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lilyvandersteen · 4 years ago

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The Christmas Guest Chapter 4

Author’s Note:

Thanks to @redheadgleek‘s Write a Little Every Day project, this chapter is done much earlier than I’d hoped, yay! Enjoy the snowball fight, and Blaine realising that (HUGE SPOILER) he might actually like Kurt for real. Who’d have thought, huh?

Read Chapter 1, Chapter 2 and Chapter 3 here on Tumblr, or read the story on AO3 or FF.net.

Chapter 4: Sweet Surrender

In spite of his nocturnal trip, Blaine woke up early, and decided to dress and get downstairs to see if Kurt needed something.

When he arrived in the living room, Kurt was sleeping peacefully. The snoring had stopped, and when Blaine checked his forehead, he was glad to find the fever had subsided too.

“Good, you must be feeling better already,” Blaine murmured, grabbing the blanket that had fallen off Kurt and tucking him in again carefully. “I’m going to let you sleep a little longer.”

As he tiptoed out of the room, he was greeted by Carole.

“Morning, Blaine! You’re up early!”

Blaine smiled at her. “Good morning, Carole. Yes, I’m an early bird. Always have been.”

“Best let the others sleep another while, or they’ll be grumpy. Come to the kitchen, we can make a nice breakfast for everyone.”

Burt came downstairs as soon as the smell of bacon started to spread.

“Bacon!”

Carole shook her head at him. “Not for you. We don’t want you to have another heart attack.”

“Just one rasher? It’s Christmas!”

“In two days.”

“Oh, come on! Please?”

Carole gave in. “All right. One rasher. But then I don’t want to hear any more complaints about the healthy food I’m serving you the rest of the week. Deal?”

Burt sighed. “Okay, okay.”

Carole winked at Blaine, who suppressed a snigger and busied himself with setting the table.

When he had nearly finished his plate, he heard a groan coming from the living room.

“Ah, Kurt is waking up!” Carole said. “I’ll make him some eggs too.”

“I’ll go see if he’s okay,” said Blaine.

He arrived just in time to keep Kurt from face-planting, and escorted him first to the bathroom and then to the kitchen.

After pouring Kurt a mug of tea and adding a generous spoonful of honey, Blaine sat down again to finish his own breakfast, smiling at how out of it Kurt still seemed. He didn’t seem to be sniffling or coughing anymore, though. That was good.

They made cookies after breakfast, and it made Blaine’s feeling as if he’d stumbled headfirst into a Hallmark Christmas movie even stronger. Kurt was clearly an experienced baker, whipping up two kinds of dough in no time, and letting Blaine eat the scraps.

Then Kurt’s stepbrother Finn arrived, all six feet plus of him, his size and demeanor reminding Blaine of the jocks who’d bashed him into hospital before he transferred to Dalton Academy, and he shrank into a corner until Carole introduced him to Finn and he got a smile and a hug from the gentle giant, who seemed genuinely pleased to meet him.

By the time they had all decorated the tree together, Blaine’s worries had evaporated, and he enthusiastically agreed to a snowball fight in the garden.

He and Finn were having so much fun goofing off that it took some time for them to notice that Kurt had joined them.

Unlike them, Kurt hadn’t chosen to just grab some snow, pack it together and throw it. No. Kurt had chosen stealth and strategy. He’d built a shield he could hide behind, he’d made towering stacks of snowballs and had even fashioned some kind of sling to be able to throw the snowballs further.

He also had deadly aim. His first snowball hit Finn straight in the chest, with so much force that he almost fell over.

“Uh oh,” Finn said. “Okay, man, we’re going to have to team up, or we’re toast.”

The two of them hid behind trees, but every time they ventured forth from their hiding place, they were pelted by such an onslaught of snowballs that they couldn’t get round to launching an attack of their own.

It took Kurt only ten minutes of this to wear them down. By then, their coats and trousers were white with snow and pretty much soaked through.

“Aw, man, this isn’t fun anymore!” Finn complained. “Kurt, why do you always take these games so seriously?”

Kurt appeared from behind his snow shield, his clothes as good as pristine, his stance regal and his eyes blazing with determination. Though Blaine had suffered just as much as Finn and was just as ready to give up the fight, he thrilled to this version of Kurt, who looked magnificent. It lit a flame somewhere within and made him forget all about his freezing fingers and toes.

“Do you surrender?” Kurt asked, his chin up and his back rigidly straight.

And ugh, the steel in his voice made the fire inside Blaine burn even brighter.

Finn shrugged. “I guess. I’m going back in.”

“I surrender,” Blaine answered, not entirely capable of keeping a quiver out of his voice.

Something sparked into Kurt’s eyes, and he started coming towards Blaine without looking away even once, but a mere two foot from him, he seemed to change his mind and veered off towards the house. “Let’s get inside, Carole is going to make us hot chocolate.”

Blaine felt himself deflate. What had he expected to happen, exactly? Why was he all a-tingle like this? And what was this strange energy between him and Kurt?

A sudden gust of wind made him shiver and hurry to the back door. Hot chocolate sounded heavenly.

When Blaine came in, Finn was complaining again, this time about the seating arrangements in the living room. As victor of the snowball fight, Kurt had claimed the big sofa for himself and Blaine, and forbade Finn to squish in too.

“You can take the loveseat,” Kurt said.

“That one’s hard as a rock!”

“Sit on the floor for all I care. The sofa is ours! Come, Blaine! I’ve got your hot chocolate right here. That will warm you up.”

Blaine accepted the mug gratefully, holding it with both hands to get his fingers warm again, and drinking deeply.

Ah, that’s better!

Finn stomped out of the room in high dudgeon to go complain to his mom, but Carole agreed with Kurt.

Blaine saw Kurt grin in satisfaction, and the grin only widened when Finn came back in and found fault with his film choice too.

“Seriously, man? I wanted to watch Die Hard!”

“I won the fight, so it’s my pick.”

“Burt, back me up on this, come on!”

Burt looked up from his newspaper. “We can watch Die Hard tomorrow.”

Kurt added, “Now stop being a baby about this. Either shut up and watch, or go do something else.”

Finn looked mutinous, but plonked down on the loveseat and shut up.

Kurt hummed along with the opening music and pulled Blaine a little closer still. His arm around Blaine’s middle felt both possessive and grounding. Blaine felt the spark from before rekindling, a jittery feeling that made him want to… What? He didn’t even know, but he wanted. Oh, he wanted!

“What is it?” Kurt murmured. “Are you uncomfortable like this?”

“No, no.”

