The Class-Field/Trip

(ง'̀-'́)ง

𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯

Eyebags scolding us wasn't so bad. The bad part was dunce faces not so secret smirks and faces at me and Kirishima. That is something I could honestly live without. I don't know how nobody gets tired of his stupid face.

The sponge water gets all over my shirt, knocking me out of thought. I really don't want to do stupid laundry. My hands scrub the cold desk harder. (Why's a spider just chilling on me) Kirishimas mop in the distance has me looking over.

It was worth it. His back is nicely formed as he continues to mop. Kirishima looks over and flashes me a smile. That blinding kind of smile, the one I can never look away from. His dumb attractive face...

"Is something wrong?" Kirishimas stares at me in confusion.

"Screw off" is something I would only reply because telling him that he makes my heart beat out of my chest every time I glance at him would have both me and him wondering what just came out of my mouth.

He nods turning back to his task.

"Atleast stare when im not looking" he shrugs causing me to let out a string of silent colorful cursing. Damn shitty hair. What did I do to deserve you.

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The bed welcomes my figure, allowing me to sink down into it. Sometimes I believe I need a bigger bed, from the way it's pushed up against the dresser.

When closing my eyes it stings, have they been held open for far too long? Is it because I need more sleep? Or is it because of my screen. How they tell you to not be to close because it will mess up your eyes.

I never really figured out what caused my eyes to hurt when I try to keep them closed. It's hard to sleep but so fucking hard to get up.

The warmth around me is unbearable. The shirt I'm wearing sticking to my back that's coated in sweat. Pulling off the shirt and snuggling into my blanket just feels worse. I can feel every crevice, dent, and roll that my body has for me.

I dislike the feeling of my body, just the feeling, the way the air hugs it in a cold hug. The way the sheets scratch against my body. It hurts. My hand racks up and down my body, the warmth no longer provided.

The caramel sent sticks to me, leaving me smelling like fucking candy. Disgusting.

I don't know how those extras put up with me. Yelling at them all the time. Hell some of them even flinch. What is wrong with me.

Shit I feel disgusting.

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The knob faces towards hot more than cold. My skin rubs against each other, the only noise is running water and scrubbing. The foggy mirror projecting the surrounding wall and sink.

"Fuck..." my hands grip at my body, scrubbing all over. "Shit"  the skin turns red as the beats of hot water hit it.

The cold wall offers comfort against the raging heat of the water as I snuggle into it. My body in a pile against the corner. Avoiding the water.

My body aches but that doesn't stop my scrubbing.... from remembering. The whimpering that's escaping me bounce against the walls echoing pitifully back to me. Laughing at me.

The roots of my hair get tugged on, causing pain through my body. Shampoo studs pour down my face, the water covering my eyes. I don't know if it's water or tears but I'm glad for it. Crying is weak. Crying is pathetic.

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