hugtopia_logs | { closed }

Entry tags:

{ closed }

♥ Who: Shouto Todoroki & Momo Yaoyorozu
♥ Where: Their home
♥ When: Backdated to the 20th/mid event
♥ What: Nightmares suck
♥ Rating: PG

Todoroki isn't typically one who has bad dreams, or even many at all. Save for a couple of past events. Usually these involve the incident at Kamino, or when he had witnessed his father's fight against High-End, among others. And, typically, when said events replay in his sleep, Todoroki may wake with a gasp, or maybe not.

The paranoia, however, is new. At first, he simply brushed off any discomfort he felt. Seeing how it continued, however, even if he made the choice to nap (to make up for a night of sleep he'd lost) earlier in the day, his frustration only continued to build upon itself.

On and on and on, until one fitful night, the bed and his room actually begins to heat up. Thankfully it doesn't start any fires, but the smell of burning rubber begins to faintly waft into the air.

While not waking immediately, he shifts and turns, body tensed as a white-knuckled hand grips his pillow.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Some of Momo's nights lately have been plagued with dreams as well, but fortunately tonight's not one of them. This time, what simply roused her from sleep was the need for a glass of water. Hence, she pulls herself up from bed—yawning now and again—and drags her feet to the kitchen. She's already well past Shouto's room when she finally notices that tinge in the air of something burning, and instantly she's wide awake.

There's no more time to even be surprised by how his door easily opens as she turns the knob and heads inside. Thankfully, nothing actually seems to be in flames. Though that doesn't mean everything's all right, she can tell that much. She briefly recalls their time in Empatheias and how the world was able to manifest emotions into something much more noticeable to the senses, except this she hasn't encountered before.

But speculating over that can wait for later.

For now, Momo carefully sits by the edge of his bed, one hand reaching out to pry his tense fingers loose from its death grip on his pillow. Meanwhile, her other taps lightly yet insistently on his cheek.

"Shouto...? Wake up."

In the immediate moments after, Todoroki continues to struggle. It's almost as if something is, even physically, trying to do whatever possible to keep him under. Which is how he's begun to feel by now.

Momo is lucky in ways. It's not as though the effect surfaced often for Todoroki, even during his full year in Empatheias. The quality and intensity was far more when in its world of origin. Were he terrified, or furious, for one, it wouldn't be rubber in the air, but burning sulfur, even enough to feel cloying and difficult to breathe.

His breath does catch. Whatever Momo is doing is beginning to help keep him from falling further. It takes a few long moments for his mind to register her initial touch, his hand noticeably relaxing. Another moment and he feels her other hand, almost instinctively raising his free one to cover the one she has upon his cheek.

Though his brows are knit in a frown, he slowly opens his eyes, taking a second or two for the sight of her to settle.

"Momo. . .?"

Momo lets out a sigh of relief upon hearing his voice. "Yes, it's me."

Any other time and she would've flustered at the thought of initiating contact, but now worry and concern overshadow such apprehensions. She makes light presses on his hand that she's holding, willing back circulation and as a calming gesture as well. Her hand on his cheek, now enclosed with his own, stills.

"I passed by your room and smelled something... burning. I was worried you somehow ended up activating your Quirk in your sleep, but that didn't seem to be the case." A pause, then she adds: "Sorry if I'm intruding." This is, after all, the privacy of his room.

Any questions she has is briefly put on hold as she takes in his appearance and notices his body still quite tense. Putting him at ease is priority for now.

"It's okay. I'm here." Maybe changing positions will help him relax more? "Do you think you could sit up?"

Momo has already become a great sense of comfort, just by having come into his room and made her presence known. At any other time, maybe he would have been a little amused by her apology over entering his room. Possibly as an afterthought.

It takes another few moments longer before he's shifting in order to sit beside her.

"It's those dreams again," he quietly states. Maybe she's familiar? He briefly brought the subject up just the other day, although it had been more in passing. It was probably just his mind being a pain, right?