Blaine wiggled until his head fit exactly into the crook of Kurt’s neck, and then let himself sink into Kurt’s embrace. “Perfect.”

He felt a laugh rumble through him, and Kurt’s hold tightened infinitesimally.

“Good,” Kurt whispered, and softly kissed the crown of his head.

Blaine felt his lips stretch from ear to ear and closed his eyes to bask in the feeling of utter contentment that washed over him.

He couldn’t imagine anything that could ruin the moment now.

Of course, that was because he forgot about Finn.

“Mom, I’m hungry! Can I have some more cookies?”

“You already ate them all, hun!”

“So when’s supper?”

“After the movie.”

“But I’m hungry!”

Finn disappeared to the kitchen, grumbling under his breath, probably to search the pantry for snacks to tide him over until supper.

“Want a chocolate chip cookie?” Kurt asked Blaine softly, holding out a cookie tin and looking very smug.

Blaine burst out laughing. “Is this still payback for Finn putting snow down your shirt?”

“You know it! Also, I wanted to save some cookies for us. Finn ate all the shortbread and the last of the sugar cookies before we even got a chance to have some. Greedy pig!”

Blaine took a cookie and savoured it. “These are the absolute best.”

“Mmm.”

However lovely it was to cuddle up with Kurt, Blaine became uncomfortable after a while because his wet trousers felt cold and clammy and seeped all the heat out of his legs.

“I’m going to put some other pants on,” he whispered to Kurt. “I’ll be right back.”

That promise fell into the water when Cooper called him while he was in Kurt’s room, blathering on and on about all the fancy parties he’d been to and would still be going to.

It took nearly an hour for Coop to stop talking about himself and to ask what Blaine was doing for Christmas.

“I’m in Ohio,” said Blaine.

“But Mom and Dad are on a cruise!”

“Yep. Thanks for telling me about that, by the way. How long have you known?”

“Oh, they told me this summer, I think.”

“Lovely.”

“You didn’t know?”

“Nope. Flew out here for nothing.”

Cooper whistled low. “That sucks. So you’re all alone for Christmas?”

“No, actually, I’m not.”

There was silence at Cooper’s end. Then he asked, “So… You’re saying you’ve been hooking up with Sebastian again?”

“What? No! Ugh. Coop, please. As if! He cheated on me!”

“So who’s with you, then?”

“Kurt. I’m staying with his family.”

For the second time, his reply managed to silence Cooper.

“My boyfriend, Kurt, remember?”

“Um, no?! Now who’s forgotten to tell their brother something?”

Blaine laughed. “Well, it’s recent, so that will be why. I probably haven’t called you yet since we became an item.”

“So… Tell me about him.”

That was all the prompting Blaine needed to start singing Kurt’s praises, and it wasn’t until he’d rung off that he realized two things.

One: he’d referred to Kurt as his boyfriend without even thinking about it, whereas they were only faking a relationship. He’d regret that later, since Coop would tell their mom for sure, and he’d have to hear about it for years.

Two: he desperately wished they could be boyfriends for real. Somehow, in what the Warblers would call a classic Blaine move, he’d fallen for Kurt. Hard. And in a matter of days. There was no way this was going to end well. He was so screwed.

#klaine fanfiction #my fic #The Christmas Guest #chapter 4 #enjoy!

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suilinbride · 5 years ago

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There is a flame in my life that keeps my work going, but its embers barely glow. I put so much energy into fanning it, with very meager results. If it keeps going like this, I wonder if the fire will extinguish despite my efforts. I'm prepared to deal with challenges, but I wonder if there is something fundamentally wrong that I could do better? Any advice is appreciated. Thank you.

Okay, I’m finally done and finished with this shufflemancy reading. Yay! I apologize for taking so damned long with it. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong during the time between when I received your inquiry and this evening. I had to take care of my mom once she got out of the hospital, I had to help my brother remodel and restore the bathroom, which isn’t quite finished yet and probably won’t be for another week or so, and in the end I came down with my own bout of sickness.

Good afternoon (or good evening, depending on when I’m able to get this to you) Sithi!

Okay, here is your reading through shufflemancy. I had to do this a couple of different times because the first attempt didn’t feel right. Actually, this one still doesn’t feel completely right, like I’m missing something, but the messages through the music stopped flowing for me once I got to a certain point. I feel like this is telling me that what I got for you is the best they can share or have about the situation at hand at the moment but there’s possibly more to it that is out of reach at the moment for one reason or another. It could simply be that the remainer of it all hasn’t been put together yet? Or that the time isn’t right for it.

Anyway, here you go. I hope this helps. Please feel free to contact me if you have any questions or need a follow up for it.

Also, one last thing before I properly begin with your reading: Tumblr is weird and tends to remove formatting of all posts I attempt to answer with so please let me know if the reading is hard to read as Tumblr tends to mash together all paragraphs when I answer an ask like this. I could fix it if I was posting this publically on my blog, but I’m sending this to you privately, so I thought I’d warn you just in case Tumblr gets all weird regarding the formatting again. I’ll do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen but my best isn’t always good enough.

Okay, so I just want you to know that while I listened to the songs I received for your reading, I couldn’t help but think that the songs are talking about a person when refering to your flame. I don’t know (and I don’t need to know, honestly),if the flame you mentioned is a person in your life, like a human, or an otherworldly being or entity like a deity, spirit, etc. It could be a concept for all I know but the method by which the songs speak to me have all of my being thinking and feeling that it’s a person of some kind or at least they are treating your flame like a person regardless.

So, with all of that out of the way, For your reading, I received the following songs:

“Whose Got My Back” by Creed.

“Watching Over You: by Alter Bridge. "Reality” by Staind. “For You” by Staind “Now and Never” by Godsmack

“Here We Are,” by Breaking Benjamin “You,” by Breaking Benjamin “You Could Be Happy,” by Snow Patrol

“Call Me,” by Shinedown

Before anything else, I wanted to know the answer to the specific question you asked in part of the overall inquiry about if the fire would go out if everything stays the same and if you don’t do anything fundimentally different to fix it.

So, with that in mind, I decided to ask and received the song “Whose Got My Back” by Creed.

Also, before the song began playing, I got the word “yes,” for the question through my natural capability of second sight. My capabilities with second sight and other similar things are very limited at the moment for a number of reasons, which I am working on fixing and mending, and I was suprised to observe it come up while I was listening for your message. That happens on occasion but it’s not a thing that happens too often.

Honestly, this song is one of sorrow, loss, anger, and yet hope at the same time.

