𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐨𝐧 | b.k.

Chapter Thirty-Four

34.
Chapter Thirty-Four : Guilt

Over time, life returns to normal. It was another week or two before Y/n went back to work. But it was not even the day after that dinner with Katsuki and his family before Y/n was spending more time outside of her room. She started helping around the house—cleaning, cooking, even tending to the landscape outside—just to give herself something to focus on. Something that wasn't her dead fiancée.

Now, about a month and a half after the fire, Y/n is... she hasn't gotten over the death of Izuku, but she's okay. She's working and hanging out with her friends again, shopping and running errands for the Bakugous, and in her spare time, she's overseeing the reconstruction of her family's home.

It's a Saturday morning. Y/n doesn't have work, but her day is still loaded with things she needs to do. While she's still rooming with the Bakugou family, she's no longer hogging Katsuki's room. They started sharing the room about three weeks ago, and it's the mere memory of that night that has Y/n waking up from her slumber.

It takes her a second to break away from the chain-like grasp that sleep has on her, but when she does, she wakes up to the heavy weight of an arm draped over her waist and the steady feeling of a chest rising and falling against her back. The smell of spices, natural musk, and fresh cotton fills her senses—easing her mind.

Y/n does her best not to move too much as she stretches out her legs and arms, conscious enough not to wake up Katsuki. He got in late last night, and she would hate to wake him up before nine. She's not very good at her job, because as soon as she moves her legs out away from Katsuki's, his grasp on her tightens and he heaves a groan.

The woman gulps as her body stills, her heart erratically beating from within her sternum.

"Good morning." Katsuki hums, his voice raspy and deep.

Y/n's tongue freezes in her mouth as she goes to form a response, Izuku's face appearing in the forefront of her mind. It hasn't even been two months since he died, and yet here she is... cuddled up in the bed of his childhood bully. She feels horrible, and it must be obvious because Katsuki pauses mid-yawn to roll Y/n over. With him on his side and her front facing the ceiling, he can clearly tell that she's distraught.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what over.m

He doesn't say much. No, he reaches for one of Y/n's hands and brings it up to his lips to place a gentle kiss upon her skin. His stubble scratches her skin but she doesn't flinch away. She heaves a sigh.

"Do you think he suffered?" Y/n asks, her voice laced with sleep.

Katsuki purses his lips and heaves a sigh. "I..." He pauses, unsure of how to answer. "I don't think so. I hope not." He says, easily lying through his teeth.

It's quiet for another moment. Y/n mauls over Katsuki's words and she tries not to dwell too much on what happened just a couple of weeks ago, because she knows that if she does, she'll spend the entire day wallowing.

"Enough of that." Katsuki huffs. He sits up and he rolls out of bed with a groan, his joints creaking. "I'm gonna make you breakfast."

"What—No! I was going to make you-"

Katsuki doesn't give her a chance to say anything. He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "You deserve a fine breakfast in bed. Don't you lift a finger. I'll be back in ten minutes."

He's out the door without another word, walking away wearing nothing but his denim jeans. Y/n can't hep but stare at the smooth plains of his back, her eyes drifting down to his ass.

As her face heats up with shame, Y/n turns to face away from the door. She finds her eyes focused on the dainty little ring fit around her finger, and tears start to well in her eyes.

I'm a horrible fiancé. She subconsciously mutters, her bottom lip wobbling. She would soon find herself thinking about the little bit of time she had with Izuku before the fire. She only had him for what? A month? Almost two? She had just gotten him back and then he was torn away from her, but this time permanently.

The mere thought of never seeing that stupid smile again made her heart ache. Grief gripped at her heart like a vice, wrapping its fingers around the organ and sinking its claws into the flesh, only drawing out more pain. More pain and guilt.

Guilt for the fat that she was cozied up with Katsuki this morning, and every other morning this week, while Izuku's ring still sat on her finger. Guilt for the butterflies nesting in her lower abdomen—and that particular feeling only made her feel worse when Katsuki acted as sweet as he did. Guilt for still being alive.

Izuku didn't deserve that. She finds herself thinking. He had just returned from a brutal war, and now he was dead. Dead in a freak accident...

Y/n must've been drowning in guilt for a while, because suddenly the smell of freshly cooked eggs, bacon, and brewed coffee was wafting through the room. The door to the bedroom was shut, the soft click of the lock fitting into place was muffled by the sound of Katsuki as he moved to sit beside Y/n.

She doesn't move for a second as an attempt to rid the evidence of the tears she cried, but it proves to be useless. As soon as she sits up to receive the plate of food Katsuki made for her, he clocks her. He notices the tear stains on her cheeks and he notices just how red and puffy her eyes are.

He frowns, but he doesn't say anything. What is there to say? What could he possible say that would make this all better? Nothing, because the only thing that would make this better is if Izuku magically walked through the door.