"You're giving me the look."
"What look?" He asked in confusion.
"Your 'I really wanna kiss you' look."
~
Grief-stricken, aspiring hero, Costa Miriara's life flips upside down when she transfers to UA High-school after a rough first year at Shikets...
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{One Step Closer}
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Word Count; 5,407
"You have something in your hair." Costa rose her fingers to pinch the white little fleck stuck in between his strands. Bakugou's nose scrunched up as he quickly smacked her hand away. She glared at him for a second, her eyes darkening into a pretty amber color.
"Why do you- ugh. You know what," She pulled her hand back, shrugging dramatically. "Keep it- you look stupid with it anyway."
"What?!" His eyes widened slightly. Costa fought back a chuckle, making sure her irritated facade was locked into place. He vigorously shoved his fingers into his hair, shaking it out. Costa rolled her eyes, sitting back in her seat on the train. Bakugou stood in front of her, still ruffling the front spikes of his hair. "Is it gone?"
"Nope."
It was gone.
"Ugh-" He grunted, plopping down into the seat beside her. She crossed her arms over her chest, letting out a soft hum. He leaned over so that his elbows were resting against his knees. Then his mouth widened in a loud yawn. Costa snickered, bumping him with her shoulder. "Need a nappie after last night?"
"Shut up, it's your fault I'm this tired." He rubbed at his eyes. A soft purple hue lined his crimson eyes, showing off the evident lack of sleep from the night before. Costa looked the same way, with tired bloodshot eyes and heavy muscles that weighed her down into her seat. She chuckled, "Hey, you weren't opposed to it- so don't blame me."
"Yeah, whatever."
Costa and Bakugou spent their last night of the work studies program with Kamui in Bakugou's hotel room, binge-watching Costa's favorite anime of all time. Aka, Devil-man Crybaby. She enjoyed Bakugou's hilarious reactions to the explicitness and lack of modesty within the show. The way his eyes bulged out of his head during the wet-dream scene had her rolling over on the floor, clutching her stomach.
Then it kept getting worse and he would yell at Costa for making him watch such an unbecoming animation. Costa shrugged and gave him the same response. "It's art- sometimes art is supposed to make us feel uncomfortable. It's a challenge of belief."
Then he would grumble and sink back into the pillows, trying not to appear too bothered by it. Costa thought it was funny that he was seventeen and still became flustered by the mature themes. It made her think he really was as unexperienced as she thought.
