Anonymous

10-19-22

The light of the morning sun streamed into the room with enough strength to blind even the most hardened of fighters, but it couldn't harm those who were already awake. The rays were soft, barely penetrating the curtains that shielded them from the day outside. There was no reason for anyone to rise just yet. No one but his child would be awake at this hour. And even she wasn't likely to be up.

As though she had heard his thought she slowly blinked her eyes open, her gaze landing on the figure sleeping beside her. She smiled softly as she watched him snuggle deeper into the mattress. A peaceful expression spread over his features as if the mere act of waking up from a deep slumber brought peace into his heart and mind. The smile lingered on her face until a small chuckle caught her attention and pulled her back into reality.

"Honey," He spoke softly, not wanting to wake his daughter, "I'm so glad you're still here with me." He reached forward and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before kissing her softly on the forehead.

The young woman's smile widened as she reached across him and turned the alarm clock off. Her movements seemed clumsy, almost lazy, like she was tired or unsure of what she was doing or why she felt as if she shouldn't be. Yet, she didn' hesitate, instead choosing to do something she knew she could always count on. After everything he'd put her through, after all he'd done, he should know better than to doubt her now. Even as she struggled to find words she could form, her hands quickly found the hem of his shirt and began working their way down it, taking her time with each button. By the time she made it to the bottom he was fully naked beneath his long sleeved tshirt. A gasp escaped her lips when she looked upon him, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath.

Her fingers worked feverishly to take every inch of skin she could reach as he watched her with loving eyes. When she got to the waistband of his shorts she hesitated again. For months she'd tried to think of some kind of excuse for why she wanted to keep these clothes for herself; why they belonged to him rather than her father. But nothing came. Every lie she told herself ended in disappointment. She couldn't imagine going through another year without having his arms wrapped tightly around her body while he kissed her sweetly on the mouth. In fact, that very moment was exactly what she wanted. So, despite knowing full well what she was about to try to accomplish, she took a deep breath before she finally pulled down his shorts.

It didn' feel right. It wouldn't have felt right anyway given everything they went through together. What she did however, was more than what any man would ask of anyone. As her eyes traveled over his body, searching for anything resembling an injury or bruise, her heart swelled within her chest, leaving an ache that only increased when she spotted a scar that stretched from his hip bone to mid thigh. Her fingers grazed gently over the smooth skin, hoping against hope that there would be no pain where her touch touched. Instead, the skin tightened as she ran her fingers along the scar. A pained whimper tore itself from her throat, leaving her shaken and ashamed of herself for making such a sound. However, she couldn't make herself stop, nor could she bring herself to pull away. If she did then the dream wouldn't come true, or so she kept telling herself. So, she continued to caress her boyfriend's skin with the gentleness of a butterfly.

Even as he shifted uncomfortably underneath her touch, she refused to leave him. With his body being covered by his thin white sheet she couldn't see anything more than his pale skin, but she knew better than to look. Not unless he asked, at least. That was the promise he always made her: no matter the price, or situation, he swore he'd make her happy. Though he never promised that it could ever be pleasant for her, she believed that was because he didn't want her to get hurt, or that he knew it would break his own heart if she saw how broken she'd left him. And she had. More times than she cared to admit. Despite the circumstances under which their relationship began she still cared for him more deeply than she cared for anyone else in the world. So when he said 'no' the first time, her heart broke, and she had to suffer.

So, when he placed his warm hand over hers, the action brought relief, but she still couldn't stop. It was a reflex, something ingrained into her subconscious mind to touch his scars whenever possible. She would lay down and hold him close for hours on end, trying to absorb his presence the best she could; as much as she could possibly manage. Then she'd let him go for the night, but always returned to his side before he closed his eyes for the last time. If she woke before sunrise, she'd curl onto his chest and sleep for a few hours, listening to the steady beat of his heart. She loved the sound of his heartbeat. It gave her comfort. It made her feel safe. Whenever he was asleep she could pretend he was real, that he was alive. And she needed that comfort right now, she realized.

She hadn't noticed she'd moved closer to him until his arm slipped protectively around her shoulders. Her head rested above his heart, his breathing the only thing that could be heard. His other hand held hers firmly in place, holding her tight to his body. His grip was strong, reassuring, protective...as though he truly believed that whatever happened they'd somehow fix it. She didn't know what to say. Nothing that wasn't too personal. Not yet, at least. So, she stayed quiet. Letting the warmth of his body seep through her skin, she listened to the gentle sound of his heartbeat. Each pulse sent a jolt of electricity through her body, igniting all those feelings she'd been suppressing for months now. They flared to life, consuming her from within and sending ripples of sensation all through her body.

