"What?" He snaps at me, "Spit it out Pandora."
He's bitter, cold. He resents me, my scarred skin and indecision. His eyes watching my body with loathing so deep poets weep in fury. Izuku has realised that he doesn't want me.
I don't want this. Him.
Have I ever been attracted to him? Or men? Is it because I don't consider myself attractive, by societal standards? Is it because I hide my body under masculine clothes to avoid being gawked at? Is that because I was tortured or simply because I have a uterus and that demands unwanted attention from creepy men?
What's with all the philosophical questions when all I want to ask is how good she was in bed? Did you enjoy her lips on yours, or did you imagine it was me?
Do I want to sleep with you?
"Why did you sleep with her?" I manage to unclench my teeth and utter the words I've been thinking all day. "Are you not.."
How to I ask him this without cringing?
"No." He says, emotionless for the first time in his dewy-eyed life. His chest rises and falls evenly. Mine fills with rage, a tidal wave of questions that demand answers. He won't be able to answer the deepest ones, but his answers can still provide insight, can't they?
Just because he is a boy, does that mean his opinion isn't valid?
"No? What do you mean by that?" I can barely hold my anger on these stupid crutches, my hands itching to wrap around his throat, "You're done? No, you're still in?"
Izuku's eyebrows furrow with concentration, as if he's deciding on his answer instead of already knowing. Is it an act, or does he still care? Did the hours of flirting across the classroom and awkward conversations mean nothing? The shared secrets, shared trauma?
"I can't do this anymore it's not-"He stops, looking at me with dead eyes, "You're not worth it."
I definitely do not want to sleep with you.
"Okay." I inhale slowly, slightly surprised with myself as I have no urge to cry. It's probably stereotypical for a girl to cry when she is rejected, but true for anyone who has a working heart. I say nothing, watching him awkwardly turn on his heel and walk away.
"Wait." He turns around quickly, too quickly. As if he expected me to beg. He would like that, a perverse power play between a man and woman.
I will not beg for a man.
"This wasn't your decision to make." I glare at him, "You don't get to give up because I'm taking my time. And you certainly do not get to determine my worth, or anyone else's, ever."
Izuku walks towards me with long, slow strides. His green eyes are narrowed to emerald slits and his face is frozen in stone. His breath is foul and unwelcome on my skin, the warmth like a garden spider scuttling across my nose and disappearing into my ears with each of his exhales.
"Stop expecting everyone to treat you like you're anything but ordinary. You're not special enough for me to wait and I'm sure they're getting sick of you toying with both of them." He hisses at me, jabbing a finger to my chest, "Pick one or lose both. You've already lost me."
Can you lose something you never wanted to begin with?
I pull away from him, repulsed. With him, myself, and what I can feel tumbling out of my mouth in a blinding, impulsive anger. The worlds are forming before my morals can step in, my lips are forming the sounds as I mentally process the hurtful words he spat at me like he'd rehearsed it in a mirror. He hates me. I hate him. Wait.WAIT.
Please don't hate me.
"Take a swan dive off the roof, Quirkless."