Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x Female reader.
Touya Todoroki and Y/N get tangled up in a unfortunate event one day. Miss perfect Y/N, or as Dabi calls her ''Kitten'' is about to get in harm's way when he and Isus step in to save the day. Little do they kno...
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''Why would you do something like that?''
''Why?''
''You could have ended up just like me''
''Look at me''
''I'm a freak''
(If you are curious of how the club house and Dabi's flat look- scroll through the introduction. Or visit my instagram and press the fanfiction story button)
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Y/N's POV (Time jumps ahead- Read slowly)
My eyes are resting behind heavy eyelids while I slide my numbed palms on the lukewarm surface.
Glazed tiles.
With floor heating?
Why does my body feel so heavy? Only my hands are allowed to run free on the faintly citrus whiffed floor, the rest of me absolutely mute and still. The only sound in the room echoing is my inaudible breaths and the scraping of the floor beneath me, as I desperately trace for something to bring me back to life.
Pyro.
I perilously try mumbling his name out loud but my mouth once again feels like it has a toad stuck in it. Just like that day, when I freshly had woken up from a coma.
Wait.
Did I fall in to a coma again?
Did...
I-
****
''Y/N! Wait woman you'll-''
I have to save them.
They are all I have left. Just faces on piece of papers. Poems written in books. Clothes, I by the way still pretend smell like them. Vinyl's, stitched sweaters...
Mom.
Dad.
Grandma.
That's all I can think of as I run up the stairs heavily on fire. One of my arms up my face, the other one on my mouth.
I feel like my lungs are on fire when I finally reach my floor, where I smash open the door to the cushy apartment that no longer is.
Most of my things are already lit on fire.
I run my eyes on the spacious room for any piece left of them. Just a little thing that I can cling on to in my unstable future.
I see a photo still hanging on the wall with me and my family in London at the far end of the room. I was only three years old. Dressed in a polka dotted little dress, clinging on to my father. Smiling down at him while he holds me up to the sky.
