WARNING: Angst, death.
≈ 1,480 Words
[AU where if someone has one wish, which can make anything come true.]
This never got old.
Two dreamers, the believers, laying on the grass under a universe of stars, side-by-side.
Izuku’s curly hair would often tickle the side of your face whenever the wind would pass by, or he would position his hand to be closer to yours when he got too uncomfortable. The warmth radiating from him would be enough to keep you warm, even on the coldest of nights.
“I wish we could be like this all the time.” He would sigh, his rosy cheeks and glittering eyes pointed towards the sky. His hands would grip onto the grass, as if it were the only thing anchoring him onto this ground, this gravity.