Everyone has a soulmate whether they like it or not. In Himari Todoroki's case she was one of the few who didn't like it. Her soulmate ended up being a rude and arrogant boy named Katsuki Bakugou. At first she despised the fact she was "destined" to...
Thankfully today I got my phone back and I'm no longer grounded, but it's also a Friday meaning we have a family dinner today that father always forces us to attend... Monday's dinner went fine because I kept my mouth shut, the previous one did not go over well, hell I've been grounded for a week because of it!
I've been working on a painting of a lamb I started about a week ago since I got home. I feel like it's missing something though. Maybe the flowers need some highlights. I looked at my phone, it was 8:30 pm.
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I heard a knock on my bedroom door, "Come in." I responded. I set my paintbrush down and looked over my shoulder. It was my father.
"Dinners ready." He looked at my painting, "That's really good. I'll hang it on the wall in the living room."
"Thank you. I'll be down shortly after I put away my paints." I responded, sticking my paintbrush in a cup of water.
He nodded his head and walked back downstairs. I quickly cleaned up my paints and neatly placed them in their proper spots.
The stairs creaked as I slowly walked down them. I sat at the table next to Natsuo. Dinner was spicy tofu and shredded cucumbers on the side. That used to be my favorite when I was younger, but as I became older I grew to hate it. It brings back old memories I don't want to think about.
We all thanked Fuyumi for dinner, everyone picking up their chopsticks and began to dig in. I just couldn't bring myself to do it though.
The meal reminded me of my mother. She always made it on special occasions when father was away for work. I miss her very much, I haven't seen her in eleven years. Fuyumi and Natsuo visit her a good amount so I know she's doing well, but I haven't done so once. I look too much like my father, and if she's doing well I don't want the sight of my face bringing back the memories that drove her to insanity. Shoto doesn't visit her either for the same reason.
"Why aren't you eating?" Shoto asked, munching on a piece of cucumber.
I looked up from the floor I had zoned out looking at, "Oh, um, I guess I'm just not hungry." Which wasn't a complete lie. Sometimes I go through spurts that last a couple weeks where I just can't muster an appetite. It's like there's a pit of dread that swirls around my stomach and there isn't room for anything else. I never know what I'm going to get, some weeks I'm perfectly fine, and others I feel like I'm going to hurl if I dare to even look at food.
My father raised an eyebrow, "Do you feel unwell? You've barely eaten anything this week."
"I feel fine. I just don't like spicy tofu." I avoided eye contact and stared at my plate, the thought of eating it reminding me of the memories I try so hard to forget, in term making me nauseous.
"I thought it was your favorite." Fuyumi stated.
The pit in my stomach erratically twisted, "I liked it when mom made it." I felt a single tear roll down my cheek.
