If Love is Wrong

TW: There will be some violence, a sexual scene and graphic language. 

Bakugo Katsuki - 7:28 PM

Ever since Deku has gotten those quirks, he's been acting different. Different in a way as if he's moved on from giving a damn about me. Maybe he has. I shouldn't care but it bugs me. Why does he get to act all high and mighty just because he caught up a bit with the rest of us. I lean over to grab the white mug with warm tea in it, swirling around as I pick it up. My hand brings it up to my mouth and I take a sip carefully. God it's just so taunting. He shouldn't be this repugnant to me. I place it back onto the black table in the middle of my dorm. It's been a while since I've seen him. Recently he won't leave my mind, it's as if I'm a middle school girl crushing on some weird ass guy. Maybe if I told someone about what's bothering me or some shit, I'll be able to move on, even if only a bit. I sit up from my comfortable spot I had been in and dig my hand into my pocket to retrieve my phone so I can call someone who wouldn't fucking dare say a word about this. That girl with the weird eyes, Mina? Ya, Mina. I look through my contacts, focusing on each name that begins with "M" until her name pops up. I click on it and press the message button. If she says anything about anything I'm ripping her fucking head off. And then my fingers start moving. Along the keyboard up and down creating the vaguest sentence ever. "Come over" As weird as she is I've heard others say she's good with giving advice, but I think she just likes the sound of her own voice. Still worth it, I guess. I press the sent button and wait for a reply, although I didn't need to wait long. Damn she types fast. "Omg Bakugo WANTS me to come over?? What for?" She types so... her. I'm not about to tell her I need help. Jesus why does she have to know. Can't she just come over without making a huge deal about this. And again, my fingers tap the screen. "Just come over." And that did it. She sent a reply telling me she would come over in a few, by a few she meant a millisecond. I hear a knock. As I get up, I notice a text from Deku, who I thought I had blocked. I ignore it because I currently have something as equally as annoying as him to do. I open the door and see Mina who's wearing a ridiculously bright yellow tank top and some black sweatpants. I "invite" her in as she barges through the door relentlessly questioning why I asked her here. "Fuck, Calm down. You're so obnoxious, just sit down." she neglects the rude, but true comment and sits down on the floor at one end of my black wooden table. I walk around to sit across from her, and as soon as I do, she asks again. 

"So why DID you tell me to come over? Do you have a crush?" she teases irritatingly. If this were about a crush, she would be the last person I ask for advice from. 

"No, dumbass. I don't know why but Deku has been on my mind a lot. I just hate him so fucking much and I need to know how to get it off my mind. I thought telling someone about why I hate him would be the solution but now that were here this feels stupid as hell."  

She looks confused and begins to speak again. "Oh well why do you hate him? I mean, did he do something to you?" I glance up at her and kind of just, I don't know, think. I do hate him, but shes right. I don't really have a reason. He has a reason to hate me, but what is mine? A minor headache forms in the back of my head and I get a feeling like I want to yell at someone.

"Not really. He's just always irritated me. I don't know how to describe it, it's like something about him has changed that makes him seem different than before." 

"Maybe you're just- starting to like him? What if you just see him differently because of your own sense of him, not how strong he is. Like, you could be seeing Midoriya in a different light?" The words spill out of her mouth, yet I still don't understand myself. Like? What does she mean by like? I told him to fucking kill himself a few years ago and she's suggesting I could see him as an equal? My head tilts downwards and I take a sip of my tea again. I could tell my face was scrunched up in a frustrated looking way. She leans forward. "Are you sure you hate him?" It's as if she's trying to piss me off. 

"What the fuck does that mean. Of course I hate him." I reluctantly snap at her. 

"Listen Bakugo, you asked me for advice. So, here's what I think. You're so sure about your opinion of Midoriya but you haven't even attempted to see him in an abstract view. How the hell are you supposed to understand what you feel if you aren't even trying to feel it." She states it so strongly that it seems as if she's trying to sell me something. Maybe she is. This feels like shit.

"What do you mean when you say I'm not trying to feel it?" The only reason I'm not yelling at her is because I actually care at this point. I've made it too far to just let this go to waste. 

"You keep trying to put a label on your emotions before you even know what they really are. Like, say I loved this guy, but he kept saying rude things to me and I feel something really intense that I presume as "love." But it turns out I hate him. Yet It took so long for me to realize because I had put a label on it instead of understanding what it was before hand." She explains. All this conflict is just making me fucking annoyed. Shit. What if she's right? I glimpse at the table and stare at it blankly. What if I- No. Fuck no. 

"Get out." It's a faint perplexed whisper but she can tell I needed her to leave. When I heard the door slam, I waited a few minutes before texting her the word "Thanks." I felt like I was obliged to, so I did. My head hurts and my chest is set on fire in such a tense, complex way. Sleep it off are the words that come to mind, so I shut the lights off. I check the time on my phone, and it clearly and brightly states 7:53 PM. I let my body shift onto the bed as I lay there. My body and face feel relaxed even with the constant pounding in my head. My hearts racing. I might understand it. But I refuse to let that happen, because if it does, I'd never be able to forgive myself. Stop thinking, I tell myself. I turn over and my eyelids can't help but fall.