✓LIFE SENTENCE|| TodoDeku Au

☆Twenty-Eight☆

~ Third Person P.O.V ~

"Lips blood red, opening a call for you, teeth chattering against the cold in a tuneless song. My heart beats mellifluously in its shackles, each pump of blood it sends for you . . ."
―BisexualCricket, Poetry Journal

*I'm running out of poems, I gotta start writing again XD*

Sweat shined slickly across the nape of Shoto neck, gliding down his now shirtless torso as he moved the last of the boxes in an organized pile on the left side of the attic.

The two had started off with cleaning the dust, grime, and dirt-filled attic; which had ultimately taken up most of their night―early morning. After they had successfully wiped the place spotless they had begun the process of neatly organizing certain artifacts, boxes, clothes, and pictures in order.

Over the course of the past few hours, they had thankfully taken breaks. Going to eat, use the bathroom, etc. 

Izuku knew it was the elder's way of stalling, for he could tell this was quite a hefty load of events he was about to unload on him―so, he gave Shoto his time for he had done the exact same thing for him. And as he handed the boy he loved the final box, he could faintly hear the hammering heartbeat Shoto's heart sounded off as he gripped the cardboard. He observed as the light rush of pink patches blooming and unfurling, painting the pale white canvas of his skin in discolorations.

He had been quiet for most of the time, barely uttering a word when they first began in the dead of night; and saying even less when the sun had flickered above the horizon, flooding light into the small window in the corner. Again, all of which Izuku had respected. For the two knew the burden of anxiety the bubbled within someone when they were about to share something they were reluctant to.

It was silent between the two―as it had been for quite some time―while Shoto sat down on the creaking floorboards. He captured his long-forgotten shirt in between his fingers, however, instead of putting back on he merely wiped some of the perspiration from his body. Of course, it didn't do much, there was no ventilation within the ramshackle walls of the attic; so as the sun rose so did the temperature, replacing the cool night air with humid sultry ones.

Izuku sat down in front of him, neatly folding his legs underneath himself as he stared at the man expectantly.

"What do you want to start with?" Shoto asked hoarsely, his voice taut and strained as he motioned around them. "Just pick up something and I'll tell you about it,"

The younger's green darted around the attic, somewhat appreciating the beauty it reflected. There was something about all the objects in the room that made him oddly feel a lot younger, like when he visited his grandparents at the small age of five, or being dragged to a thrift store by his mother. Finally, his eyes settled on a small, wooden, design engraved jewelry box.

"What's that?" he asked as he picked it up, running his fingers along the cracks and engravings―which appeared to all be handmade. 

Shoto's gaze softened as his muscles relaxed, staring at the box intently as Izuku twisted it in his hands. "It was my mother's," he said softly, crawling closer towards the boy so there was little space between them.

Deftly opening the small metal latch to the box, the box revealed a plethora of jewelry items in it. A shiny pearl necklace, earrings with jewels in them, pristine white gloves. However, there was one piece that stood out the most: It was plain yet beautiful just the same. The band was a bar shiny gold, as if it had just recently been cleaned, gold strips had curled upwards―a small diamond nestled in between them.

"This was her engagement and wedding ring . . . my father didn't have enough money to buy both. But she loved it anyway. After she died my sister, Fuyumi, inherited it . . . Then my brother had given it to his wife after Fuyumi died, and then my little sister, Eri," he explained, melancholy tickling his throat.