, Shotuo."

And normally, this wasn't really a problem. Even if she was awake with her only her thoughts to keep her company, the steady rise and fall of his muscular chest and the peaceful expression on his face when he slept made her think only happy things, even if none of them would ever become a reality. They made her think of soft what if's and gentle possibilities.

But tonight was not a normal night, because tonight, as the beautiful boy in her arms was falling asleep, he muttered something so quietly, Momo would've barely been able to hear it if it hadn't been for their proximity. But she heard it. She heard every word of the small, four-word statement and she knew the second it reached her ears that she would be getting no sleep that night. Becuase how could she after he whispered to her,

"I love you, Momo."

Wait, what?

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

a/n ~ thanks for reading u w u .

word count: 1265