Inmate

𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚎

Bakugou loosened his grip on my wrist and looked away.

"You.. You don't know that."

"Hurt me now then. Do it." I stared at him, bringing his hand up to my throat.

He looked at me, his breath hitching.

"Go on, tighten your grip and hurt me." I gave him a genuine smile, feeling him slowly start to tighten his grip.

"Kill me if you have to, Bakugou." He closed his eyes, shaking as he kept tightening. The inside of my head started to feel like cotton. My vision went in and out as I was beginning to find it harder to breathe.

He was stronger than I thought.

"I.. I can't fucking do it." He let go, caressing the spot he was gripping.

"I told you. I know you won't hurt-" I started.

"But I did. There's a bruise." He cut me off and looked at the mark on my neck.  The blonde looked at the mark before staring up at me, hesitant. 

"That doesn't matter. I just know you won't do it again. You had trouble even tightening your grip." I grabbed his hand carefully, holding it and rubbing my thumb in circular motions on the back of his hand.

Both of our faces were tinted red. He cleared his throat and pulled his hand away.

"Anyways. What the fuck do you want me to draw?" He growled, returning back to his usual attitude.

I handed him my notebook and a pencil.

"Draw how you're feeling.." I glanced at him as he stared down at the paper.

He didn't draw anything. 

"Give me a peppermint."  He barked.

He held his hand out and looked at me.  I hastily shuffled through my bag, pulling out a peppermint for him.

Angrily opening the wrapper, he popped it in his mouth and aggressively crunched down on it.  I cringed at the sound.

He gripped onto the pencil, slowly drawing a circle, then quickly scribbling across the page.  He groaned once he made a rip in the page, tearing it out of the book and crumbling it up.

He stared at the fresh page behind the one he had torn.  He slowly and carefully scribbled, then went back to his fast and aggressive motions.

I looked down at the page.

"Hm.. Explain that to me.. Why does this represent how you're feeling?"  The scribbles filled the white spaces.

"I don't.. know how I'm feeling. I'm fucking confused, alright?" He gave the notebook and pencil back to me so I could jot down what he said.

I nodded and wrote, beginning to look up at him.

"What is it you're confused ab-"

My eyes widened, dropping my things from my hands.  I was cut off with the feeling of his lips on mine.

His large hands were gentle as they held my cheeks, kissing me with those surprisingly soft lips of his. I couldn't bring myself to kiss back, seen as I was so shocked. I had to push him away, but I couldn't.

Slowly, I melted into the kiss, letting my eyes close and my lips sync perfectly with his. I've never felt this before. I've never felt so.. alive.

Father's going to kill me.  He already doesn't want me close to this guy as it is.  I'm going to get hurt if I let this go on. 

But fuck.. this feels so good.

My hands slithered their way up to his chest.  His bare chest.  I felt the bandages, which reminded me that he was hurt.  I was careful as I held onto the muscular man in front of me.

The kiss was deep, passionate. Yet it was so loving and comfortable. It wasn't forced.  It was different compared to.. never mind.

Before our tongues could meet, he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine as he panted heavily. My lips felt so lonely without his.

I was disappointed. I wanted to feel that sensation again. I want his soft, warm lips pressed up against mine.

Wait.. what the hell am I thinking?

I could feel his warm breath hitting my face, his gentle hands still holding me.

Tears filled my eyes as I looked at him, breathing the same way he was. I was shaking, my body heating up.  This is wrong.. so wrong.

"Th..This is what I'm confused about." We gazed into each other's eyes.

I'm royally fucked.