BAKUGOU, SWEETHEART

bakugou is a kind person.

you let yourself watch the scene play out with nonchalant eyes. you are approximately seven floors above the ground and all your attention is focused on the blonde-haired hero with his back turned. he can't see you. you suppose that both of them can't see you and that makes this situation even better.

you want to see.

you ignore how your palms shake around the warm glass of [drink] as you peer down at them. your foot continues tapping against the ground impatiently. you wonder what you look like. do you look as nonchalant as you think you are? do you look angered, contrary to what you think? what do you look like? do you hate this?

a familiar hand reaches out for bakugou's arm and bakugou does not make a move to swat it away. you scowl but click your tongue soon after. are you angry? no, no, of course you're not.

you have seen this play out years ago already and things went differently then. and of course, things will go the same this time around. you know. you know that's how it's going to happen.

"why?" you remember yourself begging, fingers tightly wrapped around bakugou's wrist, eyes wide and pleading for him to look at you. you still remember the snow kissing your bare arms. you had rushed out immediately from your apartment when you finally understood what bakugou had originally planned to do. "i'm here! i—i like you! so please, won't you look at me?"

you remember his eyes looking at you with conflict. bakugou's eyes has always been expressive and you have normally seen them swarm with rage, never with this confusion and debate obviously going on in his head. you had taken advantage of that confusion, wrapping your arms around him pleadingly.

how far has love gotten you?

"i'll never leave you," you whispered to him in a promise, a vow, a proclamation that you never plan on breaking any time soon. bakugou has felt love once, just moments before you had come to sweep him in your arms, and knowing that has failed, you couldn't help yourself. that was just the first love. those kinds of things don't last. unlike this. what you have goes beyond love. "i'll never leave you, so please don't leave me. please?"

it took him a year and a half to nod at your words and you found yourselves tangling in the sheets, with him hovering above you with anger in his eyes. yes, please, you thoughtt as his fingers bruised your waist, pulling you closer and closer to him in an almost loving attempt for you to never leave his side and of course, you will never, yes—yes please, be angry. you like those angry eyes of his a lot more than the confusion it formerly had.

"you love me, don't you?"

the scene continues to play. first love never lasts. it never does so why are your fingers shaking?—they're not! your fingers shake and before you know it, you're already smashing it on your apartment's floor, anger swimming in your eyes. he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not—the petals fall and your feet bleed when it licks your skin.

"you love me, don't you?"

you stumble to the balcony again, still finding them both talking, the hand still on bakugou's wrist. you can't see his eyes. you can't see his face. is he angry? is he confused? he's not allowed to be confused—your breath stutters when the same hands grab bakugou's cheeks, pulling him in for kiss he does not deny.

"wait," you mutter, "hey, no—that's not fair—"

bakugou suddenly pushes the figure down, his eyes still hidden and you need to see his eyes. you need to see his eyes. you need to see his eyes. you need to see his eyes. let me see his eyes.

bakugou says something to the smiling figure before leaving. he turns away and finally, you can see his eyes.

"that's not fair," you mumble incoherently as his eyes suddenly catch yours. bakugou's eyes widen. "that's not fair. i—i had him first. i took him first."

even when he pauses to fully meet your gaze, even when he finally enters the room and wraps his arms around yours and whisper that 'he will never leave your idiot ass', even when he grunts against your neck as he forces you to stay awake throughout the night, even when he cooks for you the next morning and turns a brilliant shade of red when you thank him, even then—

you had seen his eyes when he turned around.

confused. apologetic. guilty. 'i should have done this—'.

you make sure to wrap your arms around him, letting his scent consume your very body. you had him first. you had him first. you had him first. you had him first. you had him first.

bakugou is a kind person.

you roll to the side of the bed, as your tears sting. your chest curls itself. in this story, you are the absolute bad guy. you are the villain. perhaps, this is the part when you let sweet sweet bakugou go but you're selfish. you're not kind like he is. so you decide on smiling.

you smile to yourself as you turn around again, this time facing bakugou. you giggle against his chest. "i really do love you," you tell him.

he squints at you. "the fuck are you talking about?"

you tighten your arms around him and if he feels your warm tears hitting his naked skin, he does not comment about it. "i love you," you whisper pleadingly and you feel like you're both in high school again, dreaming of heroes and saving the world, "i love you. you—you love me, dob't you?"

he grunts and simply returns your embrace, pulling you closer to him. "the hell are you saying?" he comments before grumbling an answer. "why do you think i'm fucking sleeping in this shitty bed with you? this place fucking stinks and—..."

that's it. that is exactly it.

you don't know why he's here with you.

but he's here.

perhaps that is okay.

(you had him first, and you still have him now. but for some reason, it does not feel like you've won. maybe it's because he had given his heart only out of necessity? what are you talking about? he loves you.

right?)

inspired by one of harada's masterpiece & if you
know who harada is, then, um, hello, we're best
friends now :) also, what do you think happened
[& hello, i'm back in writing this angsty thing bc
yaoi manga makes me cry 90% of the time istg]