✓LIFE SENTENCE|| TodoDeku Au

☆Twenty-One☆

~ Third Person P.O.V ~

"To kiss thy tender lips would be a blessing, capturing them as though they a' picture. Rosie plum dancing across thy mounds of skin, painting my lips in its hue . . ." 
—BisexualCricket, Poetry Journal

So many things were occurring at once, and Shoto could only do so little to stop them.    

His mind raced, a myriad of revelations, notions, possible outcomes—whether they be good or bad— had succumbed to his brain. As if a sucker punch to the gut he had come to the realization that this . . . friendship he had obtained with Izuku was, in fact, a do-over. For he had been weak the first time around, as sad as it is, Shoto knew there was nothing he could have done to preclude Shinsou from taking his own life—to keep that vile, lowlife, egotistical, bastard from doing what he had done to Izuku.

But he could save Izuku now from this vile man. 

To be quite frank, Shoto had never experienced the emotion surging through him at the moment. At first, it was rather overwhelming to undergo. But as time passed on he grew accustomed to him, he grew dependent on it. It was the mere desire to protect Izuku at all costs, even if it meant relinquishing his own life in the process.

If it were possible for him to die.

The desire he had obtained, the feeling, the emotion, the sensation had shrouded itself around Shoto. It shrouded him in the thickest of blankets, overtaking his thoughts, senses, everything. He could not longer get enough of it, for Shoto had a purpose in life now—he had something to live for, to fight for. But as the over-thickened blanket finally rested its full weight onto the duel-haired male, reality began to kick in.

He was no longer functioning off the high of his adrenaline, his desires, nor his newly-discovered purpose in life. No, this was something else entirely . . . Shoto was thriving off of fear, however, that fear was not for himself. His heart pounded like thunder on a bitter, relentless, rain-filled night; fear had veiled itself around the sturdy organ, squeezing it tightly leaving no room to breathe. No room for mistakes, no room for failure. That was not an option at the moment, every decision he made, every breath he took, depended on Izuku making it out of whatever the hell they had entangled themselves in.

Losing Izuku to the darkness that was enclosing around them, losing Izuku period was something he couldn't afford.

And damn it, he didn't understand why. Why did the mere thought of losing the boy scare him so dearly? Why did it feel as though he could not breathe when Izuku wasn't around, or when he was away from him? Why did he suddenly become so dependent on the boy—dependent on him surviving and dependent on his happiness? 

. . . Why did he could he see himself falling in love with him?

The logical side of Shoto knew it was wrong, that he had a soulmate, and that person wasn't Izuku . . . But would that be such a bad thing? 

Tightening his hold on Izuku's waist, the two make their way out of the coffee shop. Izuku's limp yet shaking frame wrapped around Shoto as he sprinted out of the shop, his head buried deep in the warmth radiating off of the elder's neck. His mind was at an all-time blank at the moment.

For Izuku, everything had already registered. Yet he was . . . exhausted, both mentally and physically—he could not bring himself to care about anything. It was almost as if he had given up, had chosen to accept defeat. All that mattered was Shoto, that he was here with the man, safe in his arms, safe with him in general. Of course, there were things he knew that were unavoidable—like seeing Monoma again or talking about how Shoto knows the blond. But those specific topics were not something he could spare a moment to thoroughly consider.