The night felt heavier than usual to Kyla, an uncomfortable quiet that lingered around them and allowed her space to think about all the things she always tried so hard to avoid remembering. The soft hum of the city could be heard beyond the cracked window and the smell of smoke remained in the air, faint but familiar and comforting.

​

Dabi sat beside her on the edge of the narrow bed, the blue of his eyes catching the dull glow of the city lights outside their temporary lodging. Kyla didn’t know why her fingers trembled as she absently traced the scars and staples that lined the top of his hand. She almost felt afraid that if she stopped touching him, he might vanish into the darkness that always seemed to call to him.

​

“You good?” His voice was low and rough next to her.

​

“I just... sometimes I think about things I wish I wouldn’t. Like thinking about how one day, you might not come back.”

​

He didn’t answer her right away. When she looked up at him, she could see it in his expression—not anger, no teasing smirk this time. Just something quiet and exhausted. Just those beautiful turquoise eyes still burning bright in spite of it.

​

“I made peace with that a long time ago. But you—” He looked almost hesitant, his gaze flickering away to the window, as if the blue glow outside and the passing train were somehow easier to admit it to.

​

“You’re the only thing in this shit world that ever made me wish I hadn’t.”

​

“Don’t say that!” Her voice was too sharp, too high. “Don’t talk like you’re already gone.”

​

He stared at her, really looked for a long moment. It felt like forever, the way her heart ached and her chest felt so heavy. Finally, he made a sound, somewhere between a snort and a sigh, the corner of his mouth turned up into the half-smile Kyla was all too familiar with.

​

“You really want to hang onto me that bad?”

​

“Yes,” she said, her fingers reaching out and clenching in the rough fabric of his shirt, desperate. “More than anything. Forever.”

​

Dabi smiled then—not a smirk but a real smile—something small and sad but more honest than before. She was surprised when he leaned over and pressed his lips to her temple, his warmth lingering like a promise.

​

“Then you’ll find a way. No matter what happens in this war.”

​

Her sob caught in her throat as he brushed his thumb across her cheek, smudging away a tear, not gentle but firm, summer-hot as he always was. 

​

“You’ll find a way,” he repeated, “a way to hang onto me forever.”

​

To love me forever.

​

And for a moment, one perfect heartbeat, she believed him. The fear didn’t disappear, the image of him fading away, of the fire burning out was still there. But it did soften some, replaced with the warmth of something eternal, something so powerful that even death would have to submit to its presence.

​

She kissed him then, slow and trembling and tear-damp and full of everything she didn’t know how to put into words right now. It felt as if the world outside of them went quiet, and in that fragile, fleeting moment eternity felt like something tangible, something close enough to touch.

​

Kyla leaned against him long after the world outside had fallen silent. The steady rise and fall of his breathing was enough to keep her anchored, to remind her that he was still here. She spoke first, her voice barely more than a whisper in the dark room.

​

“What do you think eternity looks like?” 

​

“You mean after all this?

​

“After everything.”

​

Dabi went quiet at that, his eyes fixed on the floor. For a long time, she thought maybe he wouldn’t answer. Maybe he would ignore her question or change the subject or simply give her that look that she knew meant he was not inclined to allow her to push further into the tangled mess of his churning emotions. She was surprised when she felt the rumble of his voice where she leaned against him still.

​

“I bet it’s quiet. No sirens or screaming or smoke choking the air. Maybe peaceful.” He closed his eyes, looking as if he were trying very hard to keep his expression indifferent. “Maybe it’s a place where I’m not this.”

​

Kyla reached up and gently brushed against his cheek, tracing the line where burned flesh met unscarred skin.

​

“You mean where you’re not Dabi?”

​

He shrugged before finally meeting her gaze.

​

“Just where I’m not whatever I am.”

​

“But I love who you are.”

​

His eyes softened for only a moment. He looked as he always did when she said things like that—as if he didn’t know what to say. As if it were easier to say nothing at all and put the mask of indifference back on. He did just that, letting out a low humorless chuckle.

​

“I know you do. I’m just saying... eternity for me would be somewhere where I can forget all the shit that happened to me and all the shit I’ve done. Somewhere I can just—” He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes again. “Rest.”

​

Kyla was quiet for a long time, listening to the rhythm of his breath and contemplating his words. She sat up and faced him, brushing her hand against his arm, causing him to look at her.

​

“I don’t think eternity is a place.”

​

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing. “No?”

​

She shook her head. “I think it’s a feeling. That moment when everything slows down—when you love someone so much you can’t tell if it’s been 10 seconds or 10 years but you know deep down you belong to them. That’s eternity.”

​

For a moment, she thought he might laugh at her, tease her for being too sentimental or too romantic or any of the number of things he would never admit to seeing as more than foolish weakness.

But he didn’t.

​

He just stared at her, his eyes bright with an intensity that even his flames could never hope to rival.

 

When he did speak, his voice sounded almost angry, although she knew him well enough to tell there was something underneath, an emotion he struggled to allow a name for.

​

“You really want to know what eternity is? Fine. I said it was quiet earlier, but it’s not. It’s your laugh echoing in the back of my mind when everything else is dark. It’s every time my heart beats in this fucked up body of mine that shouldn’t even still be here, defying odds, defying death, because somewhere deep down inside I know now there’s something that could be left of my life even after all this. It is a place, it’s the place where you exist, the place I don’t ever and will never deserve to be.”

​

She wrapped her arms around him suddenly, stopping the torrent of words that had begun to flood out of his emotions. She spoke no words herself, but the way her touch was so excruciatingly gentle on his ruined body and the way she pressed a soft, tearful kiss against his collarbone said enough.

​

You deserve eternity too.