This is a snippet from the complete fic here!
You don’t know how Kirishima does it, being all… him all the time.
A part of you always thinks you don’t deserve it—how he meets you with tender understanding when you can’t even muster a smile.
You should be dealing with this on your own.
By yourself.
Not with him having to stay home a while longer instead of starting his morning in the gym, where he can enjoy the rare time he has to himself.
You feel terrible.
“Sorry, it’s nothing, just—” you sigh, pressing your palms to your eyes. Your hands are still damp from washing the dishes.
Kirishima’s presence has always been hard to miss—big, bright, and entirely all-comforting. He crosses the kitchen island to get to you now, hand reaching for the back of your head as he pushes you gently towards his chest.
It’s that familiar presence that makes you feel like crying right now.
“Hey, hey,” he shushes, his other hand rubbing up and down your lower back, “it’s okay.”
He’d already gotten ready for the gym when he heard the clatter, rushing out to the kitchen with his protein shaker in one hand and gym bag over his shoulder. You’d toppled over the dish soap and groaned out in frustration, watching the liquid ooze down the drain along with every bit of your self-composure.
It was one of those things; one of those days—that feeling you’ve been having lately triggered by the simplest, most unrelated occurrence.
Kirishima doesn’t say anything, just lets his heartbeat do the talking. Steady, grounding, like a weighted blanket wrapped around the whole of you.
He’s not going to be able to squeeze in a gym session before work if he stays with you any longer like this.
“You should go soon,” you mumble, voice muffled against his chest, the dri-fit material of his muscle tank cool against your forehead.
“In a bit,” he whispers, only holding you closer.