And this is where the music starts treating your flame as a being or entity. The song has strong Christian hints and connections, which is not suprising, taking the beliefs of a number of the musicians, the lead singer most of all, into consideration. Still, there is also some Native American chanting featured at the ending of this song, so the being, entity, force in question, could be whoever or whatever the person interacting with them/it perceives as.

“Run…hideAll that was sacred to usSacred to usSee the signsThe covenant has been brokenBy mankindLeaving us with no shoulder…with no shoulderTo rest our head onTo rest our head onTo rest our head on”

In essence the answer to your question is most likely yes: Your flame is going to go out, completely, if you don’t do something important, drastic, fundimental, massive, life changing?

Both the tone of the song and the tone of the feel of the message I got from listening to it in the context of receiving a message for you, as well as song of the lyrics make me think that part of the problem is on your end. I get the sense that something you did along the way was the cause of the problem, the beginning of the decline if you will. I also have the feeling that it wasn’t intentional on your part nor that you are (most likely anyway)aware of you did or didn’t do (as the case might actually may be) that caused the problems you are facing.

“Who’s got my back now?When all we have left is deceptiveSo disconnectedSo what is the truth now?”

I feel like this chorus sums up your current situation in a way. Things are wrong, declining, possibly ending, you aren’t sure how to fix it, and thatthere could be a sense of distrust on how to go about fixing it, if there is a way of fixing or even turning things around, or that your flame will co-operate even if you do so.

“There’s still timeAll that has been devastatedCan be recreatedRealizeWe pick up the broken piecesOf our livesGiving ourselves to each other…ourselves to each other\To rest our head onTo rest our head onTo rest our head on”

The second verse is much more hopeful in tone. I honestly feel like there is a chance to fix it, to turn things around, and get the flame roaring again to the point that it doesn’t die down to embers or go out completely. There is, however, also a chance that you might need to find or light a new flame altogether. Either possibility is just as likely as the other.

The next grouping of songs I received for you feels like a weird back and forth between you and the current state of your flame, though I’m not sure if it’s one you realize or are aware of. It could be as simple as feelings and impressions sent back between one another.

The next song I received for you, as well as the first song of this second grouping, is “Watch Over You,” by Alter Bridge.

“Leaves are on the groundFall has comeBlue skies turning greyLike my love”

I feel like this is the state of things that has been going on for a while now with you and your flame. The flame’s ability to inspire, to work with, to embue you, to assist you in whatever way it used to do is waning, fading, disapating gradually as time goes by. While there is this feeling that part of the reason why this has been happening comes from your side of things, as with the song “Whose Got My Back,” I feel like there is an aspect, a strong aspect on a spiritual level, if nothing else, where your flame is fading or dying in some kind of way.

“I tried to carry youAnd make you wholeBut it was never enoughI must go”

Your flame was very happy to burn and light up your light and work, guide you through your manner of doing things, but is getting to the point where it can no longer assist or support like it used to all the time. There is a strong bitter sweet note coming from your flame, I feel like the flame is happy that it was able to help you up until now, but is sad that it’s running out of resources, of life, of essence that keeps it there to inspire and guide and empassion you to do what you do best. There is also a strong feeling of self pity and grief, as it doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to abandon you, but it’s kind of powerless at this point to stop what is happening at the moment.

I also got another strong confirmation from my second sight ability, telling me that yes, we’re on the right track with the way that this reading is taking.

“And who is gonna save youWhen I’m gone?And who’ll watch over youWhen I’m gone?”

Your flame is deeply sad and scared to leave you, to leave behind the work it helped you with, but it’s more worried about who or what is going to aid you, guide you, inspire you even if or when it is gone? I feel a strong sense of hope. Hope that it can be recycled or reincarnated? In a fashion to aid you better in a different form. Or hope that if the worst does come to pass and it disappears for good, that you can find another flame to light your way.

“You say you care for meBut hide it wellHow can you love someoneAnd not yourself?”

I’m getting a strong feeling that this little grouping of lyrics is pointing to part of how you helped with with the disolution of your flame’s essence and influence.

While I think and feel that this only illuminates a small part of what happened or didn’t happen, as it were, on your part, be you aware of it or not, that you somehow didn’t show it the correct emotions in graditude or thank and celebrate it in the fashion that it needed to sustain itself.

I got yet another yes through second sight, telling me that while this isn’t the whole of what the problem was caused on your end, it was an important part nonetheless.

And I just got yet another yes through second sight, once more, confirming that whatever part you played in this situation was something you were mostly or even wholely unaware about as it gradually happened.

“And when I’m goneWho will break your fall?Who will you blame?”

What? Hmm, I wonder if this points to another aspect of what happened? Did you ever blame your flame or something that whent on or happened? Even if the “blame” was a spur of the moment kind of thing?

Also, I feel like another aspect of the flame’s disolution lies in some kind of situation where it sacrificed part of itself to mend or make whole something you were working on or attempting to create and your lack of bridging the gap or breach, giving up a small part of yourself to make the flame whole again, helped further the flame’s disolution.

“Snow is on the groundWinter’s comeYou long to hear my voiceBut I’m long gone”

This last bit of lyrics from this song is simply what will happen, what will be the outcome if you aren’t able to revive and rekindle your current flame.

Another bit of confirmation through second sight, telling me while it’s possible to revive this particular flame, the possibility is fleeting to say the least.

Next song I received for you and the second song in this second grouping of songs is “Reality,” by Staind.

“Reality,” is a song about and dealing with mental health and mental health problems, especially the kind brought about by the person who is suffering from them, be it from denial or through drug abuse, and the person or people in their life that are trying to reach out and help them.

For the context of this song’s lyrics regarding your situation, it’s not talking about mental health at all, at least I don’t think so and I’m getting overwelming sense that it’s not, but is instead the perspective of of your flame in how it perceives your part in the situation and the flame’s lack of success of attempting to reach out and communicate with you on how to fix the problem before it’s too late.

“the lights are on but you’re not homeyou’ve drifted off somewhere alonesomewhere that’s safe,no questions herea quiet place where you hide from your fears”

Your flame feels that you abandoned it when it needed you the most, especially back at the beginning of the situation where this could have been easily solved. It kept reaching out, trying to communicate with you but you couldn’t hear or sense them properly?

“sometimes when you’re out of ropethe way to climb back up’s unclearthe walls you build around yourselfi guess they also keep you hereare you afraid of what they think?whoever "they” happen to beor are you hiding from the scars of your own reality?“

The flame feels like you ran and hid from the situation when things kept getting worse and when all of it’s attempts to reach out and communicate with you failed.

