[That flinch should make him feel good. Instead, it just hurts, like all the rest of it hurts, and he doesn't know why or how to make it stop.
Shouto wants to argue when Katsuki throws those words at him. Wants to say that he doesn't want him to leave. Wants to ask him to stay. Wants to apologize.
The words stick on his tongue. Instead, what comes out is hushed, and he's not looking at Katsuki at all as he speaks, frozen on the couch like his quirk has malfunctioned. It may as well have, for how cold he feels, how numb except for the stupid searing warmth of his lips and the deep, piercing ache in his chest.]
...Do what you want, Bakugou. You always do.
[Katsuki can have the last word. He doesn't care. He doesn't. He doesn't. And maybe if he sits there long enough, alone in the oppressive silence of his apartment, he'll believe it.]
no subject
Shouto wants to argue when Katsuki throws those words at him. Wants to say that he doesn't want him to leave. Wants to ask him to stay. Wants to apologize.
The words stick on his tongue. Instead, what comes out is hushed, and he's not looking at Katsuki at all as he speaks, frozen on the couch like his quirk has malfunctioned. It may as well have, for how cold he feels, how numb except for the stupid searing warmth of his lips and the deep, piercing ache in his chest.]
...Do what you want, Bakugou. You always do.
[Katsuki can have the last word. He doesn't care. He doesn't. He doesn't. And maybe if he sits there long enough, alone in the oppressive silence of his apartment, he'll believe it.]
He sits there for