Speak (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

[30; exacerbate]

You didn't speak to Katsuki in the days that followed.

People were visibly concerned—your closest friends especially. It was as though the mask you'd so desperately been trying to maintain had completely slipped off. You no longer bothered to smile or laugh. You didn't even feel like yourself anymore.

It was worth mentioning that you weren't exclusively ignoring him; the silence that ensued was a two-way street. He no longer invited you to sit with him in the cafeteria from time to time, even going so far as ensuring that his own table was nearly halfway across the room from yours. If the two of you ever brushed shoulders in the halls, neither of you said a word.

The worst part was that you weren't even surprised. You'd had a feeling that this was how things would unravel, the moment you told him about your fading mark. The whole situation couldn't even be classified as spiteful or malicious—it just seemed like neither of you cared anymore. The "soulmate" arrangement was over; making an effort didn't seem to merit the payoff.

That was how you found yourself lounging around over the weekend, looking more empty and depressed than you ever had before.

"[Name], honey?" Your mother was looking over at you, brows laced with concern. "Is everything alright?"

You shifted on the couch, but only to incline your neck upwards. Your eyes were lidded and utterly devoid of emotion.

"Yeah," you mumbled quietly. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Tired, but...it's already 3 in the afternoon..."

You shrugged. "I haven't been sleeping much these days."

"I see." She drummed her fingers over the countertop, no doubt pondering what to say next. It looked as though she was trying to swallow her words before they came. Probably in an attempt to spare your feelings.

"What is it?" you sighed. "I know you wanna say something."

"No, I'm just—" She frowned. "This just isn't like you. I've never seen you look so deflated before. Sure, everyone has the odd couple of days, but it's been like this for a while. And it only seems like it's getting worse."

You turned your attention back to the TV. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But, sweetie—"

"I don't want to talk about it." You gritted your teeth, fully aware of how vicious that last sentence had sounded. You could hear your mother stifle a gasp; she'd never seen you shun her like this.

"...Alright," she murmured. "Clearly, this isn't going to work out. I know you're upset about something, but if you refuse to talk to me about it, then the least you can do is call Uraraka over so that you have a friend by your side. How does that sound?"

You nodded listlessly. She let out a weary sigh, already picking up the phone and dialing your best friend's number.

—

"I have some things to get off my chest."

Uraraka's eyes widened. She'd barely just stepped through the door and you were already hovering by her side, ready to overwhelm her with your mountain of problems. Any other person might've been nervous; annoyed, even.

But not Uraraka.

"Finally!" she exclaimed, wrapping you in a big hug. "I've been waiting forever for this! Come on, girl—let's sit down and you can tell me everything."