A Little Bit Quirky

Chapter 7: Greed

A.N: Next chapter! Thanks for all the support and the plot is going to start moving along now, so I hope you enjoy!

Izuku's P.O.V:
For the rest of the week, I am left to dwell over everything that happened in silence.
I can't tell Uraraka or Iida about it and I definitely can't tell Mom so, I'm trying my hardest to push aside what happened.

But ignoring it is proving unimaginably difficult when ever I see Kacchan.

As soon as I come to class, he is sitting in the chair right in front of mine, leaning back lazily, at lunch he sits at a table with Kirishima and eats while the redhead chatters on, and at the end of the day when I have to go home, Kacchan and I have to cross paths to get to our houses. Each time I see him, I am reminded of his mouth hard against mine, and my tongue skimming his. It's an endless cycle and I can't seem to stop the strange desire that builds up within me.
The desire for Kacchan's taste.

I don't understand it. Do I want to kiss Kacchan again? Why? That's definitely not a normal thought about an old friend. Every time I see Kacchan I get this urge and I have to glance around me to see if any one else has noticed the change within me. Can my classmates see the way my eyes stray from my notebook to Kacchan's mouth, the way my fingers twitch whenever Kacchan walks past, the way my face burns whenever I think back on what happened?
I don't like that I have become conscious of Kacchan. I've always studied him and his quirk and thought about how I could mend our friendship, but now those things are in the back of my mind and I'm wondering what it would feel like if Kacchan kisses me again. Bites down harshly on my lip and tugs it between his teeth. Touches me.
Every time he so much as shifts in his seat, I find myself worrying over whether he's noticed my stare or is somehow aware of my less than innocent thoughts.

Does he know what he's done to me?

Becoming conscious of him has also made me notice something. Kacchan has changed. Sure, he's still fiery and hot-headed, he still challenges Todoroki, he still strives to become the number one hero but, he's also begun to avoid me. He doesn't glare at me, doesn't insult me, doesn't hurt me, doesn't shout at me......he doesn't even look at me. In the corridors he brushes past me, in class he never once turns around to call me useless and whenever I try to speak to him he walks away as fast as he can.
I hate it.
It never once occurred to me that one day Kacchan would ignore me. In my mind there is only two options: he's my bully or he's my friend; he insults me or he encourages me; he hates me or he........
There was never supposed to be a third option. The third option where he completely avoids me, where he thinks nothing of me, where I disappear from his life.
The third option in which I'm a stranger.

It's painful — seeing him right in front of me, so close, I could almost touch him but, separated from me by an impenetrable wall. It's really painful.
Each day, he seems to be getting farther and farther away from me and I'm afraid that one day he'll disappear entirely from my life. I want him to stay, to yell at me, to curse me, to hit me, to glare at me— anything, if it means I'm still apart of him. I don't mind being hated if it means this isolating silence will stop tormenting me. It's selfish to wish for something that might anger Kacchan but, no matter what, I want Kacchan to see me.
To look only at me.
This suffocating feeling, that claws it's way up my throat is growing bigger and bigger each day and I'm afraid it will swallow me whole. When that happens, what will become of me? What will this burning need for Kacchan do to me? The truth is, I've had a taste of Kacchan now.
The feeling of his lips against mine was like a white hot iron that has branded me. His fear, an emotion he suppressed for years bubbled up within him and I saw it. That expression on his face, contorted with the unwelcome feeling that could never suit him – it still plays in my mind.
I felt the hot graze of his fingertips against my mouth, touch gentle and far too memorable. I glimpsed his expression— soft and warm, dusty scarlet eyes of my memories; tender and yet in the strangest way pained.......
Almost like I slipped back to the past, to a time in which we were childhood friends, the memory of Kacchan plants the ruthless seeds of this selfish need for more within me. Each day the need grows and grows, until an emotion foreign and cruel has bloomed within me, no way to suppress it.