"so you sedate and drown in vainyou’ve got a pill for every daya suit and tie to mask the truthits ugly head is starthing to show through”

The flame has been doing it can to lessen the pain it’s been going through as well as numbing the problem it has been feeling on it’s end. Which is where the first bout of your feeling the spark starting to dim and faint. It’s been reserving as much energy, energy that it used to give you in abundance when it worked together with you as an equal, but it’s efforts were only really a stop gap at best and didn’t fix the problem on it’s end at all.

The next song I received for you is “For You,” by Staind. This song is about family abuse and neglectance, especially from the perspective of the child.

Like with the previous song, I have an overwelming feeling that with the context of your situation, this song isn’t talking about the exact same thing, but is instead how the flame perceives your reaction upon noticing it’s gradual disolution.

“so you sedate and drown in vainyou’ve got a pill for every daya suit and tie to mask the truthits ugly head is starthing to show through”

Your own attempts to connect with and communicate with this flame fail epically. So the problem of connection and communication isn’t just a one way problem, like how the flame perceives it to be. Your attempts to do more, to stoke it’s fire more, is your attempt to reach out to it further in bigger, better, maybe even more desperate ways to get something to stick, to get something to work, to have some kind of solution at hand.

“I sit here locked inside my headRemembering everything you saidThe silence gets us nowhere!Gets us nowhere way too fast!”

You remember all the good times you had with the flame, working as a team, working in harmony, creating and bringing forth such beautiful and interesting things. The contrast with how it is now, with everything so terrible, has you exhausted, dispairing in a way.

“The silence is what kills meI need someone here to help meBut you don’t know how to listenAnd let me make my decision”

Yeah, it’s a fucked up situation for sure. Getting nowhere, not having a clue how to proceed, and not having any noticible or tangeable results or reactions from the flame isn’t helping anything whatsoever.

“All your insults and your curses makeMe feel like I’m not a personAnd I feel like I am nothing butYou made me so do something‘Cause I’m fucked up because you allNeed attention, attention you couldn’t give”

Whatever you said or thought in this period of time is what the flame took as a demeaning, disencouraging, manner that helped fuel it’s desolation. I feel like whatever it was or what the flame perceived it as was something said or thought in the spur of the moment. Something you would not usually say or think with a better head or heart.

Next, and the final song of this second grouping of songs is “Now or Never,” by Godsmack.

“Can’t remember my name, can’t remember at allFinding you from past times, I think…How did we ever fall?Never knowing the answers, calling myself namesNow is not the question for uswill it ever be again”

If the flame isn’t at this stage of disolution yet, it shall be soon. And when that happens, any sense of knowing or reckonizing you or what you once did together will be gone as if it never happened in the first place. Your flame is on the last embers of illumination, the flame all but dead at this point, and the fuel for it’s fire is empty.

“Why don’t you just fly, fly to me?How long will you wait for me? Never?Now or never again”

Once this state of disolution is reached, the point of no return is at hand. You will need to find a way of rekindling the flame and bringing it to new life, or finding and kindling a new flame altogether. Now is not a time for doubts or second guessing. If you even have a instinctual idea of how this could be done, you need to do it now or risk losing this particular flame forever.

“Feel me up inside you, how you quiver and shakeCan I rake you back to my life?Will you trust me again? Now or never…I’ll never let you down, so fly to me!”

For if you are able to rekindle this particular flame again, properly, there is a strong chance that you can keep this flame burning strong for a very long time moving forward.

And now, for the last grouping of songs. First, I received the song “You,” by Breaking Benjamin for the first song of this final grouping of songs.

“My hands are broken,And time is going on and on, it goes forever (how long).So I got high and lived all that life that I’ve taken all for granted.

Being at a disavantage or not being able to work or create at all, as is the case with the gradual disolution of your flame, has left you a shadow of your former self. This is where the exhaustion comes in.

Not being able to figure out the best way of fixing things, assuming that things could be fixed in the first place drove you up a wall, left you in a daze, or some other kind of state of disconnect and it has only harmed you as time went on and things got worse.

"Promise me you’ll tryTo leave it all behind,'cause I’ve elected hell,Lying to myself.Why have I gone blind?Live another life.”

In some ways, your flame is wishing you would go ahead and find another flame to inspire, illuminate, and guide you as it is almost dead and snuffed out. It wants you to be happy, to be at peace, to work again and be at harmony with what you do. Even as it slowly loses what made itself unique in the first place.

“The only way outIs letting your guard down and never die forgotten (I know).Forgive me, my love,I stand here all alone, and I can see the bottom.”

You’ve either already have or will soon experience the worst moment of this entire situation. The first step to healing and solving the problem and situation is to open yourself up all the way, be raw and vernable to whatever may happen. Letting down your guard in such a way will allow the process to begin.

Next and the second song in this final grouping of songs is “You Could Be Happy,” by Snow Patrol.

“You could be happy and I won’t knowBut you weren’t happy the day I watched you go”

While it’s possible to rekindle your flame’s life and light, the possibility is slim and always so fleeting upon the moment. Instead, your flame wishes that you would do what was best for yourself, even at it’s own expense. though it wishes not to part from your side, your happiness and wellbeing is the most important thing to it.

“Is it too late to remind you how we wereBut not our last days of silence, screaming, blur”

Though it does indeed wish to hold onto what’s left of it’s existance. It doesn’t want to leave or abandon or let you down in any way possible. It clings to what’s little is left in it’s existance.

“You could be happy, I hope you areYou made me happier than I’d been by far”

In the end, if the end does come, it wishes you find another way to be happy, to be fulfilled, to keep moving on without it.

“Do the things that you always wanted toWithout me there to hold you back, don’t think, just do”

It believes that you will heal and be happy again once you find or kindle a new flame.

Next, as the third song in this final grouping of songs, is “Here We Are,” by Breaking Benjamin.

“Sing it for me,I can’t erase the stupid things I say.You’re better than me,I struggle just to find a better way.”

By this point, if things haven’t changed, your flame is gone for good. It hurts and there’s probably a part of you wishing you knew what you could to fix things before they became hopeless.

“So here we are, fighting and trying to hide the scars.I’ll be home tonight, take a breath and softly say goodbye.The lonely road, the one that I should try to walk alone.I’ll be home tonight, take a breath and softly say goodbye.”

It will take a little while for you to heal enough on your own, to find the energy again to seek for or to light a new flame out of your life and to illuminate and inspire you once more.

