𝙙𝙧𝙪𝙜𝙨 ; SHINDEKU

𝟏𝟐

It stung, but the sting was the best thing I’d ever felt. It kept me alive, like a jolt of energy, or an EPI pen.

The way he touched me, the way he looked at me, it just poured alcohol on my wounds, but it relieved the infection.

The way I danced with him in those sheets as the light shun in through the worn blinds. The dust flowing wildly in the air as it was always moving.

“Don’t stop- Please-” 

“Yes! Right there-”

“Fuck!”

The sensation only boarded up the door to the house of pain for a few hours, then we’d do it again.

I wanted to talk to him, to say something to let him know he meant more to me than just the sex.

But- what would I say to a man who would do anything to stay around me?

He leaned down to look at me, his eyes gazing at me through his lashes. His actual face was facing the tile below us. I sat on the edge of the tub.

He stood over me, looking at me intently, with desperation.

I smiled slightly at him, his grey eyes staring back at me with a soft aura.

“What?” I asked quietly to him.

“We need to talk.” He said. My smile dropped.
“Why?” I asked.

“Come on.” He said, deflecting my question. I really did not have the mindset to have the talk he wanted. We both understood the silence, and what it meant, but it was clear he was fed up with it and wanted to talk.

I sighed.

He straightened his stand and walked out of the bathroom. I followed with frustration, but nonetheless, followed.

I looked at his hands as they slightly swung by his side as he walked towards the bedroom. His fingers wrapped themselves into a fist for a brief second and then back to a relaxed form.

I sighed under my walk, letting my footsteps dull out the sounds of air.

“Why are we in here?” I asked, quietly. My throat had been sore, either from all the sobbing in the shower or the other activities that took place. Either one I was okay with, one a more common cause than the other, of a sore throat.

“Sit.” He said, standing in front of the bed. I took notice of his seriousness and the lump began forming in my throat, seizing up tightly.

I sat down, begrudgingly, and avoiding his eye contact. “Look at me, Izuku.”

“No.” I replied, without a second thought.

“Why not?” He asked, his tone hurt, seemingly.

“Because, I know what this is about.”

“No.” He spoke. “You don’t.”

I looked up at him, in response to his words and let out a shaky breath. “Then what is it?”

He sighed. “She called and she wants to talk to you.”

“No.” I immediately spoke up.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I can’t look her in the face! I have been fucking you and taking sob showers, how am I supposed to even talk to her?” I furrowed my brows, becoming defensive.

“Izuku.” He spoke. The way he said my name made my entire body stop and pay attention to him.

“You need to, she has something to say to you.” He said, his eyes were now down, as if he felt ashamed. I was unsure of their relationship, but I knew he must have felt somewhat responsible for whatever he was blaming himself for.