WARNING: MAY CONTAIN TRIGGERING CONTENT, IMPLIED USE OF DRUGS, INVASION OF PRIVACY ANF VIOLENCE.

The night extended, and slumber didn't lure her into sweet dreams.

She kept jerking up from her disturbed leisure gawking at the palest sound, the dusk scarier when she's alone and it's opaque, noiseless, hyper-aware of her drawn breaths. A dull shine radiated from outside her window procuring some luster into the darkroom, she paused, shutting herself in her coverings, arduously laying her unquiet thoughts to sleep. She stilled.

Eventually, the birds began cheeping and her pounding chest was subdued.

Wariness plunged her slow-blinking eyes seeing herself in the mirror whilst she brushed her teeth, she could only close her eyes for two hours before she woke herself up, uncertain and frightened. It felt like she had only blinked and reopened her eyes.

Lowering her face first by the staircase she peered into the hall, gingerly climbing down and taking in the view. The unfinished fries abandoned to fester with the air, a few chip crumbs broken into tiny chunks, her water bottle left unsealed. It was just the way it was when she fled to her room.

She checked every door.

Clasping a bat she cautiously stepped out to the truce breeze straining her eyes to pin out anything out of place thinking she would be vigilant enough to notice, glancing at the intersections of the house, she looked up at her home.

What if he hadn't really gone? What if she just dreamt of his arrival? She wasn't in a sound space to distinguish and she knew it, halting before the entrance and she stepped inside after finding nothing of implication, just a perfect garden and the seeds her mother had sowed as it was the first she saw.

For some reason.

She didn't trust her eyes.

A FEW MONTHS EARLIER.

With the alluring sound of nature, greens, and thin branches raffling to the wind, two footsteps made their way to the architecture, a young man in his early 20s, blonde, tall, sturdy toned arms, board shoulders, sullen glare monitored the diffident location. The older man accompanying him wore a precise grin, guiding the person to the house they were about to view, a quixotic stunning home.

"The house is newly furnished, polished, just finished the preparation a few days ago, and is supplied with basic necessities, you won't have a problem here." The man assured palms open and looking at the boy who listened along, his red eyes low-lidded and an ever-present frown adorning his lip. Coming across as unemotional, and irascible.

The man didn't seem bothered, professionally handling himself and his business explaining most things as they ascended the stairs, letting the door unfasten as the two stepped into the smell of fresh paint and adhesives, the wood lowly creaked, the white and black walls of the place designed beautifully, a hand politely pointing the facilities, rooms and specific mentions and cautions of the owner as they further into the territory

"If you are to make a purchase, the house will only be on sale for a month more. There are other houses you could see, but they might lack what you want, this is the most secluded and quiet place I could find." said the man with a slight nod, maintaining eye contact.

"And what about the last place we saw?" stolidly questioned the blonde lifting his lip and pulling his brows inwards, the man glib, saying, "That place got rented a long time ago, the owner told me one of my friends had surprisingly brought it." He enunciates before thinking.

He scowled, taking his hand out of his pocket and raising his voice, "Did you sell it off after I made it clear I was interested!?"

The man quickly puts up his hand, answering, "No, the owner hadn't told me, usually, homes get booked beforehand with a little compensation, you hadn't quite made it clear to the owner so he sought it off." he shuts his mouth, nervously smiling at the irritated customer.

"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.

Plopping down on the opposite chair, he leaned back and defensively folded his arms.

"Slow brat, how long does it take to bathe?"

"At least I don't smell of sweat!" he argued, the mother gasped, reopening her mouth to shout, "Katsuki, my stupid son, might I remind you I gave birth to you, so you have my genes as well, you smelly brat." she boasted, if only she were near she would grab his ear and bellowed some more.

He toughened, opting to simply exclude their shouting session.

The family ate breakfast with lingering truculence. The quiet party in the group timidly gazed at his son and wife, sipping some of his bitter drink that was viler and tart than what he'd make, but would he dare say so to his volatile spouse? No.