The fourth and final song in this final grouping of songs is “Call Me,” by Shinedown

“"Wrap me in a bolt of lightningSend me on my way still smilingMaybe that’s the way I should goStraight into the mouth of the unknownI left the spare key on the tableNever really thought I’d be able to sayI merely visit on the weekendsI lost my whole life and a dear friend”

The process of finding and/or igniting a new flame will be a tedious, epic, and hexhausting journey that will put you to some, if not all, of your current limits and maybe even beyond them.

“I’ve said it so many timesI would change my waysNo, nevermindGod knows I’ve tried

Call me a sinner, call me a saintTell me it’s over I’ll still love you the sameCall me your favorite, call me the worstTell me it’s over I don’t want you to hurt It’s all that I can say. So, I’ll be on my way”

You will need to exanim yourself and your life. Once again you are going to need to be completely open, honest, and raw with yourself and the forces of what ignites such flames in the first place to begin again anew.

“I finally put it all togetherBut nothing really lasts foreverI had to make a choice that was not mineI had to say goodbye for the last timeI kept my whole life in a suitcaseNever really stayed in one placeMaybe that’s the way it should beYou know I live my life like a gypsy”

The process is going to be one hell of a journey and will cost some kind of price. Some sacrifices will need to be paid to progress from one side of things to another. There are things that you must find yourself to give up and sacrifice to have again what you once lost.

Okay, that was an intense reading full of pain and sorrow. I hate having to give insights and/or answers like that but hey, insights, wisdom, inspiration, and enlightment can be just as dark and ugly as it can be light and beautiful.

Like I said towards the beginning of this reading, feel free to contact me if you need/want a follow up reading done or if you have any questions about this particular reading. I hope it helps in some way!

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megwritesfanfiction · 6 years ago

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Disclaimer: I do not own Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia. This is a work of fiction that I am not making a profit off of.

A/N: You guys... I have had so much caffeine it’s ridiculous. I did not think I was gonna get this updated this week, but it's done! Thanks for all the hearts, kudos, and comments! They keep me warm and going! <3

Chapter One: Tumblr Chapter Two: Tumblr Chapter Three: Tumblr Chapter Four: Tumblr Chapter Five: Tumblr

Chapter 6: “Fuck you and your word a day calendar!” Chapter Summary: “That word a day calendar seems to be doing wonders for your vocabulary,” Bakugo snorted, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt.

“I know what the word break means.” Kirishima finished the last of his water with a loud sigh. “Today’s word was perfidious for your information.”

How ironic.

Since he was forced to sit and listen to his mother scream about her ruined kitchen table, Bakugo decided to use that time to think.

His father was right.

He enjoyed being around Uraraka.

She was one of the few people who genuinely didn’t vilify his behavior. It took his classmates awhile to get used to his behavior, but none of them really understood him like she had.

Yaoyorozu, Tokoyami, and Shoji would typically shoot him a look of disapproval before ignoring him.

Iida would shout about how he needed to contain himself or give a lecture about how unbecoming his behavior was.

Mina would shake her head and sometimes fan the flames of his irritation.

Kaminari would tell him to calm down which was probably one of the worst of reactions.

Kirishima tried. As much crap as Bakugo gave the redhead, he could never say he didn’t try to understand him. A lot of the time, it felt like Kirishima wasn’t unsure how to handle his outbursts. There were times he got it right, but there were others he poured gasoline on the already unstable combustion.

Midoriya was the person who surprised him the most.

For all of Midoriya’s insight, he never understood that his anger was a defensive mechanism. It took the two battling it out and an overflow of trauma for Bakugo to breakdown in front of his rival. The things he’d said and done were unforgivable. Bakugo wouldn’t ever try to excuse them but he could never stop himself from wondering why hadn’t Midoriya seen his fear.

Uraraka treated his temper and brash voice as a part of who he was and embraced it. Rather than cringe, she’d smile and continue talking to him.

It reminded him of how his father spoke to his mother when she ranted or her voice raised.

Sometimes she’d throw a smart comment back at him and they would end up trading snarky remarks back and forth. Uraraka wasn’t afraid to go toe to toe with him, and she didn’t treat him like he was unstable.

When he challenged her, she rose to meet him before surpassing him with a challenge of her own.

Who wouldn’t want to hang out with someone who you could have fun with, who understands you, and could trade sarcastic little quips with?

Bakugo decided after dinner that he would send her a text message.

Casual.

Not intimidating.

The method also gave him the ability to control the conversation and carefully craft his words.

He’d survived his mother’s scathing eulogy about her destroyed dining room table while they ate dinner in the living room without saying a word surprisingly. Anytime he felt a remark itching on his tongue, he shoveled another mouthful of curry into his mouth to stop himself. Arguing would draw out the already painful sermon his mother was screaming. He almost laughed at the sight of his father’s eyes bouncing between them in confusion as he remained silent.

When Bakugo finally made it to his room, he dropped to the edge of his bed to realize he didn’t have Uraraka’s phone number.

“Of fucking course,” he growled, cradling his head in his hands. He’d worked up the nerve to message her, not that it was a big deal, and he didn’t even have her number.

To be fair, he didn’t have a lot of his classmates’ cell phone numbers. The only reason he bothered saving Kirishima’s number was that they regularly worked out together, and the rest of the idiots in their group had come with the package.

Yaoyorozu had made a class directory and group chat during their first year, but Bakugo had dismissed that and destroyed the email as soon as he’d seen it.

“Fuck.”

Much to his regret.

He didn’t think that about two and a half years later he’d regret not participating in idle chatter, questionable memes, and whatever stupid antics went on there.

Bakugo huffed, scrolling through his contacts.

Someone had to have her number.

Calling Midoriya was out of the question. The two of them hadn’t called or texted since middle school, and Bakugo planned on keeping up the streak. The only reason he had his information was because he’d have to go to Midoriya’s house after school or sleep over when his parents had to work late.

After Midoriya, Ashido would be the person next likely to have Uraraka’s number. Ashido was also a terrible gossip and probably wouldn’t give up the information unless she knew why Bakugo wanted it.

Kaminari wasn’t smart enough for discretion. It was unlikely he even had her number. The moron would probably go to the group message to ask her for her number and tell everyone he asked for it.

He could probably trust Jirou. The two of them had oddly bonded over their love of skulls, but she wasn’t someone he really knew. It felt weird asking her for a favor, and it would be even weirder if she didn’t have Uraraka’s information or questioned why he wanted it.

Bakugo sighed, stopping on the only person he could call in this situation. Clicking on the name, he held the phone against his ear as impatiently waited for an answer. “Oi, Shitty hair…”

There was always Kirishima.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

URARAKA, 12:12PM

Please tell me we aren’t getting soba noodles tomorrow.

MIDORIYA, 12:15PM

Lol! It’s the one thing we know Todoroki will eat.

