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… me either…

can’t friends do that, though?

to those of you who have a romantic partner: what is it like?

good afternoon.

blink. “you’d also get angry at me if i didn’t eat it. you might think i didn’t want it, when in reality, i would just be waiting for it to cool.” he says, expression blank, head tilting a little. “i was just trying to be polite.” he can’t do anything right. he sighs, and eats.

“oh.” he blinks. “well, if it makes you feel any better, i quite like the name.” he begins to finish his meal, sipping on his tea every now and then. he’s… not sure what else to say, so he stays quiet.

he nods, grimacing a little. “ironically enough, i’m a little sensitive to temperature.” among other things. “i like to wait for a while before eating anything that’s hot,” he says. the pain is ebbing. he’ll eat more soon. “i… didn’t want you to think i was refusing.”

“that’s cute,” he says, thinking of the dog in question, picturing it in his head. a coincidence— it’s one of the only dog breeds he knows. but then he notices her hiding her face. he’s… confused, and a little concerned. “i’m… sorry if i’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“i’ve heard that pets can become valued members of a family,” he says, nodding slightly, looking down at his food. it’s half-finished. he drinks some more tea. “what breed of dog are they?” he asks, even though he hasn’t the slightest clue about any of them.

shouto doesn’t want to fuck this up, either. it feels like he’s walking on land mines. what can he say that won’t make bakugou explode? hhh… “i… can’t cook,” he says eventually, trying to ignore the pain in his mouth. “no matter how hard i try. i always mess up.”

he shrugs, swallows. “close enough, i suppose.” yumi’s nice. she taught him a lot of things. “do you have any siblings?” he asks, because that’s what the books stay to do; ask the other person questions, as well. it’s polite.

one of shouto’s interests is his own diagnosis. he recognises the stim immediately, but says nothing, does nothing. simply ignores it, because that’s what he would like someone to do for him. “you’re… a good cook.” he says quietly, before scooping more into his mouth. too hot.

he notices bakugou biting back something. ah… he must have said something wrong again. “ah, well, you’re—” only after he speaks does he realise he should be quiet, so he stops himself, falls silent, and continues eating. quiet is good, anyway. quiet is calm. he eats some more.

i had decided i am not going to think about it. it feels like something i could lose myself in while trying to find the answer. i have more important things to spend time on.