MY SHAAAYYYLLAAAAAS

MY SHAYLAAAASSSSS

Also, yo, WTF. Why does no one tell you how hard it is to paint paint? 🤨🤨🤨 It makes no sense but okay. Kinda hate the paint, that’s why I have it without.

Goddamn it, Amai. Always playing with paint. Katsuki don't like messes! GRRR :triumph:

The vile pledge rang on deaf ears as they ate him alive with their greedy excitement. ‘All Might saved you, right?’ ‘You are so lucky!’ ‘You could’ve died!” The scented cocktail of perfumes, shampoos, and natural musk had the dawn of faces spinning into colors. Katsuki ripped open his fist. Flames popped on his finger, and he slammed his palm into the nearest girl’s uniform. What was left was a charred hole in an eloquent piece of clothing.        

“Hey! Come on, let him go.” One voice, slightly lighter than the rest, rang over the tangled choir. With a primal jolt in his gut, his head jumped around the circle of faces. Short, tall, thin, fat. All of them were pathetic in their own ways; none of them was him. It wasn't until the line of helpless creatures was split open that he found the owner of that voice. Pink was the first thing he saw. Then brown, then green, and eventually all of those connected lines and colors circled his taste buds. Eventually, he found the face of a girl. Her eyelashes were shaped like lightning. Erratic. “Let the man breathe, for Christ’s sake.”

The authoritative confidence within her voice had everyone stalling. If not for the blazer uniform holding her posture together, Katsuki would've assumed she was a teacher. The fire in his palms died. His lips pressed firmly. In a crowd full of upperclassmen, they all slouched away with their tails between their legs. Finally, they were gone. The sun hit his eyes again, forcing them away from whatever idiot assumed he needed saving. Then, his eyes poured back into shadow. It was such a sharp change that he pried his eyes open again. The girl—savior complex and all held one of her books above his head. Like a canopy. Or a shelter.

Briefly, his eyes moved upwards. The cover of the book was a familiar one. It struck the strings of his throat, killing whatever insult he prepared to spill out. The Brightness of You. A cheesy choice in literature, Katsuki knew. It wasn’t his taste; cliche.

“Are you alright?” Her voice drew his eyes away from the blue, romantic, and green cover and back to her. The freckles on her face burned red with the sun. Her gaze was green and cold like the ocean. Yet, what caught his eye was the pink strands tangled in a sea of brown. He stood there for a moment, dumbfounded and unimpressed by the sight of her. While her voice, like a bell, was clear and strong, there was nothing confident about her. She struggled to hold his gaze. Her hand fidgeted with the ruffles of her skirt.

A scoff, sharp and harsh, jumped from his lips. He smacked the book away. “Of course,” and then he bounded to class.

Also, MY SHAYLAAAASSSS.