𝗨𝗡𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗬 𝗕𝗨𝗟𝗟𝗬

013. 𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗬 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗦

"Who is this friend of yours?" He frigidly inquired, one eyebrow raised, half glaring at the innocent broker, folding his arms as he awaited a response. He at least wanted to know who stole his place.

The man appeared friendly enough to share his stories, everyone he had come into contact with were strangers who would forget one another within a day. He redeemed.

"A college workmate of mine, who goes by the name Whitlock. He used to be an engineer, but I'm not sure if he is still pursuing that career... He has a daughter, If you are looking for a bride." he finished, unsure towards the end of his sentence, turning to the male.

The blonde stopped blinking, wide-eyed, stuck with his thoughts, the man noticed.

"Is... something the matter?" he asked.

The young man resumed his scornful attitude, wrinkling the gap between his eyebrows, suddenly sly he glanced to the right, gripping his crossed limbs. His face non-verbally expressing his thought process, the man knew what was to trust from the serious gesture. Either disapproval or reckless talks.

"On second thought." He went on.

"I'll buy this house, I want the papers and whatever stuff that needs to be done given to me, I want this house, and you better not sell it off like the last one." The blonde growled, glaring with rancor.

The sudden change had amazed the broker but he merely welcomed it, shortly agreeing to deliver the vital sheets and shook hands. Katsuki gave him a sharp look, tossing a quick glance to the rooms and soundlessly concluding that he might need more safety. He noted this might be the most ideal place to keep someone safe and locked up.

Now, to finally get in touch with her.

A YEAR EARLIER

Katsuki woke up in a cold sweat.

Groaning and supporting his throbbing head before kicking the blankets off his warm body, and sitting slouched on the edge of his king-sized bed.

He stared at the mat underneath his foot, feeling irritated and bothered by his soaked tank top.

He had a vapid dream of his crush. It was a repeated sequence of her during middle school, the kiss they shared, how she vanished giving the most hateful eyes he's seen been directed towards him, then, a vivid sound of her crying, wailing, he remembered it from the time she ran off after they kissed.

The constant loop of her voice saying 'I hate you played in his head, every time he sat still that desolating tune returned and returned like a ghost.

What's he to think when she's cut him off from her life entirely, he's guilty, he knows, but how far was she willing to take this so she could wrong herself by doing that?

The image of her perched at her chair at school and he watching her from behind was like a picture clung to his memory, her soft expression facing him, she almost smiled but not at him.

He got up from bed and parted the curtains, looking outside at the empty entrance of his house and another memory flashed in his mind.

She was hurt, eyes brimming with big tears one time, had he pushed her? Maybe, he did do that a lot, but her crying face would always be involved in every one of his memory.

"You brat, what took you so long!" roared his mother, scowling at his face from across the table, his father sitting beside her grasping a glass of tea.

"I was taking a shower!" he retorted, glaring back at her as usual, his pops never interfered in the middle of their jeers. And he probably never would.