Chapter Thirty-eight | Discord

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IF A PAINTER WERE TO STAND before them, the painter would feel the need to brush the image before them in a grand canvas. The image of a Queen sat on the settee while the King stood a merciful distance away from her, not too far away like treating each other as strangers and certainly not too close to form a familiarity of intimacy between them. However, it was not their mere position that would make the painter yield their brushes, it was the volume of stifling air that hangs around them, choking out the genuine anger and disappointment at their stubborn faces.

It would be a picturesque of betrayal and foreboding discord. A theme the painter would want to capture.

While (Name) dared not to move to try and sit comfortably on her seat, her hand came up to cup the small bump forming on her belly as she looked up at Bakugou. Her husband didn't even bother to change out of the clothes he had worn in his journey back home and it was clear the long road has not been forgiving to him, he looks tired and disheveled with his face falling into many downward emotions. He wears such a confusing expression that (Name) finds it hard to decipher his one, true feelings. Every time he blinks, his eyes shone differently, first it was anger, then tiredness, and anger once again, until his face fell as if a century has wore him down and now he's just so disappointed. And probably hidden in there, which he will fight for his life to never admit, is sadness.

He's calm. Awfully and terrifyingly calm. (Name) knows there is always a calm before the storm, and she knew very well that she was the one who brought the storm upon herself.

"Is it true?" His voice sent a jolt on her like a thunder that threatens to commence the tempest.

She did not answer even though she has the clearest image of the subject of his question, it is the very thing that her hand is touching right now. Their child.

"Answer me, (Name). Is it true?" Bakugou asked again, this time she has prepared her voice.

It came out as a whisper, "yes."

The drumming of her heart became painful as Bakugou slowly started to walk towards her, he raised his hands and started to take off his gloves- (Name) did not even notice he had gloves on, when he's finally standing in front of her, she could see the hesitation in his eyes and the way his hands clenched in unease. He raised a hand but hesitated and withdrawn it back to his side. He was reaching out for her stomach, it was as if the physical contact with his growing child is the only thing that could answer his question. But he backed down, it broke (Name)'s heart, secretly wanting his touch.

Instead, Bakugou opted to sit on a chair across her. Legs spread and elbows resting on his thighs, he lowered his head so his hand can run through his blonde hair. Then he asked without looking at her, "And the other thing you did. Is it true?"

(Name)'s breath was cut short upon the question. She didn't want to answer, but she has to. Not only because he's demanding it, but also because the range of anger and disappointment in his voice has passed her ear and never came out of the other. Guilt is starting to transpire from deep within her.

Of course, it was obvious he had known it from Midnight and (Name) knew that Bakugou trusts the noble. Probably more than he trusts his wife. So there's no point lying about this. She could only hope that she'll be able to keep her other and more important secret, something she swore not to reveal no matter the circumstance, even right now when she's in a very dangerous situation. But for now, the only concern is their child and her past acts.

"Yes," she swallowed nervously.

Bakugou's hands dropped limply between his legs. He became quiet again. (Name) waited until he look at her with slight glare.

𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 | Bakugou Katsuki x ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now