Lacy is the most beautiful woman Izuku has ever seen.
She has perfect, smooth, plump skin that lays over her bones like perfect frosting. She has the most gorgeous brown eyes that shine even in the dark and a bright smile that makes them the size of cresent moons. Her hair is black and long, falling down her back like a shiny waterfall. She has a perfect, full body that every model wants, that she shows off with short skirts and low cut dresses. Her hands are delicate, with perfectly manicured nails and an exspensive ring of her ring finger. Maybe Izuku would love her, admire her, if she didn't have the one thing he's wanted since he was five. Maybe he wouldn't absolutely loathe her if Katsuki hadn't asked her to marry him on live television, where she covered her mouth with her hands and cried with her arms around his neck after she accepted.
Maybe he'd be more adament on being her friend if she hadn't invited him to their perfect white wedding.
Izuku stares at the invitation in his hands, the red and purple roses making his stomach twits with disgust. Her favorite color's purple, it goes better with red than green does.
𝐿𝒶𝒸𝓎 & 𝒦𝒶𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓀𝒾
It sounds better, better than Izuku and Katsuki.
12/10
The perfect date, on a perfect snowy day, for a perfect white wedding.
𝒥𝑜𝒾𝓃 𝓊𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝒹𝒶𝓎!
It's a special day, one they'll never forget.
His eyes well up with tears and they drip out onto the white contruction paper, the stain of his tear ruining the perfect invitation. He drops the invitation onto the ground, trading it out for a bottle of hard liquor that's been sitting on his coffee table. He chugs it down, hoping that it'll clean out his rotten mind.
Maybe if she wasn't so perfect, if she was mess, if he was better than her, maybe he could've hated her. But he can't. He's so jealous of her, yet he could never bring himself to hate her. Everything she does is dazzling, she looks like a star compared to him. He's a mess, he's lost it. His image on the screen has been replaced by the shinning couple, talking up a storm about their perfect life and their perfect relationship.
His body fills with rage, not against Lacy, not against Katsuki, against himself. Himself for never taking the step first, for waiting for a daydream to happen without ever opening his eyes. He empties the last of the bottle and throws it against a nearby wall, a sob ripping through his body as he folds over himself. Maybe things would've turned out better if Izuku had never met him.
.
.
.
Izuku tightens his tie, looking in a mirror at his put-together image. The dress code is black, everyone's going to wear black while the bride and groom wear white. So that they stand out, so that everyone looks at them, so that they shine brighter. Izuku's wearing an all-black suit with a black button up, not wanting to stand out in the slightest. If he could just blend in, prented he's not even there, he'll be able to get through their horrid day that will stick onto his calender for years to come.
His dark undereyes are covered in a layer of concealer, applied genourously by Ochako who came over to help him get ready. He can't cry now, it would ruin her make-up, he tells himself. He ignores the bottle of the setting spray she used, water proof. His hair is styled neatly, water and gel keeping it in place and not frizzy or fluffy like it usually is. His red, beaten up shoes are replaced by a nice pair of black dress shoes. His nails are done nicely, no sign of the constant biting showing. He has applied cologne genoursouly, trying to hide the smell of sweat he knows will start to build through the wedding even though he's showered, it's cold and he's applied a generous amount of deodarent.