URARAKA, 12:15PM

That boy needs some variety!

MIDORIYA, 12:16PM

I’ll leave that conversation to you then.

URARAKA, 12:18PM

I am in no position to tell anyone anything. I have been engaged in an epic battle with the copier all morning, and I am losing.

MIDORIYA, 12:18PM Heroes don’t lose. Defeat is NOT an option, Uravity!

URARAKA, 12:18PM

It is after 4 paper jams and having to replace the toner.

MIDORIYA, 12:21PM

Work study fun, eh?

URARAKA, 12:25PM

Work study hell…

URARAKA, 12:25PM

I mean, It’s nice I got to get back to campus earlier and get settled. Plus I’m getting paid… But, DUDE! I’m pretty sure I’ve gone through an illegal amount of paper.

MIDORIYA, 12:26PM

It can’t be that bad.

URARAKA, 12:27PM

Sent a photo

MIDORIYA, 12:27PM

Holy crap…

URARAKA , 12:28PM

Indeed. You would not believe the liability forms. These things are amazingly thorough.

MIDORIYA, 12:30PM

Oh I believe that! I’m pretty sure some of those are because of me!! Lol

URARAKA, 12:30PM

Probably! Lol

URARAKA, 12:31PM

You problem child you!

MIDORIYA, 12:33PM

I’m not the one sneaking out with the class bad boy…

URARAKA, 12:34PM

….

MIDORIYA, 12:34PM

URARAKA, 12:36PM

I would like to say something very rude and unpleasant to you, but I can’t because you’re my best friend and you covered for me so I’m giving you until next semester until I fight back…

MIDORIYA, 12:37PM

You ask him out yet?

URARAKA, 12:38PM

Let the boys know that I’m good for tomorrow

MIDORIYA, 12:38PM

Is that a no?

URARAKA, 12:39PM

Also tell them no soba noodles!

MIDORIYA, 12:39PM

At least give him back his hoodie

URARAKA, 12:39PM

The hoodie is mine. It still smells very nice and it’s cozy.

MIDORIYA, 12:40PM

Thief

URARAKA, 12:43PM

Yes, but ANYWAY! I g2g, Mic just came in and I think I have more copies to make.

URARAKA, 12:44PM

… Yay…. NOT

MIDORIYA, 12:45PM

Later!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“You know,” Kirishima panted, collapsing against the gym mat. “When you said you wanted to hang out-”

Bakugo rolled his eyes, blinking back droplets of sweat gathering on his lashes. He dropped his back against the concrete wall and lowered himself to a wall sit to rest.

“I figure-” He shrugged taking in a large gulp of air as his muscles burned with exertion. “Oh cool, we can go to the movies, play some games at the arcade, go on a hike, go shopping-”

“I fucking hate the mall...”

“That!” he wheezed, pointing at his friend with a small sneer and shooting him a sharp glare from bleary eyes. “That is not the point! If I knew you were going to torture me-”

To be fair, torture wasn’t really his intention. “How is this different than any other workout during the school year?” Just an added bonus of his little scheme.

“It’s different because we’re on break!”

“Not an excuse to be lazy.” Red eyes drifted toward the black and yellow gym bag resting under the bench by the wall. He could see that obnoxious Crimson Riot charm dangling next to a cartoonish turkey leg from here. How the hell did those things not get in his way when he used his phone.

“Dude!”

He just needed a minute.

“Not an excuse to be lazy?!”

Two at most.

Kirishima rolled up with a groan as he reached for the half-empty water bottle. Ripping the cap off, he shook his head at his friend. “The word literally means to stop or pause,” he started, taking a large gulp of water. “That means we shouldn’t be here!” His arms flailed around the empty training facility.

“That word a day calendar seems to be doing wonders for your vocabulary,” Bakugo snorted, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt.

“I know what the word break means.” Kirishima finished the last of his water with a loud sigh. “Today’s word was perfidious for your information.”

How ironic. “Are you done whining?” Bakugo questioned, clearing his throat and forcing a scowl on his brow. A lump of guilt settled in his stomach as he focused on the task at hand.

“No.”

“The sooner we finish the sooner we can get something to eat,” he commented, walking over to the redhead. Bakugo lightly kicked his side. “Round three, shitty hair. Let’s go.” He looked back to the phone.

“Next time you get the twisted idea in your head to ‘hang out’, I’m picking what we do,” Kirishima huffed as he took a deep breath.

Maybe he wouldn’t notice it if he grabbed it now. “Okay.”

“Brunch, then the arcade.” Maybe drag Sero and Kaminari just in case Bakugo decided to pull this little stunt again so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone.

“Noted,” Bakugo nodded as he moved toward his gym bag to grab a towel. “Now get the fuck up.”

“Fine,” Kirishima groaned, moving to his feet wobbling a little bit. “Let me get some water.”

Finally.

“Some of us are trying to enjoy our break without getting heat stroke.”

“Tch.” Bakugo turned away from his friend as he listened to his footsteps fade. The water station was located about a couple of yards outside of the training facility. Knowing Kirishima, he would fill his water bottle and then take a couple sips off the top before refilling it again.

Two minutes.

Two and a half if Kirishima decided to take his time.

Taking a quick glance behind him, Bakugo dived for Kirishima’s phone. Since when had that idiot put a passcode on his phone?

“Shit…” he hissed, thumbs tapping against the sides of his phone. He’d start with the obvious.

1-0-1-6

Bakugo growled watching the screen shake as his attempt was denied. “What the fuck else could it be?”

It had to be something simple.

Kirishima wasn’t the brightest person in their class. His password would be simple and easy for him to remember. If it wasn’t his birthday, then there was a small possibility it could be Ashido’s. Bakugo didn’t know Ashido’s birthday. Quite frankly, he was impressed that he knew Kirishima’s.

His eyes narrowed as he studied the bubbles above the number pad. “Why the fuck are there five?” Bakugo hadn’t noticed the small cue when he first picked up the phone. “Can’t be a birthday then…”

What the hell else could it be?

It wasn’t a birthday or any other date for that matter.

He wouldn’t use the first five digits of his phone number.

Their student ID numbers contained seven digits.

Kirishima’s dorm number only had three digits.

Unless it wasn’t a number.

6-2-6-5-9

The phone unlocked with a little click sending Bakugo to the main screen. He wasn’t sure who to be more upset with. Kirishima for actually setting his passcode to be ‘manly’ or himself for knowing to try it.

Bakugo quickly found his contacts scrolling through the list. Thankfully his friend kept his contacts organized and labeled properly even if he did use an obscene amount of emojis to label each person listed in his phone. He found her name toward the end with a star next to it.

