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“Shigaraki?” You called from the living room. It hadn’t been too long since you two had moved in together, but ever since you had you noticed something was amiss. Shigaraki was never home when you got back from work, and during the off times he was he never paid you much attention. It was frustrating - you had thought moving in together would bring you closer, not force you further apart.
Today was part of the majority; Shigaraki wasn’t home.
Now, you had never been one to pry or force yourself into his business, but when it was starting to drastically change your relationship with him you had to know. With a sigh you set your keys on the kitchen counter and leaned back onto it. You slid your phone out from your back pocket, searching for the contact you needed. Upon finding it you took a steady, deep breath, and called.
It took a long time. Longer than was comfortable. Ring, after ring, after ring, you began to lose hope. Just as you were about to finally call it quits, the line picked up.
“Hello?”
He sounded tired, his voice even more hoarse than usual. It was no secret that he struggled sleeping but you hadn’t realized it had gotten worse. How were you supposed to know? He barely slept in the same bed as you anymore.
“Shig-Shigaraki?” You caught yourself. Recently you had been calling him by his full name. Even though you wanted to go back to the old, comfortable familiarity that you both shared, you felt odd calling him anything else- like it was no longer your place. Regardless, you were desperately trying to reach him, make him feel your hurt, feel your anguish.
“Where are you?”
“…”
No answer. You released a shaky breath, eyes shut tight. “Nevermind, just …”
What exactly did you want? You couldn’t pour your heart out to him over the phone. He had been avoiding you so much lately that you were afraid a phone call was too easily ignored, that he would hang up whenever he wanted. What you wanted was for him to come home. What you wanted was for everything to go back to how it was before.
“Can you come home?”
The question took more courage than it should have, and it came out slow, as if speaking too fast would keep him from understanding that you needed this. Needed him.
“Y/N -“
You knew that tone. It wasn’t the first time you’d been outright rejected like this. It was coming to the point of physical pain, a sharp ache in your chest when the one you wanted, the one you needed most was just so far away, so out of reach.
“I’m sorry, I just - I don’t know. I miss you, you know?” You sniffed, eyes cast to the side. You saw an old photograph from when you had first started dating. You noticed how Shigaraki smiled, pure admiration in his eyes as he watched you take the selfie. You two had gone to a concert that day, his favorite band, but even then it seemed like his focus was solely on you. Still, you could see the hesitation, the fear that was hidden beneath the surface.
You felt tears prick your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Breathe in, breathe out. Calm down.
“I won’t ask again, I promise I won’t, I just really need you to come home.” Your voice was strained with suppressed sadness, almost cutting out in a choke that would have given away how you truly felt. You couldn’t do that just yet.
There was no reply. Just silence.
“Please,” you pushed. “Just this once.”
A couple moments passed before he answered.
“I’ll be there soon.”
Your eyes lit up. You opened your mouth to hurriedly thank him but were quickly shut down by the dial tone. Slowly, you brought your phone to your lap and stared at the blank screen, seeing yourself in the reflection. You were visibly exhausted. You both were similar in that aspect, both struggling to sleep, but when you sometimes came together at the end of the day, in the same bed, and relaxed in each other’s hold, you slept. You both did.
Too bad that doesn’t happen anymore.
Deciding you had enough time you decided to go take a well needed shower.
You headed to the bathroom and washed, taking your time. You really didn’t want to take long- shower thoughts can be dangerous.
When you exited you saw a towel laid out for you and a fresh set of clothes that you didn’t bother to take out.
Shigaraki must be home.
It was moments like these that were confusing. When talking to him you felt brushed aside, ignored, just another inconvenience, but then he would do small things like leave you lunch or order you dinner when you were too tired to do it yourself. Little things to show he still cared in some way.
But did he?
It hurt, because what was the answer? How do you answer something with evidence that points to two different answers?
After quickly drying, dressing, and dealing with your hair, you padded out back towards the bedroom where you’d most likely find him, only he wasn’t there. Instead, you found him in the kitchen checking the fridge.
When he noticed you approach he only glanced your way, eyes practically hidden beneath his hair as it hung in his face from being hunched over. He straightened up and closed the fridge, moving towards the cupboard.
“You didn’t eat,” his face was stoic as he grabbed a cup and placed it on the counter.
