☆Mishaps & Strawberry Milk☆ {Shouto Todoroki x (Writer!) Reader}

~Side Story: To My Love~

      For season 9 of The Walking Dead, fucking hype. May or may not be based off of Carl's letters—Angst, yay
—————
       To My Love,
      Remember that one time you asked me if I was Nemuri's secret love child? I was completely and utterly confused. Were you joking? Were you serious? Those thoughts ran through my head.
       You were so intimidating until that point. I thought you were some demon who took form as an angsty teenager. When I saw you were serious, I lost it. Todoroki Shouto, the child of the great Enji Todoroki, was a total dork who made ridiculous conspiracies.
          After that, I kinda clung to you. We became so comfortable with each other. I saw that your eyes did not hold a hateful gaze, but a lonely. You're so sweet, and well—a total loser, but my loser. A loser that enjoyed soba, but only the kind that was cold.
       Well, sorry about my tangent—or is it one? Anyways, nowadays everything is so grey. The geeks are rotting away, and their once vibrant clothes are sullied. All the trees and flowers seem so dull to me. But you, god, you. So colorful, gorgeous, my light in the dark. Jesus, I'm starting to sound as cheesy as you—gosh...
        When those geeks first came, when my world was falling apart, when I was a second close to blowing my brains out, you came to me. Stuck you calloused hand out to me, and told me to live, survive.
       Many nights I wondered why I listened to you. Being on the brink of dehydration and starvation, daily, wasn't exactly luxurious. But then I remembered all those times we'd sit by a fire and bask in each other's presence, how we'd tell idiotic stories to entertain one another, play Goldfish for the nth time with our worn cards.
        Now, since we've made base at U.A with some, good, people, everything has been getting better. Hell, we even had a proper date here. We've been making great memories. Now that I'm leaving, promise me you won't be such a recluse.
        What's that boy's name again...Midoro? Midoriya? He seems nice, and genuine, make friends with him. Do not blame him, or yourself for what happened to me.
        Now listen, if you've gotten this far reading my poor excuse of handwriting—I applaud you. Finally, Todoroki Shouto I love you, my partner in this apocalyptic wasteland, my personal heater, and cooler. You're such a damn dork...

Signed,
(Name) (Last Name)

P.S
Do me a favor and name a baseball bat after me.

      Todoroki stroked the slip of paper. He massaged each marking created by his tears. He felt so utterly alone...numb. Emotions he thought he no longer felt resurfaced. He felt himself shatter...
      Knock, Knock
      "Todoroki-kun, we've found her body. Would you like us to bury her....? Or...?"
       The scarred male slowly clambered off of his cot. He grabbed his combat boots, and slipped them on. He staggered to the door, at this point he was no better than those cannibalistic corpses. He opened the chipped door; which emitted an obnoxious squeak.
      "Take me to her."