His eyes scanned over the number.

URARAKA OCHAKO

90-7827-3--

“What the hell are you doing?”

Bakugo’s shoulders stiffened as he looked at the redhead standing a few feet in front of him. His eyes drifted back to the small red phone in his hands and back to his friend.

“Well?” Kirishima questioned, disapproval on his face.

“I, uh-” He looked back at the phone as he focused memorizing the phone number. “I just had to call my mom.”

“So use your phone.”

“Battery is low.” A part of him wished he could just message the phone number to himself, but Kirishima would see it the next time he went to text him.

“Since when do you ever call your mother?”

Unless he deleted the message from Kirishima’s chat history. “Since I got in trouble last night for destroying the kitchen table.” He was already caught.

“I’ve watched you blow holes in the wall while calling your mother a ‘fucking bitch’ to her face and all of a sudden you have to call her?”

He’d forgotten about that. “Yeah.” How the hell was he supposed to send himself a contact on this piece of crap? On his own phone, there was an option for it under the contact name.

“For what?!”

“I’m not going to be home for dinner.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Kirishima screeched with a bitter laugh as he stomped over toward him.

There it was. “No.” There was a button at the corner of the screen for more options.

“Give me my phone.”

“One minute.” Bakugo pivoted back, moving the phone out of reach.

“It’s my phone!”

“I’m not scrolling through your stuff!”

“Well,” Kirishima gritted his teeth as he stepped in front of his friend. His arms folded in front of his chest. “You’re not calling your mother either.”

Bakugo sighed, dropping the phone to his side. “I need to use your phone.”

“For what?”

Jaw clenched and lips tightened, he turned his head away as he felt his ears burn. The more he tried to find the words to explain the dumber it felt tickling at the edge of his tongue.

“Well?!”

“Why is this such a big deal?”

“Umm-” Kirishima snapped back, eyes furrowed angrily. “I go to get water, you’re going through my phone without my permission, and you have the nerve to sound offended?”

If there was ever a time for him to feel like a complete asshole, now was perfect. He’d managed to betray one of the few people who sincerely tried to put up with him. “Look-”

“Yeah, gimme my phone,” he lunged toward Bakugo, tackling the blonde to the floor.

“Hey wa-”

“I said gimm-”

“That’s my side you asshole!”

“Well my knee wouldn’t-”

“I can’t breath! Y-”

“You can breathe. If you couldn’t you’d be quieter…”

Smart ass.

“And I’d have my phone. Give. It,” Kirishima commanded, tapping him on the head like a naughty puppy.

Bakugo growled loudly, face sinking into the mat as his body relaxed. He could easily overpower Kirishima. For all of his fury, the redhead had left his arms open despite placing a knee to his back. All he had to do was flash an explosion in his face to blind him and roll him into an armbar. “Fucking fine.” But that would make him an even bigger jerk.

“Good boy.”

As soon as Kirishima removed the knee from his side, Bakugo scrambled to his knees. “Here,” he grunted, tossing the phone back as he stood up in defeat.

“Thank you,” Kirishima nodded with a polite bow and small smile.

Fucker.

“You wanna tell me what this is about?” he questioned, holding up the phone. “Like, I would like to think that you’re not snooping in my stuff, ‘cause I’ve got some pretty sensitive-”

“Ugh, what the fuck? No!” Bakugo sneered. “I'm not interested in your amateur work!” He had enough trauma, he really didn’t need to see that.

“Pervert! I was talking about my poetry!”

Sometimes he wondered why he was friends with this idiot.

“I’m not dumb enough to keep-”

“Stop! Just-” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before inhaling deeply. “Look, I just needed a phone number.”

Kirishima smirked, placing a fist against his hips. “So you couldn’t ask like a normal person?”

Bakugo wasn’t going to bother answering a question they both already knew the answer to.

“Who’s number?”

Silence.

“Well?! ”

His chest tightened, embarrassment rising. “Uraraka’s,” Bakugo muttered, gargling out the syllables behind clenched teeth.

Lifting the phone to meet his eyes, Kirishima easily maneuvered through applications on his phone. “Huh?”

Damn it. “Uraraka,” he said again, teeth gnashing together as he made unintelligible sounds.

Kirishima looked up from his phone, shrugging his shoulders slowly.

“Uraraka!”

“Oh…”

Bakugo’s shoulders collapsed down as he felt his face burn.

“Why?”

Now he remembered why he decided to just take his phone and get the number himself. “Do I need a reason?”

“No.”

Good.

“But-”

Goddammit.

“That just leaves me to speculate why you want her number.” Kirishima’s voice was dangerously nonchalant. “I have a lot to think about. I mean-”

This is what he got for trying to socialize.

“-you all were pretty close at the club-”

Things were much easier when he didn’t bother to interact with other people.

“-and you seemed to get all worked up about me seeing you dance with her.”

Bakugo wasn’t sure when he slowly started shifting into this somewhat social creature, but he was starting to rethink the benefits of being a hermit.

“You left pretty suddenly,” Kirishima’s brows raised, “and went back to the dorms.”

Oh.

“And Uraraka stayed out for ice cream, right?”

He knew. “How would I know?”

He plopped down on the bench, kicking his legs out in front of him with a proud smirk, “Dude, don’t insult my intelligence.”

“Fuck you and your word a day calendar!” Why was this such a big deal?

Kirishima laughed, “So you and Uraraka snuck off for a bit. It’s not a big deal. I’m just hurt that you didn’t tell me, dude.”

Guilt bubbled at the base of his stomach mixing with the anxiety fluttering around his chest. He wasn’t sure when he started feeling guilt, but he could see why people cracked under the weight of this emotion.

“Like, I talk to you about Mina-”

He didn’t ask for that. In fact, Bakugo would have preferred not to have to hear about their weird relationship.

“I figured you’d at least talk to me about your first girlfriend-”

“She’s not my girlfriend! We just got some damn ice cream!”

“Crush whatever.” Kirishima snickered, reaching to wrap his arms around him in a hug. “Awww, my little Bakubro has a crus-”

“Forget it!” Bakugo barked, stomping over to his bag. He shoved his towel, water bottle, and phone into his bag, roughly tossing it over his shoulder as his face reddened. “Just forget I said anything. I’m ou-”

“Dude!”

“No!”

“She’s in the main building,” Kirishima chuckled, shaking his head at his friend’s panic.

His face relaxed as confusion replaced anger, “Huh?”

“You want her phone number, go ask her yourself. She’s on campus.”

