Transferring into a new school made new feeling inside of her. What starts off as fighting and always bickering the two grew fond of each other and it didn't take long before one thing lead to another. it was always something new to him and with tha...
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(If you don't like u pick ur own fit 😕) I stood by the park entrance, the cool autumn air biting at my cheeks. The park was quiet, the only sounds coming from the rustling leaves as the wind gently tugged them from the trees. Golden sunlight streamed through the branches, casting shifting shadows across the path. It was peaceful here, but the tight knot in my chest wouldn't let me relax.
I pulled out my phone, checking the time again. Bakugo was late, which wasn't like him. I looked down the path, squinting as the sun dipped lower, creating long stretches of shadow across the grass. Just as I was about to text him, I spotted his familiar figure approaching, hands stuffed in his pockets, the usual scowl etched into his face.
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(Bakugo's outfit)
"Yo, Y/N," he called out when he got closer, his voice rough as ever. "What's this about? You look like shit."
I sighed, ignoring the jab. "Nice to see you too, Bakugo."
He stopped in front of me, crossing his arms over his chest. His crimson eyes locked onto mine, sharp and focused, like he was already sizing up the situation. "So? What's going on?"
Taking a deep breath, I glanced around, making sure no one was nearby before speaking. "It's about my mom... and something I saw. I think—I think I saw one of her memories."
His expression didn't change, but I could tell I had his attention. "Saw? Like a vision or some shit?"
"Sort of," I said, rubbing my temples. "When we hugged last night, it was like something triggered. I got pulled into her past, and it wasn't just a flash. I was her, Bakugo. I could feel everything she felt, hear her thoughts. I was a little girl. Her. And my grandfather... Jonathan Cresswell... he wasn't a good guy."
Bakugo stayed quiet, his eyes narrowing as he processed what I was saying. The wind picked up, sweeping some leaves past us as we stood there. I could feel the tension between us, like the air was thickening with the weight of the conversation.