You had thought about what you were going to say when he came home. You went through countless scenarios; what to say, how to say it, and how he’d react. It all vanished when you found yourself needing to speak.
“I, uh, forgot.” You fidgeted. “Wasn’t exactly on my mind when I came home.” He acknowledged you with a slight nod, moving back towards the fridge for something to drink.
He moved silently, cautious. No amount of pretending could cover up the fact that he knew something was up. He poured out his drink — sprite. Good to know that not everything’s changed.
He leaned back against the fridge, awkwardly swirling his cup and taking sips from it here and there. You watched expectantly, hopefully, for him to finally say something, to show that he cares about what happens between you two enough to take initiative.
After another moment of silence, you realized he wasn’t going to talk. And so, you decided to start it the only way you knew how.
“We need to talk.”
Shigaraki stopped swirling his drink, body frozen, but his eyes met yours. His face was stoic, but his eyes weren’t. They held so much emotion, a gateway to his heart, and only one emotion was prominent; one that you had never seen leave his eyes since you started dating, since you became something precious to him.
He was afraid.
He offered a slight nod, a reluctant encouragement for you to continue.
You wanted to reach out to him and hold him, the threads which bound you to him pulling tight, but you remained firm.
His fingers flexed around his drink, one clothed pinky from a pair of gloves you once gave him circling the rim. Those gloves were special to both of you; they allowed him to hold you as close as he could without actually hurting you, only the pinky of each hand covered and basically none of the palm. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought he wanted to reach out, too.
“What’s been going on?” You asked. “What’s wrong?”
His gaze was downcast, trained on his drink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You do know. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Shigaraki, please, you need to talk to me. I can’t fix anything if I don’t know what’s broken.” You pleaded.
He grimaced. “Nothing’s broken,” his voice was a croak, forced out from the confines of his throat. “Nothing’s wrong.”
Pain and confusion shrouded your face. There had to be something wrong, something that changed everything.
But maybe…
Maybe it’s not something.
Maybe it’s you.
The realization struck you like a brick wall. Suddenly, everything made sense. Why he won’t look at you, spend time with you, or come home to you. You felt the foundations of a relationship you tried so hard to build begin to crumble away.
“… is it me?” Your voice was soft, careful. You knew the weight it held, and you were certain you knew the answer as well. It was a cataclysmic question, one you knew would shatter you into an irreversible mess should he answer.
Shigaraki was alert, suddenly remorseful and scared. He seemed desperate, his eyes searched your face frantically as he tried to guess what you were thinking.
“No, no, don’t say that,”
The tears that were brimming your eyes finally fell. You weren’t sobbing, but your heart was breaking. It was a somber, quiet pain, a silent suffering that came with the ache in your chest. You absently brought a hand to lay over the pain, as if protecting it, as if laying your hand there could keep your heart intact.
“Y/N, please, I-“ he paused.
Watching you break in front of him was heart wrenching to Shigaraki. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to misunderstand him like this. He didn’t know what to do, how to take back so much time he spent hurting you when the whole reason he was distant was to avoid that. He never wanted to hurt you.
But he did. He knew that now.
“It’s not you, baby, please, it’s not you. God, it’s never been you.”
‘It’s never been you.’
He saw you wince. He saw how you pulled your sleeves over your hands so you could wipe your eyes, only for the tears to be replaced by new ones. You misunderstood again.
His mouth opened and closed, opened and closed, looking for words that were so close but intangible.
He didn’t know what to do. Whatever he needed to say wouldn’t come out. How does he fix this? How does he tell you that his absence wasn’t your fault? That the sudden new intimacy of living together scared him as his feelings grew larger than they ever had grown before? How does he tell you that he knew he shouldn’t want you as much as he did because he knew it would hurt so, so much when you left? How does he explain that he loves you so much that sometimes it almost hurts?
He felt his own heart break, realizing that he had done exactly what he didn’t want to do. He didn’t want himself to get hurt, that much is true, but he didn’t want to hurt you in the process. He was afraid of what would happen if you ever left him. Who would be there to support him? To hold him? To love him the way he was never loved before? How could he live without something he always needed and only recently gained?
Looking at you now, tears streaming down your face masked in unadulterated pain, he realized his mistake.
He shouldn’t have doubted you. Shouldn’t have underestimated your feelings for him.
You weren’t going to leave him.
Too bad it took him this long to realize it.
