[Of course. Of course Izuku wasn't even thinking about himself. Wasn't that the point? He didn't think about himself, and Shoto had been just as selfish. Those scars on his hands, they're because of Shoto, too, aren't they?
He doesn't have time to get lost in that train of thought, though. Because a moment later, one of those very same hands is touching his cheek, light and warm, and he's looking at Izuku looking up at him from below that mop of hair, eyes shining in the faint blue-green light, and his heart feels like it suddenly does a strange little flip in his chest.
Pretty.
It's a strange word to think. After all, Izuku might be smaller, but he's also surprisingly muscular, a solid weight to him, but...he is pretty in a way, isn't he? It's the way he smiles. The way he forgives people. The way he makes them want to be better, if there's any better in them to be.
There's a warmth to his cheeks, the longer he looks, but he can't seem to look away. It's just the lateness of the hour that's making him feel like this, probably, or the strange intimacy that comes from sharing things that aren't often shared. And yet, here he is.]
It's...not about you being upset with me or not. I shouldn't have judged you like that. And then you did this for me--
[He reaches down for Izuku's other hand, fingertips tracing the scars on his hands, and his heart does another one of those strange little flips at the feeling of that, too.]
no subject
He doesn't have time to get lost in that train of thought, though. Because a moment later, one of those very same hands is touching his cheek, light and warm, and he's looking at Izuku looking up at him from below that mop of hair, eyes shining in the faint blue-green light, and his heart feels like it suddenly does a strange little flip in his chest.
Pretty.
It's a strange word to think. After all, Izuku might be smaller, but he's also surprisingly muscular, a solid weight to him, but...he is pretty in a way, isn't he? It's the way he smiles. The way he forgives people. The way he makes them want to be better, if there's any better in them to be.
There's a warmth to his cheeks, the longer he looks, but he can't seem to look away. It's just the lateness of the hour that's making him feel like this, probably, or the strange intimacy that comes from sharing things that aren't often shared. And yet, here he is.]
It's...not about you being upset with me or not. I shouldn't have judged you like that. And then you did this for me--
[He reaches down for Izuku's other hand, fingertips tracing the scars on his hands, and his heart does another one of those strange little flips at the feeling of that, too.]
--so, I'm sorry.