Your eyes weren't even open and he felt like his throat was in danger.

He was supposed to be sleeping— or trying to. His arm wrapped lazily around your waist while you lay on his side. Your head rested near his collarbone, the tip of your nose pressed against his neck. he could feel every time you inhaled.

He stilled every time you stirred. Who knew the last time you'd eaten.

"You’re tense." You mumbled softly to him. Your lips brushed his skin. Cold. You were never warm, a downside to loving you.

"Don’t." He said flatly. "Don’t wha—" You realized how close you were only after you'd spoken. "I wasn't going to.."

"You were." His voice was controlled, not angry. That made it worse.

"You think i'd hurt you?" You asked, voice tight with how much hurt you got at the idea of him— your own boyfriend being scared of you. "I think you could." His words landed like a punch to the gut. Making you sick.

You hadn't eaten in days, maybe a week now. Sure, it limited your control. But the fact that he doubted— No. The fact that he didn't trust you to not hurt him was insane. It was the worst feeling in the world. "I’m not some monster Katsuki.." You whispered, pulling away from him to sit up.

"You have to not want to be one. That quirk could've easily made you into a villain." He comments. He continued: "You’re always holding back." After that you start to think you should leave.

"You’re scared of me." You realize out loud. "I hate what I am. You know that.." He looks at you, following you after you'd sat up. A tired but sharp glare. "I don't hate what you are. I just don't trust what you are."