He reached out to you, finally drawing in close, and pulled you into an embrace. You accepted it even though you thought it would be the last time, that this would be the last thing he’d give you before he left. Your hands were clenched against his chest, your forehead against it, and you finally let go. The hurt and pain you had been holding back bubbled over, breaking its confines and spilling out in the form of tears and cries that were soaked up by his black cotton shirt.
He held you tighter, his head leaning down so he could encompass you even more. He lightly rocked you side to side as he waited for your cries to die down and until all you could produce were shaky, torn breaths. But he didn’t move. Neither did you.
You had been clenching his shirt like you never wanted to let it go, because, truthfully, you didn’t. Your grip finally loosened but you never released the fabric. With a sigh, Shigaraki released his hold around you and forced you both apart, but he kept one hand on the back of your head, forcing you to look at him. He brought both hands to your cheeks, thus caressing the remnants of tears away, and kissed your forehead, then leaned his own against yours. You peered up at him, bracing yourself for the final blow.
“I love you.”
You froze.
“What?”
“I said,” he moved lower, lips almost touching yours. He glanced at yours before making eye contact, so that all you could see was his want, love, and untold emotion that he simply couldn’t put into words. “I love you.”
He closed the distance between you, lips pressed ever so gently together. You were trembling beneath him, exhausted from crying and trying to fathom what was happening.
He had never kissed you like this before. Never with so much care, so much admiration, so filled with everything you needed to know.
You almost wanted to laugh.
It was ridiculous how wrong you had been,
how a misunderstanding can turn things around.
If only he had talked to you.
If only you hadn’t assumed.
But you weren’t complaining; maybe this was what you both needed to finally cross that line.
You smiled into the kiss and pressed back, reciprocating all that you felt - all the joy, happiness, and love.
You pulled back, a giggle brightening your features. You held the hand that was still on your cheek and leaned into it.
“I love you too.”
You wished you could have captured that moment, but no amount of time would allow you to forget the pure happiness that Shigaraki radiated, the tears of joy that threatened to spill over his cheeks. One tear escaped - you kissed it away.
“I need you to promise me something,” you started. He nodded eagerly.
“Anything, princess, anything.” He searched your face. You were serious.
“You need to talk to me when something is wrong. We can’t do this again.” You begged.
He nodded. Then, after consideration, he decided to add on. “Then I need you to never blame yourself,” he began, “never think it’s your fault. I just - I struggle, with, you know, how I feel, and I just, I don’t want you to think that it’s you. It could never be you,” He bit his lip, holding back more tears. “You’re too good for me, Y/N.”
You pulled his head down to your shoulder, caressing his back to encourage him to cry, to let it out.
“It’s okay, baby, you can cry, it’s okay,” you soothed.
He let out a choked sob and wrapped his arms around you, holding you so tight and so close as he cried. In a similar way as to how he rocked you before you instead soothed him with whispers of love and encouragement. When he stopped crying he pulled back and grabbed your hand, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his other.
“Let’s go lay down,” he peered over your shoulder to look out the window, “it’s getting dark.”
You let him lead you to the bedroom where you both changed into sleepwear. He was attentive as he changed you, you doing the same for him. You admired each other’s imperfections - scars, marks, and impurities alike, sharing a kiss here and there just out of a want to do so.
When you were both changed you got into bed. It was comforting to finally be in each other’s presence, to be able to share this intimate moment of want and vulnerable dependence.
He pulled you to his side so you could use his chest as a pillow. You laid a hand on his stomach and relaxed into his touch. You could hear his heart beat beneath you, soothing you, finally with the man you knew you were meant to be with.
“I’m sorry, for…” he trailed off. “For everything. I don-“
“Shh,” you hushed him. You craned your head up to look at him and smiled. “I know.”
He smiled back at you.
“You really are good to me, Y/N.” He sighed in content, closing his eyes. You giggled. “I know.”
Time passed. You could see the sky slowly being filled with more and more stars as you stared out the window. You were so tired, but you just wanted to enjoy the moment for all that it was worth.
His breathing was slow, even and peaceful. Your head rose with every inhale and lowered with every exhale. It was comforting.
You smiled to yourself.
“I love you,” you whispered.
“I love you, too” he drowsily spoke, not quite asleep yet either. He pulled you closer.
You both fell asleep soon after.