Bakugo blinked once, twice as he tried to process the information. The adrenaline from his anger vibrated down his spine as he felt himself relax.

“She’s back early because of work study,” he smirked, pushing himself to his feet. “You would know if you were in the class chat.”

“Tch.”

Gently patting his shoulder, Kirishima beamed, “You might wanna hurry up, because she’s done around six. I mean you could go visit her at the dorms-”

“You can’t just give me her number?” What the hell was he supposed to even say to her?

“No.” Kirishima grinned happily. “Consider this your penance.”

He deserved it.

“Especially since you stole my phone, won’t tell me why you want her number, and I’m being gracious enough not to push you.”

That was fair.

“For now.” Kirishima knew that Bakugo would talk to him when he was ready.

Or when he cracked.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Thirty more minutes.

Uraraka wasn’t going to complain. With no classes, her work study hours were longer which meant more money going into her savings account.

But, it was boring.

She’d spent the day working on orientation packets for the incoming first year students.

In the morning, Uraraka spent hours copying flyers, forms, liability forms, questionnaires, rules, and anything else U.A. felt the incoming students needed to know. She honestly didn’t remember it being this much paperwork.

This amount of paperwork was probably because of everything that happened during her first year. Her class had been kidnapped, attacked, and assaulted more times than she cared to remember during their first term.

She’d watched the bright green light roll back and forth along the glass plate of the machine for hours as she waited for her copies to finish. When Present Mic interrupted her to tell her that she’d need to recopy one of the forms because there had been a last minute change, she’d nearly released a scream that could rival Mic’s loudest wail. Luckily, she was able to set the paper up in the copier and take her lunch break.

She made her way back to her workstation after treating herself to a ridiculously large and, in her opinion, overpriced iced coffee. Uraraka decided she deserved a treat for not screaming when the copier jammed for the eighth time or at Present Mic’s interruption. Now that the papers were copied, she had to assemble packets and sort the small forest of papers around her.

“Let’s see,” she murmured, chewing on her bottom lip as she set another stack of papers aside.

Nearly five hours and another iced coffee later, she was halfway through the papers. She had a couple of days before All Might and Aizawa needed the papers but she wanted this task out of the way as soon as possible.

She pulled the pink and white notepad across the table as she examined her to-do list. With a loud sigh, she picked up her coffee and bright the straw to her lips as she read.

First year student orientation and first day packets.

Inventory combat equipment.

Finish her own application to extend her work hours for the upcoming year.

Update the student database.

Call IT.

Get more copier tone-“

“Umm-“

Uraraka’s eyes widened as she bit down on the plastic straw. “Bakugo?” she questioned, slowly lifting her head up to face him.

He took an awkward step into the room, an arm bent behind his back as he scratched the base of his neck.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, suddenly very aware of the fact that she was still wearing the hoodie he’d given her. She swallowed a gulp of room temperature coffee as she tried to will the flush from her cheeks.

“Kirishima needed some paperwork,” Bakugo mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets he tilted his head behind him.

She could clearly see the bright red tuft of hair through the large window in front her. “Oh.” That explained it. “Well it’s nice that you came with him.”

He nodded, face twisting between unreadable emotions while his eyes followed her motions.

“I was just finishing up with some paperwork,” Uraraka babbled as she sat her cup back to the table. Her fingers nervously skimmed over the pile papers as her eyes dropped down to the table. “I uh-“ His gaze made her feel heavy and self conscious. Hopefully he hadn’t noticed the coffee stain on the front of her shirt or tired bags beneath her eyes. “I thought I would be able to get these done today.” Oh all the days for her not to wash her hair, it had to be today.

Bakugo himself looked like he’d just finished working out. Even though he was standing on the other side of the table, her nose managed to catch a whiff of that heavy sweet nitroglycerin scent. She also hadn’t minded watching the twitch of his arm muscles as he-

“But I still have a bunch to sort,” she stammered as she continued to move papers around the table. “I thin-“

“You wanna hangout?”

She stilled, fingers digging into the papers she shuffled. “Huh?” she questioned softly, slowly releasing grip she had on the paper and wincing at the sight of the wrinkles. She was going to have to redo those.

“You said we should hang out,” he huffed, rolling his shoulders back casually as pink stained his cheeks. “Do you wanna hang out or don’t ya?”

“Yeah.”

“Tomorrow?”

Right now would have been wonderful too. “Okay,” she nodded as she stood up straight. Rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie, she wiped her hands against her jeans.

“Give me your number.”

“Wha-”

“So I can text you,” he grumbled, shifting his weight to one of his legs. Bakugo took a step forward and shoved his phone at her. “Just put your number in.”

Uraraka typed in her phone number before handing him back the phone. “Okay, I’ll talk to you then.”

He nodded, a slow smug smirk curled at the corner of his lips, “That’s my hoodie.” Bakugo pocketed the phone, looking down at her with wide curious eyes.

“It is,” she commented, looking down at the garment as if she had forgotten she was wearing it. “I was gonna wash it and give it back you at the beginning of year-”

“Whatever,” he shrugged, “It’s not a big deal.”

She smiled sheepishly, wrapping the hoodie around her body.

“I gotta go,” he told her, clearing his throat. Tipping his head back toward Kirishima outside of the door, Bakugo rolled his eyes at Kirishima’s obnoxious laughter while he chatted with one of their teachers.

“Alright.”

“I’ll text you later. “

“Awesome,” she beamed, watching him walk out of the door and giving a happy wave. “See you Bakugo.”

“Later.” He nodded.

Uraraka watched him walk past the large window that opened to the view of the main floor. As soon as he stepped out of sight, she crouched down to the floor cradling her cheeks. “Oh my god,” she mouthed.

It was so much easier to talk to him when she was high off of a successful end of the year and overworked from school. The alcohol had also helped.

“What the heck just happened?” she gasped quietly as she shook her head.

Bakugo had just invited her out tomorrow, presumably just the two of them.

He’d asked for her number.

He'd noticed she was wearing his hoodie and let her keep it.

And promised to text her later.

If she didn’t know better, she would think he was flirting with her but Uraraka knew better than to make crazy assumptions.

The soft vibration of her phone stopped her panic as she reached into the front pouch of the hoodie. She pulled out her phone, tapping on the screen to view the message.

90-3473-2666, 5:47PM

It’s me.

Her eyes widened as her mouth dropped open.

90-3473-2666, 5:47PM

Told you I’d text you later.

To be continued…

#kacchako fanfiction #kacchako #bakugo x uraraka #katsuki bakugou #uraraka ochako #bnha fanfiction

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