warning: content in here will vary drastically. storylines can range from mild to triggering. viewer discretion is advised
｡ : ° ஐ | | ｡ : ° ஐ
this is a one-shot after all.
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ﾟ˚✧₊⁎( 𝒉e𝒂t 𝒘a𝒗e )˚✧₊⁎ ｡
𝓣𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓼 and turns, throbs and distress. The tyrannical agony coming from the blonde's abdomen felt like knives. Punctures after stabs, that seemed to drain more of the young teen's stability.
Lips divided as they shook with pain. He could feel his heartbeat violently thump against his chest cavity, the superficial questions scouring in his head.
Knees latched and body plundered to the floor, fingertips moist with sweat. Breathing seems unthinkable. He wasn't imprisoned underwater, yet it felt with every bestowed breathe, water plunge into his lungs. Overfilling, overtopping them.
Katsuki's breathing was shallow. It was hindering. His heart was no longer beating at the drastic rate of unrest, his psyche, no longer sprinting with that torment of degrades and slurs, no.
No, it was done.
His previously clear vision appeared to bore with a blur and duplicates of objects around. The glimmer of the sun was beginning to appear as far too much for the young boy's eyes; its beam could almost be interpreted as blinding. Raising aloft his trembling palm to shield himself from the sun's desired scowl felt impossible.
Was this due to his lack of energy? For what he had just experienced downstairs? The intense pressure of humiliation and distraught?
Talons dug into the itchy carpet's texture, the teen hauling his physique towards his lavatory.
Is this what his mom always felt? Right before she was about to hurl?
His dragging came to be more frantic, more crucial. However, his body seemed too unstable, fragile. The subtlest touch could have obliterated him in seconds. Having become as delicate as porcelain.
The spikes that reclined upon his head shook with the abrupt movement of his head. Cocking it forward just to cock it back in place. Katsuki knew what this was, but, he didn't have the time to move.
In an instant, blotched coloring and chunks of food slipped onto the carpet floor. The puddle only heightening larger by the continuous fluids that ignited from his stomach.
The coughing had alerted him, at least to an indication, that the misery had ceased. Once his body's ember of energy settled to nothing but ashes, he could see the room around spin immediately.
A long crash of types progressed the awareness of the pupils that made up Class 1-A's hero course. Eyes worriedly glanced up the stairs that governed to their compartments.
