aizawa becomes something of a housecat once you move in with him, just not in the way you’d anticipated. you’d sort of expected he’d be the type to spend most of his time wandering off to some corner of the house to sleep until it he decided he was ready for your attention, certainly never on your terms, and you’d have most of your time and space to yourself. you laughed to yourself as you unpacked boxes, half-wondering if you’d one day find him basking in the heat of an afternoon sunbeam on your living room floor.
but instead, he was the type of housecat who was underfoot all the time–who’d quietly demand affection by following you into the kitchen and circling around you as you made your morning coffee, nuzzling your shoulders and brushing against you, or who’d flop down on the half-made bed and get in your way, trying to tempt you back under the sheets, or who’d suddenly appear out of nowhere when you sat down for a moment, laying his head in your lap and smiling at you with half-lidded eyes, enticing you to set aside whatever you were doing at the moment because what could be more important than giving him your love?
and some days you wondered where the man had gone who quietly skulked around your apartment at odd hours of the night, and missed the silence of your sacred personal space. but when you’d wake up in the middle of the night to feel him curled up against you, his hair tickling your neck, limbs thrown over you haphazardly, you suddenly didn’t mind it all so much. maybe you were the warm patch of midday sun he’d been looking for.
