Click the green flag!! When it's done and you want to hear it again then click it again lol (i'm too lazy to figure out how to keep it in time when it starts all over again) So I made a Dabi fanfic and I'm adding this song why, well because I'm bored heheheehhe also there is a bit of no no words so if you don't wanna hear those words then read the fanfic Song: Cross My Heart Reimagined - Fabvl
The silence in the room was heavier than the smoke. It was a suffocating, thick kind of quiet that pressed against his lungs until every breath felt like swallowing glass. He sat on the floor, his back against a wall that had long ago lost its paint to dampness and rot. He looked at his arms. The skin was a map of failures, a patchwork of violet and gray held together by cold, unfeeling metal. He didn't think of himself as a person anymore; he was a collection of parts that didn't fit, a fire that had been left to burn in an empty house until the walls turned to soot. He remembered a time when he thought his blood was a gift. He had been told he was special, a masterpiece in the making, only to be discarded like a rough draft when the ink started to smear. The betrayal wasn't a single moment; it was a slow, agonizing realization that he was only loved for what he could become, never for who he was. He reached out, his fingers trembling as they hovered over a small, flickering flame he’d sparked in his palm. It was a beautiful, terrifying blue the color of a ghost. "I gave you everything," he whispered, though there was no one there to hear him. "I burned myself alive just so you'd look at me." But the eyes he had spent his youth craving had always been looking elsewhere, focused on a future that didn't include a boy who was "too much" and "not enough" all at once. Every ounce of warmth he had ever possessed had been poured into a void that never filled up. He had spent his light trying to guide people who were already standing in the sun. Now, there was a permanent winter in his marrow. The fire was the only thing that felt real, even as it turned his nerves to ash. He leaned his head back against the cold stone, closing his eyes. He didn't want to fight, and he didn't want to win. He just wanted the screaming in his mind to match the silence in the room. He was a candle that had been forced to burn from both ends, and now, in the dark, he was finally realizing there was nothing left but the bitter smell of the wick.
