𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐲 | 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

¹¹ 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

(Toji)

You're beautiful.

Not the sort that would stick out drastically among a crowd with people turning their heads over to double take, but of a sort that would still stick out among hundreds of people to me.

And it's so head spinning.

Your voice, the tooth-rotting impishness your bring upon my heart, lending your smile and unknowingly soaking my unease.

To me, you're beautiful.

I've come to terms with it the day my eyes traced you, wrote my name like a memory against your mind, that you're so breathtakingly attractive - I almost fall into your flames.

The last time I ever stumbled upon something as beautiful was when she was alive. When I first met her.

And she was beautiful. So beautiful, it was eye-widening. Staggering.

Then, it's odd. How in such less moments, I compel towards you. So odd, I relish in its unease.

And now, in this shop when your sheepish gaze met mine when I through a joke asked the old woman to tell me more about you, I felt something beneath my ribs jump with a kind of erratic motion, I had to take a deep breath. A double glance.

Was I... admiring you?

When did I even start to admire a woman that's not her?

But I'm sure, it's just appearance. Definitely. I mean, who would not admire a pretty woman, certainly not me. (Copium)

My eyes don't leave you as you rush outside the store, a chuckle blemishing beneath my teeth as I breathe.

You're adorable when you can be.

"Ma, can you take care of 'Gumi for a min'? I gotta-" I tell the older woman, who gazes at me with a wide grin, so wide it creases her wrinkles deeper.

"Go, go," She chuckles. I feel an impish shiver run across my stomach as the woman sits where I previously sat. "Make up with her."

I throw on my coat on and chuckle with a small beat.

"Yeah. Yeah, I will."

The moment I walk out of the shop, the searing cold claws at my skin like a dagger seething into my bones, drying off my throat as the withering breeze accompanies it.

Then I find you. Standing by the opaque fog, falling from you lips as your hair sways along the wind, skin bare under the scorching winter.

Silence ruminates around you in a whistle of air, and for someone so cheery and sunshine like you, it chokes against your flames, stealing from it and rendering it into a dark, dark night.

I exhale a breath of relief.

"Am I witnessing a suicide attempt?" I chuckle.

Your lungs are vulnerable to winters.

"Go on," You say, half-embarrassedly, shiver brooking within your teeth as you hold a palm against your shoulder, "I'm not talking to you."

It's ironic for someone who constantly teases scorching hot burns against me.

And seeing your fluttering gaze as I approach you, I memorize the countless specks in your eyes, the way every time you shiver, they dull by a small flicker. So, I undress my jacket and pour it around your shoulders to shield your flames from dampening in the wintery snow.

How amused you've rendered me of my own actions, Y/n.

I chuckle, "Don't die, I haven't gotten my paycheck yet, Ms. L/n." A smirk draws against my lip when I attempt to look away from you, looking at the sky so endlessly dark.