✓LIFE SENTENCE|| TodoDeku Au

☆Twenty-Two☆

~ Third Person P.O.V ~

"My eyes do what my lips cannot fathom, kissing your skin in delicate flutters. My lips do not speak words they long to taste, locking them in the prison of my tongue . . ."
—Another shitty quote by me, honestly just expect that from now on

Izuku stared in awe as the exited the car. The sun had barely begun to dip below the horizon, creating a glowing yet eerie effect on the scenery surrounding him. Wild stray strands of emerald locks fluttered aimlessly in the wind, his nose dusting a light pink from the bitter cold simultaneously as his feet dug into the gravel below. 

The house was rather large, crafted of white painted wood, metal linings, and stone. It was old, that much was evident by the moss and vines grappling underneath the structure of the porch; or the rust that had accumulated on certain metal frames and linings on the house. A white picket fence encircled around it, digging into the dirt and gravel and grass. A large oak tree stood tall on the house's right side, the branches and leaves cowering over the roof and casting a shade that ran from the tree's trunk to the end of the porch. 

Izuku's head snapped towards the tree at the slow creaking of the tire swing that was wrapped around the largest branch.

"And this is your house?" Izuku asked, still in awe as Shoto led the way up the porch's steps; the wood creaking underneath them. 

"Mhm," his reply was rather strained, Izuku knew that something was bothering him. Perhaps it could be the Monoma situation, that seemed most likely to the younger. 

The elder's hands shook as he reached for the key shoved deep within his pocket, the small trinkets attached to the holder jingling and clinking together as he inserted it into the lock. Just as he was about to open it he stopped midway. Shoto inhaled deeply, knowing that once he opened the door there was no turning back—that he would have no choice but to stay there with Izuku. His reasonings were logical, Monoma had no clue about this specific house a few hours away from the city—it was the perfect place to stay for the time being.

. . . But the memories attached to the house were everything but pleasant.

"Hey—" Izuku placed a gentle hand on Shoto's shoulder. "—if this is about . . . you know who, just try not to think about it. I'm here,"

His comforting words nearly made Shoto laugh. If anything he had anticipated more from Izuku, he was still waiting for the full breakdown that he is certain was rising within the younger. Shoto knew that him crying in the car was only a small part of what was bound to come . . . so, why hadn't it?

"We just ran into your abusive ex merely hours ago and you're comforting me?" Shoto chuckled lowly, using his free hand to gingerly run it through Izuku's curls. "You're . . . how do you say? . . . Ass-backward. You're ass-backward, Izuku,"

A teasing smirk arose to the freckled male's lips, curving them slightly as an unknown glint sparked in his eyes. "You know," he began offhandedly, "You're only proving my whole 'Old man' joke by what you just said, right??"

"And the moments over," Shoto drawled, dragging the 'and' out from the beginning whilst pushing the door open.

Before the younger could tease him any further he was instantly engulfed in an overpowering aroma of a myriad of things. The first, and most distinctive smell, was cleaning supplies—from top to bottom the house smelt as though it had been freshly cleaned. Thoroughly, too. Shoto felt along the wall until he found the light switch, the kitchen, and living both being illuminated with the blinding glow from above.

They were met with a short hallway when they first walked in, the walls plain and decorated with a mirror on the left and an abstract portrait on the right. Down the end of the hallway was the kitchen, which was split down the middle—on one side the refrigerator, counters, cabinets, a sink, and a dishwasher lay. While on the other side a stove, microwave, counters, cabinets, and another refrigerator rested. The flooring and walls of the kitchen all a blistering white.