"Sorry if I woke you up."

She does recall when he says "again," and feels a bit guilty at having dismissed that instance initially as more or less just the product of adjusting to the new environment. She even remembers recommending which type of tea to take before sleep to help calm down his nerves. Now the suggestion just feels... juvenile.

"It's all right. If anything, I wish I could've went to you earlier."

Momo cradles his hand in hers as if to warm it up. Not like he needs it, given his Quirk, but it's the sentiment that counts. While this is reminiscent of that time when he went to comfort her after a bad dream, somehow it's different, too. Maybe because while she can fully say that she trusts him, even with vulnerable moments such as that, she isn't quite as sure if he's willing to do so as well with her. Though that won't stop her from trying.

"Was something... different about it tonight? You've never reacted this strongly to it before..."

There's nothing to fault her for. Whatever it is that's causing the distress and inability to sleep well is beyond the both of them. Still, it'a incredibly frustrating to not know how to defend yourself, or even have a way to, from an otherwise unseen force.

"You've done nothing wrong," he decides to say aloud. The way she takes his hand already feels so normal, so natural by now. Enough that he doesn't even give any thought towards the way he reciprocates by slipping his fingers between hers. A slight shift further and he's leaning against her side; still sleepy, but it's comfortable, and he knows he is/does feel safe like this, with her.

He frowns a bit, "I don't know. It did feel more realistic this time And—" his hold tightens a little around her hand. ". . . kind of helpless. I don't know if me still being capable of Dunamis is the reason why my body reacted that way."

So natural indeed that she isn't even surprised anymore when he twines their fingers together. Even his weight on her side is a welcome one as she considers what he's said for a moment. Hearing him mention helplessness weighs heavy in her heart. Not only was she personally acquainted with the feeling, it also casts her mind back to that moment when they were watching Endeavor's fight on screen. She's seen his distress then, and it's something she wishes he won't ever have to go through again...

"I think—" She leans back into him as well. "I think bad dreams have a way of making us feel that way. Being able to do something at least drowns out the fear, but it's when we can't do anything that it gets to us the most. That things start feeling... too much."

A returned squeeze of his hand as she continues. "I don't exactly know what we can do to stop this. We can't just not sleep. But if you want to go back to sleep, I can stay? To keep watch, if it helps."

Of course that also means not letting go of his hand. Again, if it helps.

It's hardly a point in his life that he'll forget, either. Witnessing his father's fight against High End, even only through the television, had him holding his breath for longer than he can honestly remember. He's never doubted Endeavor as a hero, knows how very capable he is, but how could anyone have not watched such a scene and felt passive?

It seemed that the intensity from it had been the trigger which pulled him into Empatheias that initial time.

"Mm. I know." He closes his eyes for the moment, still against her, their hands twined. In doing so, he falls silent for a few long moments, somewhat turning over a few thoughts in his mind. Listening to her speak is easing.

"Stay." The decision is without question. He then adds, quietly, "You can rest, here, too. The bed is large enough, and I don't mind."

Whether or not he says this due to partially being lulled already, it's an honest offer, and request, alike.

She has, of course, already made up her mind to stay even without him asking. What wasn't in the plans was staying in the bed itself. It's not that the prospect is unwelcome; it may even be pleasant. (Well, not that his company and proximity has ever made her feel unpleasant.) Still, the idea's a bit outside her more reserved sensibilities that it's enough to make her face heat up.

"That's— that's all right. I'll stay at this side of the bed then while you occupy the other. And, well, also—"

Having been used to sleeping by herself in a big bed her entire life, she's never really had to worry about bed space before. So:

"If I somehow happen to cross over to your side, then I give you full permission to push me back. I won't mind it, truly. In fact, I insist! You should have the most room in your own bed, after all!"

