in another life, i would make you stay.
so i don’t have to say you were the one that got away.
summer after highschool when we first met
he’d remembered it so vividly, seeing you across the street from him, clad in your hero outfit as you helped an elderly citizen cross the street, the boy sticking up his nose as he turned to his friend.
“when i’m a pro, you’d never see me doing worthless shit like that.” he snickered.
you could’ve heard him from a mile away, his voice piercing through your ears as you quickly turned up behind him, ready to stand your ground.
“hey-!” you tapped his shoulder.
“l/n, let’s move.” best jeanist appeared behind you as you grumbled, nonetheless going to his side.
we’d make out in your mustang to radiohead
you’d sat in his car with him, the boy agreeing to give you a ride home after your internship, you didn’t even know how it happened.
how the stupid idiot who called you out in the street ended up becoming one of your close friends, maybe it was due to the fact that you’d both gone to the same agency to do your internships.
or maybe it was because deep down, you knew he wasn’t a bad person at all. he just needed some time to warm up to you.
he eyed you, nearly staring daggers into your body the way he scanned your face up and down, taking it all in as he started the car.
“you good? why do you keep looking at me like that? just drive.”
his movement was sudden as he crashed his lips on yours, talk show host by radiohead playing in the background softly as he leaned in further, almost as if you’d pull away from him.
and on my 18th birthday, we got matching tattoos
you looked over at the man in the chair opposite you, the needle prickling his skin as your own tattoo artist returned, setting up her instruments beside you as you shivered.
“um, actually wait-.” the nervousness in your voice seeping through.
“you’re doing this shit, y/n. this was your idea. do nottt throw me under the bus now.”
you sighed, leaning back into the chair as you winced.
the mini explosion you’d gotten tattooed on your upper shoulder matched perfectly with his own tattoo.
used to steal your parents liquor, and climb to the roof
talk about our future, like we had a clue
your head collided with his on the shared blanket, an small “ow” coming from the boy before you adjusted yourself, looking up at the stars as you lie together in perfect-, no, comfortable silence.
“you ever wonder if we’ll still be with each other in the future?” you mumbled quietly, but he had heard it.
“don’t need to wonder. i know i want to be with you for the rest of my life, idiot. couldn’t picture it with anyone else.”
“oh yeah? what type of house would we have? how many kids? where would we even live?” you rambled on, the man staying silent for a bit.
“i want a traditional style for our home, maybe one with a bay window cause i know you like to read those stupid books. and two kids would be perfect. anything else would just be trying to overcompensate. i’ve always wanted to live in okinawa.”
you looked over at him, he wasn’t looking at the stars anymore, but looking directly at you, a small smile on his face.
never planned that one day, i’d be losing you.
he didn’t know what he was doing here, why he even got an invite was beyond him.
but here he sat, in the second row at the aisle, the white petals at his feet taunting him from what could’ve been as he gets lost in thought, the sound of violins brought him back to reality, while simultaneously feeling like he just got punched in the stomach.
you walked down the trail of white rose petals, the man at the end of the aisle smiling back at you as you slowly walked down, looking at the crowd.
seeing katsuki had overjoyed you, but it sickened him.
he watched as you passed by, the off the shoulder dress showcasing your tattoo, which you have covered up with a small heart, the man scoffing as he put his head down, leaving as soon as he could without making a scene.
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