For nearly three hours she remained in his arms, listening to the sound of his heart, feeling the soft brush of his hair against her cheek as he breathed, watching over her as the hours ticked by. Eventually, though, her eyes slid shut, exhaustion overtaking her consciousness. Her mind slipped out of consciousness just as he drifted off to sleep as well.

When she next opened her eyes she was alone in the bed. She groaned as the memory of her dream rushed back to her. The memory made her stomach turn and her throat tighten, as though it wanted to tell her something terrible. It reminded her that they weren't meant to be, that he would soon be gone, as he'd promised he would be the first time she'd seen him since she'd awoken. But he wasn't gone yet. The thought that she'd see him again someday filled her with hope.

It wasn't until the clock struck twelve that the reality of the situation set in once again. Her heart sunk slightly in her chest, and she sighed wearily. Of course, of course he'd stay. He was too good for her, too pure for someone like her. How could he possibly want to leave? The thought sent a painful throb throughout her chest, and she squeezed her eyes shut to block out the memories that followed. But all her efforts proved useless. Tears began to stream down her cheeks, stinging her eyes and burning hot tracks through her makeup, and she felt like screaming. It felt good to scream. To cry. Because that was what she really wanted to do.

With each tear she shed, she felt as though something inside her snapped. Like she became the person she was supposed to be all those years ago, and she lost the ability to recognize who she used to be anymore. She couldn't remember the names of all the people she'd hurt, all the things she had done wrong. All she knew was that she didn't deserve this happiness and she hated it. She hated the feeling of warmth radiating from somewhere close by as she curled into a ball under the covers. She hated the smell of coffee wafting through the air as she blindly grabbed the cup from the table, bringing it up to her nose and sniffing at the steam before taking a sip. Most of all, she hated the fact that she was the reason why it was gone.

As she drank her coffee and stared at the wall she remembered that there was a lot more to love and appreciate about the boy laying beside her. A part of him she loved, a part she treasured beyond measure. One part of him she loved so completely that she could barely breathe with how badly she missed it. Another part of him she'd spent her entire childhood admiring. She loved every single part of him, and it was all because of him. It was all because of the man who gave her a second chance at life, and a future. Without him she would've died. And even though she would have died a miserable, sad, lonely death, she would've died knowing he'd lived a life that he deserved to live.

And yet here she was, stuck in this room with him, unable to escape. Unable to forget. Unable to live.

The sound of her cell phone vibrating in her pocket drew her attention. The noise startled her out of her thoughts, and she reached out blindly to find her phone among the blankets scattered across the floor. Once her fingertips found it she pressed the button to answer before putting it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Where are you? Are you ready to go?"

A wave of anxiety washed over her the moment she heard her mother's voice on the other end of the line. No matter how many times she spoke to her mother she was always afraid she'd hear her father's voice instead. The idea that he might be able to hear them through the phone terrified her. After hearing him shout her name so desperately the day she was kidnapped she had convinced herself that he would never forgive her if she ever allowed him to speak with her. Still she could hardly believe that he was calling. Had her mother changed her mind? Was he coming after them? Was he planning to take them back home? Or worse: to kill them? She shuddered at the thought, wrapping her arms tightly around herself in an effort to ward off the chill running through her blood. There was something about the way her mother's voice trembled that caused her skin to crawl. She couldn't decide whether it was fear or anger. Whatever it was it unnerved her so badly that she found herself clutching the edge of the mattress tightly.

"I'm sorry, I can't talk right now," she murmured, hoping the woman on the other end wouldn't ask her any questions about where she was or who she was talking to. She didn't care what she said as long as it got her off the phone. "Just please tell my mother that I'll call her later. Bye."

She hung up without waiting to hear the response, dropping the cell phone on the pillow beside her. She buried her face in her hands, covering her ears to try and block out her mother's voice. The last thing she needed was to think about the fact that they were on their way back home. The image of her parents' bodies strewn across the street came to mind again, and it shook her even more than everything else. As though sensing her distress, Katsuki wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She melted into his embrace. For a brief second all she wanted was to return to that moment in time when everything was simple.

