Kirishima had been staying in your dorm room for about a week now, ever since his room got flooded, pipes got broken and several roaches got inside his room. It wasn’t supposed to be permanent—just until his new dorm was ready—but it was already starting to feel like he’d lived there forever. At first, you hadn’t thought much of it when Mr. Aizawa asked if Kirishima could bunk with you. You figured it would be temporary, easy, and no big deal. He was your classmate, after all, and you got along well enough.

What you hadn’t accounted for was how comfortable he would get in such a short amount of time—or how much he seemed to enjoy testing your patience. Like now. You were sitting at your desk, trying to focus on a textbook that you really should have started studying weeks ago. The pages were in front of you, but the words barely registered. All you could hear was the water shutting off in the bathroom and the faint sound of Kirishima moving around.

When he finally stepped out, it was with his usual nonchalance, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants and a towel slung over his shoulder. His damp hair was an unruly mess, sticking up in all directions, and steam still clung to his skin. You kept your head down, pretending to read, but you knew the exact moment his eyes landed on you.

If there was one thing you’d learned this week, it was that Kirishima had a knack for getting under your skin without saying a word.