"So, when are you planning to marry, Katsuki, when will you bring a grandchild home?" Abruptly and mockingly teased the mother, mischievously grinning and instantly earned a comeback from her son.

"Shut up, you old hag!"

"Hmm, oh I know, honey, you remember that girl our boy chased in his childhood, what was her name, it was such a pretty name!" she groaned, shrugging her shoulder in disappointment.

He stopped for a moment, something unsettling conjuring the air around him and he did not give back his response, continuing to have his meal in silence. The pair seemed to notice.

"Well, our son will be graduating from U.A. soon." The father calmly mused, softly smiling at the two and feeling proud and they both expected a reaction from their prideful son. However.

"Yeah," their son demurely mumbled, leaving his plates emptied and striding out of the room.

The couple watched his back, as the noise of the door unbolting and closing greeted them.

Somehow, they couldn't squelch the dread pooling in their stomach and, it felt like they had cuffed down rows of needles.

---

She stopped slowly blinking at her shoe, her body stiff and loose, her casual black outfit didn't blend her into the environment, it only made her stand out.

Advancing through her plan, she ambles into the office, her gaze drifting to the center of the room before bowing her head to hand out the documents from her bag, the stern man wordlessly watched her keeping a maintained facade, she immediately greets him, "Good morning sir, I've come to sign the papers."

Unbothered, pulling one of the drawers from his desk like he had better tasks to finish, he frowned, the girl meekly stood awkwardly shifting her posture and resettling the strap of her purse on her shoulders, bending forward to view the sheets her manager slammed on the desk.

"About time you thought of coming back, your constant leaves have compelled me to think you've grown indolent." he bitterly articulated, placing his gripped knuckles on the table and eyeing her to respond. She did not say anything, her face already betraying what she felt hearing him.

"It's good you are planning to leave, I wouldn't want to keep an irregular employee who is absent for the majority of her days. Take the papers and get out of my office." his voice pitched higher, snatching the sheet she had barely touched and angrily signed it before throwing it into her face, reflectively, her face moved back.

"Get your stupid face out of my sight."

His words weighed heavier on her vulnerable mind.

She walked out, humiliated, dismissing the curious stares of her co-workers and sauntering to the exit with her hand holding onto the object strapped on her left, sighing and gloomily carrying on with her day, within a few forlorn rungs, her phone buzzed, she picked it out of her pocket, prosaically soaking in the ID of the call, her sister.

She didn't feel like talking.

Scooping it into place, she made her way home. Letting the device ring.

She locked the door behind her, flung her handbag onto a piece of furniture, and swiftly went to her room, she didn't change out of her clothes and pulled out a suitcase from her wardrobe.

Perching it onto her bed, she got to work, throwing her shirts and dresses, everything in the large traveling crate, pumping in more articles but upon coming to the last few drawers, she spots an eye-catching golden peeping from below, and soon, she found out it was the all might toy she got, almost four years ago, should she take it?

She couldn't waste time thinking.

Deciding to worry about it later, she returns the plushie to its place.

The sun was drowning in the skies, and she latched the cover of the suitcase, removing it from the top of the mattress and bringing it down, swiveling it to the front of the room, then, she turned around to get her wallet, kegs, and crucially, her passport, she stuffs them into her black purse, double-checking everything once it was readied.

It was time to leave.

Organizing herself in the mirror, she loosened her hair from the low ponytail figuring in her frantic frenzy, her hair tie might detach, shoddily applying a benign layer of make-up.

She was going to stay at a hotel, for a few days till she could reschedule her flight, she had made the mistake of overestimating the days she would have been able to breathe peacefully. Now that she was alone, and her parents were not around, she was in an unguarded standpoint.

This time, they wouldn't be able to help.

Walking down the stairs with her suitcase, she mounts her pouch on it, letting it sit at the entrance while she browsed through everything.

