A Sour Taste And A Cruel Heart

a sour taste and a cruel heart

m.list

a\n so much angst. but imagine any of your favs when reading!

You were here, stuck at this shitty fucking party, supposed to dance the pain away—or so Ochako had said. And yet, there he was, standing six feet away from you, bathed in the flickering glow of those cheap strobe lights Denki had scored last minute from some run-down party store. Blue and purple hues wrapped around him, casting him as something ethereal. Almost angelic.

But he’s anything but that.

You know it from the festering, rotting feeling that creeps in every time someone so much as mentions his name. That man is no saint. He had ripped your heart out with bare hands and sharp teeth, peeled the skin from your bones, and left your flesh to rot.

You still remember how he ended it—how he left you with nothing but a cardboard box stuffed with the remnants of your last three years together. Left it by your door like garbage, not even man enough to look you in the eyes when he tossed you away.

That cruel smirk, the one that used to send you to your knees, now only sends you clutching at your chest, struggling to breathe. And now, here he is. Lost in the crowd but staring at you.

You had sworn to him that you two could make it, that you'd be the exception. But he never listened—when did he ever? Instead, he grew quieter. Stopped holding your gaze. Dropped your hand in crowds. For fuck’s sake, he stopped kissing you. Your lips still feel bare.

And a few weeks later, it was over.

You remember his face—so vacant, so cold, like a stranger trying to morph himself into the man you once loved. You had wished, prayed, that it was some sick prank. That it was all just a nightmare, and you'd wake up in his arms, the morning sun warming his skin, his body safe and solid beside you.

But instead, you woke up alone. Cold. With a raging headache and eyes too swollen to open properly.

That same morning, you were paired with him for a training session. He had loomed over you the way he always used to—except this time, he wasn’t yours. Just an opponent. A stranger planning to land a hit. You dodged, gasping for breath, and then—

You broke.

Sobbing, choking on your own breath, tears streaming down your face as you clung to his chest—hitting him, holding him, like you wanted to tear him apart but still needed him to put you back together. And in front of everyone, he just… held you.

He never spoke to you again after that.

And now, here he is, at this shitty graduation party, celebrating the same thing he threw you away for. And here you are, swirling the sour liquid in your cup, knocking it back too fast, desperate for something—anything—to dull the ache clawing at your ribs.

And here he is, still staring.

His eyes narrow slightly, like he sees right through you. Like he knows you still can’t stand the taste of alcohol. But he won’t be there to hold your hair back when you’re puking your guts out.

Not anymore.

can be any of your favs from mha <3