katsuki bakugo ﾉﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

The clock read 3:17 a.m., and the room was shrouded in a thick silence, broken only by the whir of the fan and the smoke drifting in the air. The bed was unmade, clothes strewn across the floor… another night of shouting, arguments, and fleeting reconciliations.

You and Katsuki had been together for three years, since you were 16, but at 19, nothing was the same. You were both in college, living together in a small apartment on the outskirts of the city, but the love that kept you together was also slowly consuming you. The relationship had become toxic, a battlefield where jealousy was the weapon and affection, the first-aid kit. You were tired of fighting… but never of him. And he, as much as he wanted to walk away, didn't know how to let go either. That night, the atmosphere was different. There was an invisible edge in the air, something in your words that had hurt him more than usual. Katsuki stared at you from the edge of the bed, his hair disheveled, his knuckles marked from how tightly he had clenched his fists. —“Why the hell do you always do this, huh? Do you find it fun?” he growled, his voice cracking, his eyes red. You didn't answer. You paced the room barefoot, searching for your t-shirt. The words were stuck in your throat, but you didn't want to make the first move. —“You have no idea what you’re doing to me, you know? You’re killing me little by little, damn it.” —He slammed his palm against the wall, creating a dull echo. It wasn't the first time he'd said something like that… but this time it sounded different. There was a crack in his voice, as if something inside him was about to break. Katsuki ran a hand over his face, breathing heavily. His anxiety was consuming him, and you knew it. You had seen how, little by little, the dark circles under his eyes deepened, how the cigarette in his hand became more and more frequent, how the light in his eyes dimmed from time to time. This consumed them both, but they couldn't separate.