Aesthete

Chapter 33 - Bakugo 2

Forty minutes faded in time as if it was only a second.

We stayed seated on the hill, I felt his hands touching my body delicately, as if I could disintegrate at a pressured touch. He released a stilled breath when I traced over the curvatures of his arms, allowing it to ease the darkness that threatened to possess me.

The tension in the air was the sharpest of blades, creating a pressure of static that would appear whenever one of us shifted in the slightest. He said nothing, only allowing his actions to compensate for his silence.

The knot that resided in my stomach was multiplying tenfold, but I ignored the pain to remain glued to Bakugo's side.

Is this what friends do? Caress each other this way to bring comfort, to be the residual aftereffects of a beaten spirit?

I couldn't tell, I had gone astray from pushing him away, I caved into the instinctive side of me, the one that necessitated that Bakugo and I never stray too far from one another. My heart no longer had the steady beats, it was erratic and disarrayed, fumbling to compensate for its normal regulations.

We heard the premature bell ring, warning us that we only had a few moments to enter our classroom once more, he broke away, leaving me craving his warmth.

"Let's go." He muttered quietly, pulling me upwards as he brushed the loose leaves that fell onto my uniform shirt. I mimicked him, dusting off the twigs that littered his shoulders. His finger tucked under my chin, hooking me upwards to meet his gaze.

"You're so ugly." He teased in a low, gruff whisper. It only took a second. I stumbled back, burning red as I opened and closed my mouth, too startled by the way my stomach recoiled on itself and how I wanted something I never would've imagined needing.

Him. Completely, entirely, irrefutably. No inch of him wouldn't be mine. I wanted to treasure his appearance, his sense of humor, his determination, his drive, his discreet kindness, him. Katsuki Bakugo.

I wouldn't be content until I could climb to the peak of the world, to the edges of the universe and say with pride that he was mine.

What did that even mean? Wanting someone to be yours? This emotion that had riddled me since I woke up in the forest was expanding as rapidly as it was fluidly. It was so pure and so unknown, whispering into my soul, demanding to be unlocked and bask in the glory of the way I was obliged to obey. I was obliged to love the boy so recklessly.

I forced my gaze to stare into the cracks of the ground, overwhelmed with the foreign feeling that rendered me useless. He hummed in amusement, moving his body to walk past me as I knew his shoulder would brush mine. I stuck my hand out, clasping to tug on his sleeve.

"What's wrong, shitty girl?" He demanded, eyebrows pulling together as he looked over me in concern. I said nothing, pulling with more force so he could face me. He huffed, but abided, our chests only centimeters away from each other.

My body moved without thinking.

I stood on my tiptoes slightly, using my index finger and thumb to grasp his chin and turn it away so his eyes could move to glance at the buildings nearby. I raised my lips, hoping and praying that he wouldn't be disgusted by this action, a small part of me hoped that he didn't truly think of me as ugly.

I pressed my mouth against his cheek, letting it stay there for seconds. When I moved away, I watched as he blushed for the first time. His cheeks were dusted in pink as he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

This will probably decide everything. If he hated it, I'll leave him alone and cope with the loss that could destroy me more than any beating or broken bone.