The first thing he even does this time, stirred by her demeanor and manor of reply, is lift his free hand to her forehead. While of course he's frowning some. "You look feverish. Are you suddenly not feeling well, Momo?"

(Yes. That's a thing.)

That's not to say he isn't a bit amused. No, he's never had to share his space with anyone, regardless of his usual bed size, but that's not entirely the point.

"Momo." He's firm again with her name, although nothing aside from that would say he's being at all critical. The hand he has upon her just drops lower until it's lightly cupping her cheek.

"It's fine. I'd never push you away."

He may have her best intentions in mind, but a hand on her face coupled with such words is the last thing Momo needs if she's to keep a cool and collected front over the arrangement. So with a flustered jolt, she breaks away from his touch to crawl on her side of the bed. Besides, better that he won't have to see how much redder her face can get over this...

"T-Then you're not allowed to complain if I end up taking too much space," she mumbles, fluffing the pillow (unnecessary, but it gives her something to do) and reaching for his covers, of which she promptly takes refuge under. Blanket pulled over half her face, she catches his eyes again.

"Let's sleep...?"

His hand awkwardly remains in the air for a few brief moments after Momo practically recoils. Which is set with mild confusion. Had he done something wrong? Although in retrospect, he's only now noticing that his heart is beating a little quicker.

"I won't." Complain, that is. He doesn't mind keeping her near - maybe so much so that he honestly wants to, rather than an 'oh, I don't mind' sort of way. Which Momo seems to be fine with. . . until sometimes she isn't??

Well. Either way. "I'll try to keep to my side as well." He blatantly pauses, the words at the tip of his tongue about how, again, he would be all right if she ended up closer.

The remark doesn't come to pass his lips.

"Mhm." Instead, he shifts to better allow Momo her space. However, right as he's settled, currently on his back, something else does tentatively come to mind.

". . .I'd still like to hold hands, if that's okay."

She's still clutching the blanket as if it's a lifeline when she hears his request. It snaps her out of her circling thoughts, enough for her to feel a bit guilty at acting as if she's hesitant over the whole thing despite agreeing. She's not, of course; nervous, even shy, are the more suitable words to describe it. Yet indeed, there is the possibility of it coming off as harsher—colder—than that.

"Of course."

Momo promptly finds his hand under the blanket to intertwine their fingers again. For a while, she doesn't really have anything to say. She's holding his hand, just like earlier, but somehow this time it feels... lacking. Then she realizes why:

It feels so half-hearted.

She's a hero-in-training but, moreover, a friend. Is she really going to let her nervousness get in the way of offering genuine comfort? This won't do. Hence, after some time, Momo turns to her side to face him. Surely he wasn't asleep that fast already? Either way, with a few false starts, she reaches out to place a hand on his cheek enough to get his attention. Then, very carefully, she eases him closer, just a bit by her shoulder—enough that she can rest her chin on the top of his head. (Ah, at least he won't see her face like this and inquire again.)

The truth of it was, she doesn't really know how to do all this. Being this close, all the contact so far... There wasn't a guidebook, after all (though even if there was, she's almost sure they've been skipping over the steps this entire this time). Still, she thinks this feels... right, better, at least.

Now situated, Momo mumbles by his head: "I-If this is uncomfortable in any way at all, just tell me and I'll let go."

Neither of them especially know how. It's only that being like this - holding hands, being so close, and wholly at ease and comfortable with it - feels natural by now. He realized at some point back in Empatheias that he had been lacking this sort of affection for what basically has been his entire life. Yet it's different than, say, any other kind of contact or relationship. He's sure by now that it (very probably) has to do with how much he's come to really like Momo.

So when she repositions them a bit, Todoroki doesn't show any sign of distaste.

"It's fine." More than that. "You don't need to let go. . .I like having you here." He closes his eyes and gently squeezes her hand, letting out a quiet breath as he settles into the bed. Sleep will probably come much easier, now.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

{ closed }

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject