BNHA x Reader

Uraraka Ochaco x Female!Reader (1)

(Kind of sad.)

I feel a clenching in my chest as her face squishes. Her laughter fills the air.

For a moment, it's hard to breathe.

I quickly look back down at my homework. I can't be distracted.

Finishing the next problem, I try to ignore the feeling in my stomach. These feelings were wrong. They aren't real.

There was a reason I had to stop being her friend. It hurt. It hurt a lot. But I have no choice. I can barely talk around her. I don't want anyone knowing.

I catch a glimpse of her smile.

Putting my pencil and book in my bag, I get up and leave the room in a hurry. No one can know of these feelings I have.

I rush to my next class, settling in my seat. I open my notebook to take notes. This definitely wasn't my favorite class, but maybe I can stop thinking about the pretty girl in my last hour class.

Obviously this does not actually happen.

The teacher lectures on and on, but I haven't been listening. I doodle little flowers around my drawing. It's a doodle of her face. It wasn't good, but I thought it was cute.

As the bell rings, I get up. I close my notebook quickly, in an attempt to deny myself of how I really feel. It can't be right.

I feel a tap on my shoulder. I must have had a guilty look on my face, I can feel it.

"Hey, I saw your notebook," Jiro says quietly. My heart skips a beat, the feeling of my stomach flipping making me sick.

"If you like her, you should go for it. I'm sure she's open." She smiles.

"I'm not- I don't-"

"It's alright, you know? I'm not straight either." Jiro confides. "It took me a while to accept it, but I have some help from my parents. It's alright to feel how you do."

"I..." I can't help but gape at her. "It's... It's not wrong?" My hands shake.

"No. It's not," she says proudly.

She pats my shoulder before leaving for her next class.

--- ---

I smack myself in the face with my notebook. "This sucks," I let out a groan.

Feeling a pang in my chest, I clutch it. It was all her. Uraraka Ochaco. I can't do anything without thinking about her.

I pout, looking at the stupid letter in my hands. It definitely isn't going how I want it to.

I want to apologise for pushing her away. I want her to forgive me, for not accepting who I was. I don't want to be her friend. I want to be more.

I want to hold her hand.

I'm so afraid.

What if she doesn't feel the same? My heart pounds in my chest.

I close the notebook. Throwing it aside, I lay back against the bench.

I look up at the sky.

Wishing I knew what to do.

All I want is to be with her.