𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙐𝙨

(33) Serendipity

Kinda a slow chapter but holds a lot of meaning behind it! Enjoy, love you all.

Please take care of yourselves 🤍
—-

Love.

The rise and downfall of everyone's life at some point.

It goes back to many years even with greek mythology. Eros, the God of love or to be more precise, the god of passion and physical desire. To the Greek world, Eros was their cupid.

This idea of love has been one to be around for what seems like forever. Though it does come in different shapes and forms. Love is one of things ideas that grows and is shaped to its subject. Love for a city, item, show, animal, or person. All are fundamentally different.

It's strong. It blinds people from seeing the real truth, being able to see the reality of things. People go on for ages believing this idea of love is all you need and that love saves when life seems too dark to continue.

But I don't.

In a home where love was not an emotion felt, it's hard for me to believe that it is such a beautiful sight to rest my eyes on. It broke my home to its frame, the shambles of it. The minute one of us believed in it, the damage was done.

Mom believed in love. Believed that even if my dad was dark, he'd change. She spent years with him even after he'd been kicked out to be next to his side. She stood by him even when his actions grew uncontrollable, taking his anger too far. They had kids, started a family of their own may be in hopes of a change.

Why?

Because she loved him.

Because she hoped that if she continued to love him that there would be a change in his behavior. Maybe it was some kind of Stockholm syndrome? Maybe it was just a game she'd play where she'd try to change him? Either way, it didn't work.

She broke herself. Allowed herself to be ripped apart piece by piece until the only thing left was her broken heart. And when a heart is broken, there's only so much a person could take.

If I'm being honest, I don't know what love is supposed to feel like? Proper love I mean, the real stuff.

When thinking about it, I erased my own memory. I did it for Bakugou in some attempts to save him. That had to be some act of care for him, maybe a bit of love.

I'd never do that now though.

Views change, people change. When you are on this repeating conveyer belt of losing the people you think you love, you start to give up.

Or maybe that's only in my life. Because my life is not the more traditional of ones.

But the thing about this topic, love, was that I had been willing to let it back into my life. He made me feel like maybe I was capable of it.

—-

The door clicked as it shut.

My hands stood on the knob a bit longer for no particular reason. Maybe because I know it would be weird when I turned around. But there was no escaping this.

"Hey." I huffed, my heels spinning across the wood floor. Bakugou sat on my bed, remote in his hand as he watched my TV. It hadn't looked like he'd been sitting there long.

"Hey." His eyes stood on the tv almost channeling me out.

"Did you hear any of that?" Of course, he did. It was just the matter of whether he was going to lie or not.

"Not gonna lie to you, y/n." Here's me forgetting her could read my mind. "Honestly, I didn't hear much. Sen and I were playing some games and talking."