She embarks on her progress with the windows first, quickly pulling a couple of them shut with urgency and fear, drawing the curtains and sealing the place off before she emigrated, knowing she should cover the couch with a white sheet but allowing it to slip her mind, she could come back again to fix, all she wants is to get out of the house.

She's on the verge of finalizing her survey on the final window on the upper floors, overlooking several things as solace surged her senses.

She tacitly shambled down the treads, passing by the corridor. She pauses. What was that figure she was seeing from her right?

Racking her brain to understand if she had glimpsed it right or wrongly. She turned to it.

"You planning on leaving?" Called out a husky voice from the settee, she stopped breathing.

A shudder rushed down her spine, and then, she looked at him, arrogantly allotted himself on her special seat. Like a dear caught in plain sight, she strutted.

"Where are your parents?" He curtly interrogated her, her body stiffly snaffling the smallest step backwards, enticing him to a fit of contempt. He snarled, "Not going to answer me, huh."

"Are you still avoiding me like some sort of plague?" He pressured. Fetching out her phone meant getting his attention on it, which would stir up more hostility than favourable, he wouldn't let her call when his glare is sharp and his concealed guilt is deteriorating.

"Am I not worthy of you?! I've been searching for you this entire time!! While you were here, yet again, trying to leave." He shouts, his voice coming out forced and gruffly dark, she shrinks into her skin, his approaching figure inciting dread to merge.

"As if I'll let you leave again." He spoke.

Her heartbeat paces up.

Without a second thought, she quickly galloped. Surprising herself with how fast she had eluded him.

Her retreating footsteps spurred him into action. His audible heavy footfalls boomed in her eardrums. Dashing towards her fleeing figure with wide-open eyes.

Lunging at the door, trembling in terror, breathlessly chanting and shaking the doorknob, loudly whimpering when he slammed her body against it with his own, crushing her entire physique. She was slow with fear.

She cries out, instantly dismissing the impact thanks to the adrenaline currently in her blood, but his large calloused hands jabbed her face back, firmly throwing her away from the exit.

She hits the rigid floor, groaning, scurrying to get away. Regardless, he proves to be faster than her. Shoving her down and straddling her back, harshly grabbing her breakable arms and twisting them behind her. He simpered.

"Guess you are still as delicate as I remember." He uttered casually, the surface of her skin turning red from his steep grip. He tightened his hold, and she continued to lash and bark, defying his bid. He grimaced, striking her limbs down harder.

"Get off of me!!" She screamed, desperately struggling while being held down by a trained brute.

"Arghh! Get off of me!!" She cried out, more garish, draining her energy steadily. Her voice was raspy, splitting the silence of her home.

"You think, I wanna do this?"

"You made me do it, you've been avoiding me our entire life!!" He retorted, his voice louder than hers, he squeezes in more pressure. Keeping her down with sheer strength.

"You never gave me a chance! Do you hate me that much?" He roared, his brows crimped, his cold stare narrowed.

"You hate me so much, don't you?" He sneered. Right near her ear.

"You were trying to leave again, trying to rip me out of your life, weren't you!" He mouthed, his heavy tone eliciting another sob out her lips.

"I will never let you get rid of me."

His voice darkly snapped, his torso leaning more weight on her veneer, trapping the air inside of her lungs, battling to breathe, she stifled, eyelashes damped with tears.

Something cold touched her wrist, it dragged a shiver down her spine, and then it clinked. It was a handcuff.

He loosened his grasp, ignoring her outcries as he pulled her up from the floor, slumping her on his shoulders and stabilizing her thrashing legs.

Moving towards the sofa, flinging her down on it and towering over her, pressing her leg into the cushions but it wasn't effective enough, aggravated, he draws in a heavy breath, staring at her stained face.

"If you make another sound, I'll break your ankles." He threatened, it merely succeeded in making her cry more. He scorned.

"Stop crying." He lowly muttered, face intimately close to her, she closed her eyes, reluctantly swallowing her whimpers, lips curled down, and small tears dripping down her cheek and soaking into the maroon fabric. She looked away from him.

