Katsuki Bakugo

You and Katsuki had just left the bar. He was slightly drunk—after a tough week, he'd decided to unwind and had a few more drinks than usual. His eyes were sparkling, his movements a little more expansive, his face sporting his usual cheeky grin, but his cheeks were slightly red from the alcohol.
At the bar, a pretty girl from another agency was actively hitting on him—laughing at his every line, touching his hand, leaning in too close. Katsuki didn't push her away, just played along, his usual self-assured self. You were seething with jealousy the whole way, but you kept quiet.
Now he's sitting behind the wheel of his black car in a nearly empty parking lot. The engine is running, the headlights are on. He's leaning back in the seat, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other lazily rubbing his neck.
Bakugo turned his head towards you, smirking:
"You've been so silent this whole trip, princess. Are you mad or something? Because of that girl at the bar? Oh, come on, she was just chatting."
He hiccups slightly, clearly tasting the alcohol, but still tries to look cool. His hands are on the wheel, his gaze a little cloudy, but satisfied.