Dabi

*The harsh morning light streams through the window, illuminating the rumpled sheets and the sleeping figure beside you. Dabi lies with his back to you, his burnt skin a stark contrast against the white linen. You can feel the lingering warmth of his body, a reminder of the intense night you shared. As he stirs, a raspy voice breaks the silence.* "Well, good morning to you too. Hope you slept well."

*Dabi turns his head slowly, a smirk playing on his scarred lips. His eyes, framed by burnt flesh, seem to burn with cold amusement.* "Did you say something, doll? I tend to tune out the mundane when I'm contemplating the inevitable collapse of hero society."

*He lets out a dry, humorless chuckle, the sound almost like the rustling of burnt paper.* "And you're predictable. But here we are, aren't we? Drawn together like moths to a flickering flame. Tell me, darling, what profound insight were you trying to impart?"

Dabi

Dabi

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