What the hell does she want to talk about?

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Authors note:

I'm not dead and neither is this story ʕ••ʔ

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  "Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap."

Bakugou mindlessly drummed his mechanical pencil against the pages of his open notebook as he stared out the classroom window. He was lost in thought while waiting for Kirishima to finish the practice test he'd made for him.

As he sat, incessantly tapping, he conducted a mental retrospection of the completed items on his daily itinerary:

5:45 am - Wake up

6:00 am - Run 10 kilometers

7:00 am - Spar with Sero and Kirishima

7:45 am - Shower and dress

8:15 am - Breakfast

8:35 am - Home Room

8:45 am - First Period

9:35 am - Second Period

10:35 am - Third Period

11:35 am - Fourth Period

12:30 - Lunch

13:35 - Fifth Period

14:35 - Sixth Period

15:25 - Cleaning duty

16:25 - Tutor Shitty Hair

17:50 - Meet with Uraraka to talk

The most dreaded item on his to-do list was quickly approaching.

What the hell did she want to 'talk' about?

He'd spent a good portion of his Sunday night playing through potential scenarios over and over in his head. The way he saw it, the impending conversation had a high likelihood of being one of three potential outcomes:

Potential outcome one: She's done with him, she doesn't want to see him any more.

Potential outcome two: She's done with him, she doesn't want to see him 'like that' anymore. But, she still wants to keep sparring with him, or be friends, or whatever.

Potential outcome three: Fuck this game! Like he had any idea what she was going to say!

What was the point of going over this again and again when he had no fucking clue what she wanted to talk to him about! No matter what he came up with it was only speculation. He was already bad at understanding his own feelings, how the hell was he going to understand hers?

Last night was throwing him off. It had definetly been good, soooo fucking good. But, it hadn't been the reason she'd come to see him. She'd said she wanted to talk, and she was serious too. He could tell by the way she scrunched her goofy little eyebrows together that she meant business. She always made that face when she was determined to do something.

But she didn't end up getting her 'talk' last night, not after the sneaky shit she tried to pull.

He'd managed to counter the little ambush attack she'd tried to land on him, pinning her against the washing machine he'd been loading when she pounced. After that he'd just kinda-, well she'd just kinda-, he supposed they both just kinda took it a bit further than expected. They hadn't followed any of the ground rules they'd set, the situation had been too distracting. Nothing could have made him give a flying-fuck about any rules once she'd started to wiggling her round little ass all over his crotch. Neither of them had fulfilled any of the agreed upon terms of their bet, but that hadn't stopped them from fucking on top of the UA washing machines.

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⏰ Last updated: Oct 27, 2019 ⏰

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