Axis (old)

Chapter 3:Unforgettable.

A/N: Izukus age varies throughout this chapter. It's kind of a filler as the next chapter will have a timeskip. These are some memorable events that happened in this period between 12 and 15. This is all in Izukus POV but in italics because it's a past memory. Also I pulled some inspo from a TON of fics that I've read over this year. So if something seems familiar that's probably why. A few lyrics from the song were also used as inspiration. Along with one scene similar to shy girl in honey boy. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!
CW: Implied/referenced underage smoking & drinking, Implied/referenced underage sex
(No actual seggs scene that makes me uncomfy to write. We already testing my limits here.)

Some people are unforgettable.

Sometimes, I wanted to be unforgettable too.

So I behaved much older than I was.

Sold our apartment. Nice lady. Single mother of two. I left my childhood home with a single duffle bag. Mostly clothes and toiletries. Scrapped together money. One tattered picture.

Love for me was like sour candy. You eat one, and your nose scrunches at the sensation before you smile at the sickly sweet flavor and eat another just to taste the sweet again. Trying not to scrunch your nose this time. And then you continue until your tastebuds burn.

I met a girl when I was thirteen. She was pretty. Sitting on the street with a book.

"Do you think the book is sad?"

She didn't startle. Simply looked at me. Not afraid of making eye contact. Her eyes were a faint blue. (Like a ghost) Her hair always seemed to float a little. Even when it wasn't windy.

"No. I think it finds the beauty in a somber love story."

A somber love story.

We went to a rooftop that night.

I stood a few inches taller than her.

We were close together. If she leaned forward our noses would touch.

"How old are you?" She whispered.

"Thirteen."

"I'm fourteen." I could see the details of her face now. Her skin was like porcelain. Lips a dark pink. Auburn hair tucked behind her ears. Each lobe pierced with a small gem.

Then she leaned in. But turned her face. We didn't touch noses. We touched lips. She was the first girl to ever notice me of course. My first kiss.

My cheeks were pink. But my eyes weren't open long. She grabbed my hands, moving my left to her cheek and my right to the back of her neck.

Her lips tasted like coffee and cherry candy.

I kissed her a few more times after that. We would happen to stumble across each other.

I was better the third time.

Our kiss was much longer.

It was even longer the fourth and final time.

I think we somehow knew it would be the last time.

I never knew her name, she didn't know mine. (I always called her ghost girl, because her eyes were so noticeable.)

I was still thirteen (almost fourteen) when I met him. A much older boy of seventeen.

He was a bad guy. Bad intentions. I knew this.

He had lit the cigarette instructing me to part my lips before bringing it to him mouth taking a long breath.

He tilted my chin up, kissing me. He exhaled, and I tasted the bittersweet smoke on my tongue, filling my lungs.

I thought I loved him.

I was young. And stupid.

After I stopped seeing him (he had turned eighteen) I had a month before my fourteenth birthday.

I saw three people in that time. I don't remember them. I remember what they taught me though.

When I met the next girl I was fourteen.

Her tongue tasted like beer and cigarettes.

We were in a cheap apartment her mother owned. She was barely ever home so we didn't worry.

It was fun. How she groaned into my mouth when I bit her bottom lip a little. I moved to her neck, running my fingers through blonde curls. Dragging my lips across her jaw, and she'd gasp.

When we parted breathless and hot I realized she was only in a bra.

"We don't have to if you don't want to. It can be kinda scary I guess."

"I want to. I really want to."

He was the first boy the same age as me. The other two fifteen and seventeen.

Different to the first time when I was instructed by a girl I met at a party I shouldn't have been at.

Or the fifteen year old boy with long hair and pretty words. Pretty words last two unforgettable nights.

And the blonde girl. With beautiful curls and brown eyes and faint freckles.

The fourth time.

Hot and heavy. The warmth of skin on skin. Dirty sheets. Acrid smell of sweat and cheap cologne.

That lasted longer than any others.

We stayed together for five months.

And unforgettable five months of laughter and smiling and moans and skinny dipping.

He called me pretty. Beautiful.

I thought he was too.

And I wasn't sad when it was over. I think that's how I learned the true beauty of a somber love story.

A/N: Please lemme know what you think. I liked how this came out. Anyways this explains how Izuku started smoking and drinking and all that that comes up later on. And other stuff. *smiles evilly before walking back to my writing corner behind the fourth wall*