You were 20 years-old and had been dating your former Sensei, and the man you had loved, since you graduated a year and a half ago at 18.

He had tried to deny his feelings, but he no longer could after you graduated.

So, you and Shōta have been together for that whole year and a half, married for almost a year, and it has been blissful, to say the least.

You two simply had a bond, and he understood you like nobody else seemed to. He was more kind, patient, understanding, and never judged you. He knew of your trauma and tried to be protective.

Things had been going well. You were both happy, loyal to each other, he quit his pro hero work to devote himself to you, etc.

Well, every couple has arguments... right? But not you two. No. Sure, you had disagreements that resolved quickly. Until, the shoe dropped and an argument happened.

Shōta had been dealing with a resurgence of his past trauma, and in turn, it was becoming more volatile. He wasn't @busive. Never!

But, he was beginning to speak a little more harshly to you. It hurt. You knew he was stressed, but he NEVER did this...

So, tonight, it happened: You were going to order your favorite take-out and binge your favorite show together. You said something during a part in the show where the character had blue flames.

You lit up and exclaimed, "I LOVE blue fire!" It was an innocent comment, but...Shōta bristled.

In your past, you dated a man with a blue fire quirk. You dated him for two years. But when you made this comment, Toya never crossed your mind. You simply loved fire.

"Hmph... that so?" You looked at him, a bit hurt- thinking this would be another night of him being a bit hostile. "Yeah, honey. You know I love fire..." He seemed to hiss at that. "Is that so?" There was venom in his tone, and you were getting worried.

"What are you implying, Shōta?" He scoffed. "I think you know damn well what I'm suggesting. You're thinking of that jerk... aren't you?"

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Shōta... no! You know I don't love him anymore...I just love fire. I did before he and I ever even dated."

He rolled his eyes. "Uh huh. No. You clearly still love him."

This went on until yelling ensued, and finally, you spoke the most hurtful things you could think to say to him in the heat of the moment, "I hate you! I'll never kiss you again! I'll never make love to you again!" He froze, looking stunned. It was a wakeup call that he'd gone too far.

Your eyes widened at what you'd said- and that's when he immediately left... to go get drunk. He wasn't supposed to drink because he was sober. But. He did.

Later that night, he came home, smelling of booze and accidentally woke you up. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked pathetic.

He stared at you and swallowed hard. You hesitantly cupped his cheek with sad eyes. You wanted to be angry. But instead you spoke gently, "You're drunk..."

He nodded. "Yes." You sighed. "Why?"

He looked away- eyes pained. "Because we fought. And it started to hurt so fucking bad!" He pointed to his chest firmly.

"Because I hurt you and made you say you hated me... that you'd never kiss me again... In that moment, I swore I died inside..." He choked out.

Your heart ached as you whispered, "You deserved it..." You closed your eyes as he kissed your forehead. "I need you to forgive me. I need you to love me again. I'm sorry... I'm so fucking sorry... please don't say you'll never kiss me again... Please don't take that away from me... If I never feel your lips again, I swear I'll lose my God damn mind... I'll lose everything. Please, baby... please... Just kiss me... just once. That's all I'm asking for. One kiss. I don't care if it means nothing to you. I don't care if it ruins me. Tell me what I have to do. I'll do anything. I don't care if it makes me pathetic. I already am. I'm nothing without you. Just kiss the corner of my mouth. Brush your fingers along my lips. I need you. Please... Please..." He was knelt down by your legs as you sat on the bed- your fingers in his hair.