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Does Himiko Toga know how to love?
Dead eyes, with lips full of life and light locks to curl around one's fingers.
You always struck me as strange. Lost, maybe. Alone.
No parents, no family. Barely any friends.
No one to teach you how to love.
Himiko Toga, can you love someone without hurting them?
Laughter like stars; she licks teeth coated with blood. Cuts herself with knives, to taste what it feels like to be alive.
God, no.
But I can sure as hell try.
"You're a strange little thing, aren't you?" He murmurs, breath hot and voice raspy. Forces his lips to move, while his body rots and his skin sags with the weight of his father's disapproval.
He twirls a strand of her hair around his finger, feeling the soft texture. Soft. His skin is always rough, always calloused, always burned. But Himiko Toga?
She's just a normal girl; with a very sick mind. A sick, disgusting mind he'd love to sink his teeth into.
"Tell me, little girl," he sneers, craning his neck down to look at her as she sits sprawled across his lap, toying with a blade, enamored with her own reflection in the weapon, "do you know how to love people?"
Even a rotting heart can still beat. It just takes an extra little push.
He likes playing with things, and Himiko Toga is an enigma. He's curious, naturally, since she's so obsessed with love to the point of nauseating obsession. He doesn't think she knows what that word even means, and yet - he wants to know what makes her tick.
Suddenly, her attention is on him. She meets his gaze with an equally curious expression.
Dry lips, smoke fresh on his teeth, as if he isn't already burning himself alive. Cheap liquor sits on his breath. Flames engulf his soul, and he finds some sick pleasure in being eaten alive by his own quirk.
Hades was kind enough to love me, but what about father? Persephone grows flowers out of her bones, but my mother's love only blooms for bellflowers. She decomposes day and night in a hospital bed, and I swallow my skin to feel her warmth.
"What kind of question is that? Of course I do."
She says it like it's obvious. Like it's the most idiotic question she's ever heard.
He traces her jawline with his thumb, as if contemplating something. Face dull, eyes empty -
He rests his head against a poor excuse for a couch, with glazed eyes.
To his surprise, he feels cold, lifeless fingers rest upon his charred skin. Lips parted slightly, the gleam in his eyes slightly dangerous. Bordering on disastrous, a man who wishes to destroy both himself and the world. He wants to laugh.
His throat is too dry, and the only thing that comes out is a sharp wheeze.
"You love people in your own messed up little way, I know that much," he pauses, as if to take in the way her fingers feel as she grazes his stitches. The way she traces them and the way she looks at him - makes him weak.
"but do you know how? To love people without hurting them?"
It's nauseating to be so close to her. Such an intense feeling makes him sick. Makes his head spin - makes him feel drunk.
"... What do you mean?" She asks, as if she hasn't a clue what he's talking about.
She's never been shown how to love.
"Let me show you."
For a moment, he leans down and engulfs his teeth with hers. Cigarettes meet blood.
It only lasts a couple seconds, before he begins to taste the blood on his tongue. The metallic taste lingers on his teeth, and he licks over them. He came to the realization halfway through, that she bites. Even with his dulled senses, he can still feel it.
"Mmh- ouch, doll. That hurt." He murmurs, eyes flicking over her neck, the blue of her veins. "That wasn't very nice."
He's never tasted anything sweeter than bloodlust.
There is death in your eyes and longing stuck in your throat. You croak lovesick moans and twist fingers into hair.
I would crucify myself for you and your sick little mind, and your twisted vision of love.
It's the only version of love I'm interested in.
Himiko Toga stares at the remnants of her so-called childhood. Trees still whisper her mother's cries, and raindrops kiss her skin like mother's tears.
"I never thought a psycho like you could have actual feelings."
Cruel words, but he's a cruel man.
"I was just curious what happened to my old house." She pouts, as she begins walking again through the dark.
Anything Touya loves ends up burnt. His skin is ash and sulfur pours out of his eyes, like a filthy, disgusting, mangled excuse of a human being.
Himiko Toga is no exception.
He cared. He cared enough to destroy the agony living in her mind, while his fingertips bruise her skin like burns.
"You're very kind, though."
What a silly, odd girl. A murderer, and yet kind.
"I'm only kind when it causes Endeavor more suffering."
Touya Todoroki was never able to love past his father. He is hell incarnate, and yet she enjoys the warmth.
Himiko Toga, can you love people without hurting them?
No, god, no.
But maybe he likes to be a bit bruised.
It's more fun that way.