Keigo Takami ღ Hawks

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[A/N]: Holy shit, is this my 5th Hawks one-shot in a row? I'm honestly obsessed, and I need to calm down...I hope they're good, and you aren't getting bored. 

Trigger Warnings: Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Depression, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt.

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If I was just prettier...

If I looked how I should...

...Would I even be up here right now? Or would I be down there, walking with someone...being happy? Like that girl...she's so much more pleasing to the eyes. She's thinner, her smile is like the sun...compared to that, I'm nothing. The wind whistled around your (h/c) locks, taunting you with all your insecurities. I shouldn't hesitate. I shouldn't doubt this choice. I have to do it. I have to die.

"Goodbye." Standing on the ledge, you readied yourself to fall.

If only I wasn't so fat, so...unsightly....Maybe then I'd actually want to live? Oh well, this is the end for me. I can't do anything now. I just need to let this happen. I just need to fall.

Someone clapped their hands. "You're leaving already? I only just got here, dove."

Terror illuminated your veins, as your faded, (e/c) eyes flickered open. This was a restricted area - not a soul should have caught you. It was supposed to be a peaceful end, or the path to a fresh beginning. Your heart craved even the smallest drop of happiness...Weren't you allowed that? It was truly ridiculous, the amount of pain coursing through your mind. You couldn't live in such a deplorable condition forever. You were only eighteen, soon to graduate from UA, but the depression, the torturous thoughts and feelings...they shadowed you always. They glared in the mirror, barked spite-laced insults in your ears...they held complete dominion over your body. Upon instruction, you would glide the glinting knife towards your exposed flesh, cutting deeper and deeper, until the stinging snapped you back into reality. They refused to stop at mere lacerations, however; fire was also employed, forming brand-like marks all down your legs. 

These physical manifestations of your cries for help weren't well hidden.

This man, no...this hero...his piercing golden orbs were ghosting your skin, drinking in everything - all the scars, all the burns and bruises. You cursed, silently. Why hadn't you bothered to wear something with longer sleeves? And shorts, really? The autumn breeze was nipping at you, and you had already whiled away hours atop this roof. If you didn't fall, then you would certainly succumb to hypothermia. 

And soon. 

Why am I not falling? I should be dead.

Your ignorance of his words wasn't intentional, but when he realised that he wouldn't procure a response, he simply shook his head. "C'mon, you could at least fill me in on what's going on. That's just bad hospitality."

For some reason, your lips moved of their own accord. "I don't live here, though...?"

He just laughed. "Then what are you doing on the roof?"

What was I doing...? Oh yeah...I came up here to die. Why am I still alive?

"I..." The truth was lodged in your throat, and you might have choked on it, had a delicate, crimson feather not started to tickle your face.

You tried desperately not to giggle. Now wasn't the time, nor the place. 

The eternal wrath of Fūjin coiled around your skin, blowing on the naked cuts that littered it. Your eyes squeezed shut, tear-ducts becoming overwhelmed by the throbbing pain. You refused to let the dam break, so you just stood there, knuckles whitening as you gripped your arm. Why hadn't you crashed to the ground yet? A few of Hawks' feathers pushed on your back gently, ushering you towards him. He moved a little closer. You pulled on your short sleeves, but they wouldn't ever be enough to conceal the years of anguish. True joy had never been a constant in your life, but perhaps you could find it in death.

I don't want to move away from the ledge. Let me go back. I need this. I need this! We all need this!

"Are you ready to tell me what happened yet, pretty bird?" He cooed, a gloved hand caressing your cheek.

Is this what...affection feels like?

With those words, a waterfall of beauty and sorrow spilled from your eyes. "Y-You think I-I'm p-p-pretty...?"

He doesn't. He's just messing with me.

"I know that I saw a cute girl up here, and I listened to her songs, but I saw her trying to end it all, and I didn't want the world to lose someone so precious."

Your crying never ceased. "You h-heard m-my singing?"

A genuine smile played at his lips. When did he become so sentimental? 

"Yep, and I loved every second."

Was he falling in love?

...With a fractured soul?

[Word Count: 755]

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