Silhouette | Suicidal Todoroki x Bakugou

24 | Lonely

A/N:
thank you all for being patient for this update. i hope this story is interesting enough to be worth reading until the end, because although not a lot is happening right now, a lot happens later. i'm incredibly grateful to those of you still reading.

Shouto Todoroki

Black. All Todoroki could see was black. A black stretch of infinity slumbered within his eyelids, unspooling into rigid eels that formed the silhouettes of everything in his room. He even felt an all too familiar sensation of a thousand threads of silk that brought to his mind one color: black.

I miss sleeping beside you, Todoroki inwardly sighed while stroking his fingers through Momo's hair. Are you still busy tomorrow? I guess I should have known. That's always how it is. He turned onto his side to face his wife, and in the blinding darkness, he could sense that Momo was awake.

"I wish we could have more time like this together," Momo's silhouette whispered. "I know things are difficult, but please hang on for me, Shouto. I'm right here, and I always will be. I love you..."

Todoroki felt something warm caress his cheek. As long as you're here... he thought while succumbing to the soft, blazing euphoria of his lips meeting Momo's lips. As long as you're here... I want this to be eternal. I want this love to be eternal. I want us to be eternal. Just like this... His legs tangled with Momo's legs as the two embraced beneath the warm, silky bed sheets.

Yet, although Todoroki could not recall falling asleep, he presumed he must have when he opened his eyes again to the early morning light spilling into his room like pink lemonade. Snuggled up against a warm, soft body, he held his pillow tight to his chest, cognizant by the light that his wife was no longer beside him.

In fact, no one was beside Todoroki. Bakugou had returned home the night prior to feed his cat and meet with a few of his friends; he'd offered for Todoroki to join, but Todoroki promptly declined.

What time is it? Todoroki wondered while fumbling for his phone. Six? I still have an hour. Get up, get ready, make food, take Mai to school, go to work, go to the store with Mai, go home, make food... A long sigh spilled from his throat like a stream of water. I can't... But I have to. Get through it, Shouto. It's nothing. It's not about you: it's about her. You have people relying on you. You didn't pick this job for nothing, either. Stop being useless.

If you're going to beat yourself up for every single thing you do, you might as well stop existing. Wouldn't that be easier? Wouldn't that solve all your problems?

But it wouldn't make me feel loved.

You're only thinking about yourself still? You don't deserve to be loved. Just be content knowing you'll be forgotten when you die.

I really don't deserve it when I'm seeing someone behind my wife's back. I feel... I don't know. I don't feel anything, yet I don't feel good. I feel physically sick. What else could go wrong in a matter of minutes? What next?

After piercing his own mind with invectives to get up, Todoroki equipped himself with a steamy freshness and peered into his foggy, dripping reflection. He glanced from scar to scar and cut to cut, and then, at the whole of his slimmed-down figure.

How do I gain back what I lost when I don't have an appetite and have no energy to work out? Todoroki wondered, recalling his past proportions. What do I do? Would he think I'm ugly if I got too thin? Would he not like me anymore? Would he leave me? Shaking his head, he took up the blade he'd been using daily, and sometimes, twice or thrice daily. Ugly. Weak. Useless. Selfish. Self-centered. Lazy. Ungrateful. Disloyal. Pathetic. Useless, useless, useless... For each self-degrading remark he had to say to himself, he sliced into his left wrist. It doesn't matter anymore... There are already scars that won't heal completely. I already fucked it up. I add more cuts every single day, but I'm never completely satisfied. When is it enough?