Well past dusk and a couple of pints, Bakugou stared with labored breath across the celebratory campfire miles from their base but mere meters from their final victory as a guild.
After brushes with death and triumphant victories over tragic losses and defeat, he knew that he forever required her soft, pink touch.
He wouldn't be the first to say that they worked well together, but such an observation only grazed the topsoil of the magic that lied between them. Suns and moons bound by rays of light resembled their connection more appropriately.
“Uraraka.” His speech trembled.
She knew the wolf that called her name.
Once feral and wild - he now was tame.
To credit shadows of a Crescent moon
Would rob him of his effort too soon.
Collar and chain could keep him near
For him to flee? She never’d fear.
Smile floating on her lips.
She giggled and she took some sips.
Odd for his face to get so pink.
But silence allowed her to stop and to think,
“He's never looked at me this way.
“Perhaps the beer hit him this day."
Then this man wrapped her in his arms.
No tricks, no smirks, no spells, no charms.
What their hearts had said.
She knew his words were pure and true.
But she didn't know what she should do.
She could not stop the tears - she said.
But followed along the fateful thread.