But that illusion quickly shattered when she remembered the events that had transpired during the past month. Suddenly she didn't have the same joyous feeling anymore that she'd had when they were together. She didn't have the same excitement and anticipation anymore, not when it was clear he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. She hated how her whole life seemed to be a lie. She hated how it was hard to trust him; how he was almost constantly lying to her. Even if he was telling her the truth, she'd always feel like he was hiding something important from her, which made the whole situation far more frustrating and confusing than anything else had ever been before. She didn't understand why he did that to her. Why did he deceive her? Did he genuinely believe that he loved her enough to do such a thing? Would he still be so kind to her if he knew how much pain she was in? And most importantly, why did he keep doing it?

"What happened?" He asked softly, gently tracing circles on her back and causing a shiver of pleasure to travel down her spine. She leaned further into him, resting her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes. She felt the familiar warmth of his breath as he exhaled gently against her neck. It sent a tingle through her, one she immediately wanted to experience again. She wanted to feel his lips against her skin again, feel his tongue against her skin, feel his fingers trailing along her jawline. That's why she turned to face him, leaning forward on her knees to press her forehead against his. His warm eyes fluttered open lazily, gazing at her with surprise and confusion written clearly across his face. It made her smile. He looked beautiful when he was surprised. "You're awake?"

Her smile grew wider as she nodded her head, placing her hand lightly upon his cheek. "Yes I am," she whispered softly. Her thumb stroked his cheekbone and she gazed at him, a slight blush rising up onto her cheeks. She smiled when she realized that her hand must have traveled upwards a little to rest against the side of his face, because she could feel it beneath her palm. It was a nice feeling; having her hand on his cheek. It was something she hadn't experienced in years. Before everything happened he used to touch her all the time, but ever since then he'd only ever touched her once. And although that time had been nothing less than magical, she knew now that it had come at the cost of her heart.

"I missed you," she blurted out suddenly, her voice hushed. She bit her bottom lip anxiously as she waited for him to respond.

He blinked slowly before his eyes darkened slightly. "I missed you too," he replied simply, reaching up to place his hand against hers, intertwining their fingers together. "Can we… Can we talk about what happened?"

She sighed deeply and moved backwards, resting her back against the mattress once more. She glanced up at him through her eyelashes. "Talk about what?" she asked quietly.

He shrugged lightly, averting his gaze to stare vacantly at the wall behind her. "Whatever you want. I don't know. Do you hate me?"

It was the first time he'd brought it up in weeks, and although she had expected him to bring it up eventually she hadn't quite figured out how to respond. In truth, she didn't hate him. Not at all. At least not anymore. Now all she wanted was to forget. She wanted to pretend that yesterday had never happened, that it never happened at all. If she tried hard enough she could convince herself that she'd imagined everything. She closed her eyes briefly. "No," she admitted honestly. "I don't hate you. Actually, I wish I could."

There was no reply. She opened her eyes to see him staring at her intently, his brow furrowed slightly. She raised an eyebrow questioningly at him, wondering what he was thinking, why he looked so pensive. He hesitated before answering, as though unsure of what to say, which was unusual for him. Usually he would just blurt out whatever was on his mind. She shifted uncomfortably under his intense stare before sighing and looking away.

"I'm confused," she confessed quietly. She paused to gather her thoughts before speaking again. "Why would you do such things?"

His expression shifted to one of concern. "Did something happen?" He asked hesitantly, placing a hand on her thigh. "Is everything okay?"

She sighed heavily and placed a hand overtop his. "My boyfriend is dead. My parents are dead. I lost my job and I can't go home."

She paused momentarily, allowing a brief look of regret to pass over his face. She could practically see the cogs turning inside of his brain. She supposed she should be glad he hadn't gone off and killed someone himself, but at the same time she wished he had. Then maybe he'd know exactly what to say to ease her fears, but unfortunately for her he didn't know what to say. The silence between them grew uncomfortable once again. She watched helplessly as he struggled to think of the best way to comfort her. She'd seen him struggle to deal with people being upset by things before. Back when he'd first joined their group he would often become extremely nervous and hesitant whenever she cried. However, she' d come to realize that it was more a case of his inability to comfort others than his inability to comfort himself. He was a very reserved person, but there were some aspects of his personality that were easy enough to read. Like now, for example. He looked concerned, almost scared. He was probably worried she would get angry at him if he told her what he had done, but the longer she sat there watching him struggling with the subject the angrier she got. She could have slapped him, she could have hit him, she could have left him there alone to stew in his own guilt. But she didn't. When she saw the look of fear growing gradually stronger within his eyes she decided to remain silent. She would let him work things out on his own, just as she had done for months before. Perhaps he really had come to understand her more than she'd hoped. Maybe he really knew what he was doing when he kissed her the night before.

