✓ ( 𝐂𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 )
❝𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝐷𝑂𝑁'𝑇 𝐴𝐶𝑇𝑈𝐴𝐿𝐿𝑌 𝐻𝐴𝑉𝐸 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑃𝑌; 𝐽𝑈𝑆𝑇 𝑀𝐴𝐾𝐸 𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑀 𝐵𝐸𝐿𝐼𝐸𝑉𝐸 𝑇𝐻𝐴𝑇 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝐴𝑅𝐸.❞
In which she told them lies and he simply got caught in them when he found out.
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THE PERFECT PERFORMANCE
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BAKUGOU COULDN'T GET HIS BRAIN TO STOP. Thoughts of her whizzed around in his head--how her lips felt and the way she tasted. That was all he could remember. His left shoulder still tingled from the last night, where she had held him as she kissed him. He didn't really remember anything after that. All he could imagine himself doing was returning home in a daze and confused as to how he reached his room when he regained his senses.
The thought of her robbed him of sleep and he couldn't stop touching his lips, lamely trying to bring that sensation back. The gruff and usual part of him told him to brush his teeth, wash his mouth to clean every inch of her from him so that not even the ghost of her touch lingered. But he couldn't even bring himself go walk towards the bathroom.
Numbing his brain, he tied his tie in front of the mirror and loosened it like he had been doing since his first year. Sighing when his mind wandered to her, he picked up his bag from its place at the foot of his bed and walked out the door of his dorm room. His mind unconsciously wandered to her, wondering what she would be doing.
◇
She placed her hand on the barre in her basement, thinking about the last night's events. She surprisingly had a good night's sleep and she had enjoyed the kiss.
The kiss wasn't like the others she had shared with other guys. He hadn't kissed back and it didn't really matter to her. But she really liked the way his lips felt against hers. For once, it felt nice chasing after someone who wouldn't chase her back. She could always get whoever she wanted with her charming looks and charisma. There were only a few handful of people who didn't want her in return, and she liked that about them. Bakugou was one of those few people.
She danced her dance that her bespectacled teacher had choreographed for her in the empty space of her basement. She, of course, wasn't going to school today. She had spent weeks altogether practicing for the show that she had to perform today evening. The small hopeful yet hopeless part of her hoped to see Bakugou or even her parents sitting in one of those front row seats designated for the parents of the dancers. Her parents never attended any of her performances and she was okay with that... to some extent.
If she hadn't gotten good grades in her 3rd grade, she wouldn't be able to dance. It was just a childish deal that was struck between her and her parents. "Get good grades and you get to join that stupid dance class," she remembered her mother saying to her. And she had retaliated with, "It's not a dance class! It's ballet!" She had earned a smack on the knuckles with a ruler for that. By afternoon, before lunch, she changed out of her practice clothing after practicing for four hours.