"Please stop, please don't do this, please!" She begged, he heard her but didn't say anything.

"Please I'm sorry I won't ignore you anymore, please let me go.!" She pleaded, and the male prevailed unpersuaded, deliberately worming his fingers around her waterway and staring deep into her fearful eyes, imitating her intakes.

"You move from this spot. It won't end well for you." He grumbled, sternly stating it like he was speaking to a misbehaving child.

She gaped, urging herself to nod.

He fiercely glared, wordlessly questioned her intent and lifted himself to his feet, his loud thumping footfalls sounding in the room, she quietly sat, cautiously turning to watch where he was going, shortly, she heard her fridge open, and fling shut.

Worrying if she did anything, he'd do worse.

He returned with her mug, settled down before her and announced.

"Open your mouth."

She glanced at him, at the liquid then into his red eyes, she seemed unwilling, refuting his strict mandate.

"I said, open your mouth. Don't make me repeat myself." He opened his eyes wider, invading what little leeway was left.

"I don't want it!" She forcefully resisted.

"I said, open your stupid mouth or else I'll shove it down your throat!!" He bellowed, fingers closing on her chin as she receded into the pillows, fastening her lips tighter.

He loudly inhaled.

Without any qualms, he coerced his thumb in-between her mouth, forcing down her lower lip, she withheld him any leisure. He grew angrier. He was bound to snap any moment if this keeps up. Her inner lip was aching, her skin might have cracked.

"I'm telling you one last time, open your mouth." She clutched her jaw, he noticed.

"Fine, the hard way, it is." He said.

He pounced, any action from her side was neglected, how much would her fist hurt him? Not much.

His whole hand shrouded her face, strongly aiming to pry her mouth ajar so the drink he needed her to consume would be cleared, the tip of his fingers created tiny crevices on the skin, sinking into it.

Yanking her face up and spilling it in, his knee curbing into her flesh, deterring her rout. She didn't have time to breathe. He only permits her any movement after she had gobbled it down.

She coughed as soon as he lets go, bending down, her bound hand not enabling her to cover up the sorry sight she's become. He quietly watched. She can't tell how long she panted, but it was long enough to realise how much everything hurt, her pained throat made her voice sound odd.

"Why...?" She whispered, a stream of warm tears oozing out, "why are you doing to me?" She wept.

Black spots were forming in her vision, she wasn't dizzy, she felt paralysed, her stance on the sofa no longer stable, dropping onto the carpet.

Hands beside her head, her legs couldn't exhume the stamina to move. Her movements weren't more than a twitch.

Hopelessly, observing his shoes walk towards her, strong hands embracing her, tugging her, coiling his fingers around her waist and picking her up, bridal style.

He gently set her down. She couldn't keep her head straight.

Katsuki strolled out of the hall, returning with her briefcase and her purse when she opened her eyes again, she breathed a disagreement, peering at the male, he pithily glanced, chuckling, speaking up with a fond tone.

"Guess you were prepared to come with me, let's see if you have all your stuff." He teased, he first took out her passport, "Oh, where were you planning to go?"

"We could both go on a vacation." He mocked, scornfully corking it into his pocket, bolstering a chastising glint.

"On our honeymoon." He snickered.

She couldn't say anything. More tears leaked out of her eye sockets, drenching into the rough texture while she silently weeps.

He fished out another item, then another, enjoying belittling her, finally, he came to her suitcase, promptly plucking one of her bras out, eyeing it, then saying.

"You have good taste."

She released a sob, moaning in misery.

"That was a compliment, why are you crying? You should appreciate it." That didn't help, her aching chest inducing her uneasiness. She felt like her younger self when she didn't dare to stand up for herself.

"Looks like you were right, you are ready to go. I'll get you a few things while we are on our way home." He muttered, heaving her frame up from the warmed rug. Softly whispering.

"You made it so easy for me."