They sat like this for another few minutes without saying anything, until finally he spoke up. "We should probably go downstairs," he suggested cautiously. She nodded silently, not knowing what to say. He rose slowly, taking hold of the hand that she had laid across his chest so that he could pull her to her feet. They started toward the door, neither of them making eye contact with the other as they went. Once they reached the stairs, Katsuki stopped suddenly, bringing her to a halt right next to him. Taking in a deep breath, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. With a quick glance up towards the staircase, he pressed his lips to hers. She gasped softly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and returning the kiss eagerly. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips tentatively, asking for permission. She obliged, opening her mouth slightly so that he could slip his tongue inside. She pulled away abruptly, biting her bottom lip in frustration when he let her. "Sorry," he said, releasing her completely and taking a step backward. "That was probably-"

"Don't apologize," she interrupted firmly, grabbing his arm and tugging him closer to her, forcing him to lean down. This time she allowed him access to her lips without complaint, allowing him to take control of the kiss. She moaned as he slid his tongue inside her mouth, drawing it out leisurely before slipping it back inside. She tilted her chin upward, granting him better access to her mouth. She pulled him impossibly closer to her, tangling her fingers into his hair. She couldn't help but moan loudly as he began kissing her throat, her collarbone, her breast. His kisses trailed lower, landing softly against the sensitive skin between her breasts. A mixture of excitement and anticipation coursed through her body. Every single nerve ending in her body tingled with desire. The sensations running through her body were so strong, she didn't even feel cold. She could hardly stand it. She pulled away from him after a couple of moments of blissful kissing, resting her forehead against his. She took several deep breaths to try and regain her composure. She wasn't sure whether or not she succeeded. All she knew was that she didn't want him to stop touching her.

"Let's talk about something else," she whispered hoarsely. He lifted his head and nodded his agreement. She stared at him for a moment and watched him frown slightly, as though trying to figure out what she meant by that statement. She didn't bother explaining what she meant as she stepped back from him and began walking back upstairs. As soon as she was a couple of steps above the floorboards she heard him following behind her. She was pleased that he didn't ask questions, or attempt to change the topic. Even though he didn't say anything she assumed he understood her request to talk about anything other than what happened earlier. It didn't matter what they talked about as long as it kept them away from their problems. Their problems were far too heavy for either of them to bear.

She returned to bed that night with her heart pounding wildly. She didn't sleep. Instead she lay awake staring up at the ceiling, wondering how she was going to tell Katsuki about her parents. It felt like everything she did today just made things worse and worse. She had to find a way to break the news to him gently, otherwise he might end up blaming himself for what had happened. She'd had to lie to him about where she'd gone, but she didn't care. What did it matter? She already knew the outcome of the conversation. They were doomed to live out a life of constant pain and sadness, and she wouldn't allow any part of her to be tainted by the memories of the past. Eventually she turned onto her side and closed her eyes, attempting to fall asleep. It was difficult to achieve, however, as she found it impossible to relax in spite of having spent the entire day in an uncomfortable and stressful situation. She tried to focus on the sound of her mother's footsteps in the kitchen instead. She tried to focus on the sound of her father's breathing in his bedroom upstairs, but she also tried to focus on anything else. She focused on the softness of the bed. She focused on the cool breeze coming in through the open window. She focused on the steady thumping of her own pulse. Finally, exhausted from trying to fight against the inevitable and unable to ignore it any longer, she gave up. The events of the day continued to swirl around her head. There was no escaping them now that she was conscious of them.

When they woke up the next morning she knew something wasn't right. Something was wrong.

The feeling lingered for most of the day, until it seemed to permeate every inch of her body. She barely ate, scarcely slept, hardly moved. Her parents were dead. That much was evident in the state of her apartment. The furniture had been taken apart, presumably destroyed, the windows smashed, and she could tell by the smell that her bedroom closet had been emptied of its contents. After that, her phone buzzed repeatedly. No texts or calls came in, not even a single message from Izuku (or Todoroki), so she assumed he must be avoiding her. For what reason, she couldn't begin to guess. She'd tried talking to him multiple times, sending him several messages, but each time he simply ignored her. She didn't understand, and it hurt more than she could ever have imagined it would.

Finally, she collapsed into bed that night, ignoring her phone's incessant buzzing. It was clear she wasn't going to be able to fall asleep.