kirishima hasn't put thought into a relationship in years, him claiming he's been focusing on his career as japans 5th top hero had him busy. but that doesn't help numb the haunting fear that he's going to be alone the rest of his life. so when his...
⋅˚₊ ୨ VIII ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ————✧₊˚{symphonia ix}⋆⁺₊✧———— chapter song-million dollar man-lana del rey content warning-weed consumption
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kirishima groaned as he was woken up from his nap by the feeling of his small orange cat walking up his bare body. kirishima had the past three days of work off, but izume hasn't. she has work the dreadful afternoon shifts, meaning he couldn't make excuses to be able to walk her home. he actually hasn't seen the girl in two weeks. the girl had left for a week to visit her brother and had only been scheduled to work three days the week after her trip, and every time she worked, it wasn't any late hours.
the more time kirishima has spent without the yellow-eyed girl, the more time he has spent thinking about the yellow-eyed girl.
when he ate alone at his table, when he watched a movie marathon by himself, when he pulled his hair back, when he saw the color red, when he slept, worked, showered, and listened to music, all he thought about was izume. he especially thought about her when he lay in his bed, his arm stretching out, it seemingly feeling freezing ever since the girl had let it go two weeks back. his collarbones were bruised with the feeling of her head resting on them. his hand would attempt to mimic hers as he ran his fingers against the scar he hated most.
the man wanting to escape from his thoughts opened the drawer to his black nightstand, opening the box that sat in it. revealing his stash of rolled paper filled with his favorite hallucinogen that he bought for nights like this. where all he wants to do is shut the voices talking to him in his head the fuck up.
he grabbed the one that sat on top; he placed it on his lips, along with grabbing the lighter that was also hidden in the box. after the man shooed the small cat out of his room, he moved to sit on the corner of his bed, the window beside it open wide, the cold air biting at his bare upper body. cupping his hand around the flame so he could light his blunt.
the taste of burnt weed and cherry from his wrapping paper of choice filled his taste buds as he laid his head back against the window frame, blowing the smelly smoke past his lips and out the window. knocking the ash on the end onto the red ashtray. after a few more hits of his blunt, he smashed the heat out of it. knocking off the excess ash on the windowsill. before placing the leftovers back into the small box.
kirishima wasn't aware, but he fell asleep. him sort of upset he slept through the main high form his stash. turned his head, rubbing his eyes, bloodshot red eyes, with his palm. his eyes looking at the empty half of his massive mattress. kirishima just noticed how bland this apartment was.
when kirishima became a pro hero, he had nothing other than the occasional fast food and hair dye to spend his money on. so when katsuki's lease was up on their apartment, he had nowhere else to put his money other than a massive apartment on the good side of town. he had bought the home fully furnished as well, but after being in izume's tiny, cluttered apartment, it having knickknacks littered on the wood shelves that clung to the white walls and windowseats, the long, colorful rugs that lay in her hallway and tiny kitchen he could barely turn in. old posters and framed photos against the bigger empty walls with plants hanging from the ceiling. he was hit with how dull his own was.
the blank walls, or his massive panes of glass that lead to a patio that looked over the city, the two chairs that sat there. the kitchen that had enough room for a whole soccer team, it seemed.
the high man grabbed his phone, checking the time and to see if izume had texted him. seeing it was almost seven pm and the girl hadn't tested anything other than responding to his good morning text earlier that day.
the man stood to his feet yawning as he walked into his bathroom. him ducking down so he could see more than the lower half of his head in the reflection. he groaned as he could visibly see his black roots that grew in. he pulled his fingers through his hair. there was at least two inches of the ash black color in his hair. he had been putting off doing his hair for the past month, explaining the mass amount of regrowth.
kirishima's red eyes looked back at themselves as he thought to himself, fuck it. walking back into his room and lying on his stomach as he opened messages on his phone
