Chapter Twelve: Pitter Patter Memories

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Lost↲
Frank Ocean

"Now you're lost, lost in the heat of it all . . ."


Izuku groaned and grimaced as he turned in his sleep. His breathing flashed around in uneven spouts as distorted images fluttered around in his mind—fogging his senses. Another inexplicable dream, or nightmare at this point, plaguing him until he couldn't breathe; fracturing his veiled thoughts like knives; inevitably leaving him with misguided pieces of information he knew nothing about. But the real question was why?         

They had always been there, however, more so when he had met Katsuki. Simple daydreams he had no control over had turned to dreams which turned to frustrating nights awake. And as the days were being hauled by unforgiving forces his dreams became more vivid, trance-like, and lucid. 

Like memories. Memories he was sure he had but never recalled living and Izuku could not help but wonder what they all meant. For some were good, an assortment of cherished colors and love-veiled laughs . . . However, some were bad. Like now.

His skin screamed as rough palms grazed them and his head spun as they pushed against the wood. It wasn't real, he knew that, but maybe that was the worst part—he knew they weren't real yet there was nothing he could do from falling. He tumbled . . . cracked . . . fell . . . gone.

Izuku gasped as a warm hand lifted him from his slumber, cold air nipping the base of his throat and cooling the liquid pearls pooling at his forehead. Emerald eyes searched desperately in the dissipating darkness of the room, landing on a familiar pair of scarlet eyes big with worry beneath the moonlight. Katsuki.

"I heard you from down the hall . . . you were screaming . . ." he whispered, biting his lip as he threw caution to the wind—his finger glided through the younger's locks soothingly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Izuku breathed out pressing the flat of his hand against his thumping heart. "It was just a—just a bad dream." he attempted to calm his erratic breathing much to no prevail.

However, Katsuki remained unconvinced as he pulled his legs under him, slightly rocking the springs as he did so. He recalled a time years ago, the last time he had caught Izuku after another nightmare, the boy had appeared dazed then just as he is now while he rocked back and forth. Usually, the elder would accompany him until he fell back asleep—for they had developed a system of simple actions the blond could always do in order to get Izuku to sleep.

But Izuku didn't know that now.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," the younger's head felling into his hands. "I'll be fine, you can go back to sleep now."

"But can you go back to sleep?" Katsuki countered, his features pulling downwards. 

Izuku cocked an eyebrow as he measured the blond's face. "What do you care?"

I care because I love you. I care because I never stopped loving you.

"I know what it's like to get really bad nightmares," Katsuki hummed, his fingers deftly curling into the loose strands of the duvet. "Like you're trapped and confused, you know it's fake but that doesn't stop you from—"

"—Getting scared . . . feeling lost," Izuku finished with a sigh.

The man was right and Izuku knew it. His dreams . . . nightmares . . . unexplainable memories were like raindrops being propelled onto a window. A new came every second and replaced the other, similar to the last but with its own intricate detail. In short, they hardly made any sense yet still managed to frighten him. But if he were being truly and unmistakably honest, with not only himself but with this man before him, the worst part of them all was the loneliness he felt during and afterward. It truly was like being trapped. He was paralyzed in his dream-locked haze and awakened to an empty bed longing to be cradled as he attempted to quiet his fearful and flummoxed mind.

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