《G O O D B Y E 》GOJO S. x READER [BOOK 3]

《T W E N T Y - F O U R》

《CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR》

《WARNINGS: BLOOD, GORE, MENTAL TRIGGERS, LOTS OF GASLIGHTING, SEVERE ANGST》

《VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED》

《BUT LIKE, SERIOUSLY. I TEARED UP WRITING THIS :/》

        HER FINGERS GRIPPED the steering wheel tightly. Her knuckles were white from the force she held it. Her jaw was set, keeping it from trembling. Slowly, she let go of the wheel, reaching to turn the car off. 

She sat back, closing her eyes as she let her head hit against the seat. Her chest rose and fell with a stuttering breath. She reached for the door handle, her hand trembling slightly. She opened the door, getting out of the black car. 

Her gaze fell upon the house she so dreaded to see. She shut the car door with a soft click, rather than letting it slam shut. She slowly walked forward, her feet guiding her along the stone path. She began to walk up the set of stairs, her throat tightening at the sight of the approaching home. 

The golden plate near the door was weathered away after all of the years of rain and snow. She hesitated before reaching up, brushing away the snow that gathered over it. Though, she knew what name was engraved beneath it.

Shinohara. 

Her stomach swirled. She hated that name. It used to be hers. And she was damn glad it wasn’t anymore. 

She looked to the door. It was cracked open, as she could see a little snow had blown into the hallway. She moved her hand away, raising it to her face. A small click filled the air as she unclasped the strap to the eyepatch. She watched the small black fabric fall onto the ground, contrasting against the white snow. She looked up.

She wasn’t alone. She could feel the presence of Neoma lingering in the hall, but she couldn’t pinpoint her exact spot. She more than likely was masking her cursed energy to make this harder for her. 

Y/n grabbed the door, pushing it open. Snow fell onto the dark oak boards as she stepped inside. She dropped the mask over her own cursed energy, making the temperature in the house drop even further. She breathed out, watching her breath come out in a puff. She looked around, lips pulling into a frown. 

She walked forward, ignoring the pictures hung crookedly on the wall. They had originally been thrown in a box. Neoma hung them back up to taunt her.

Her throat was closing up. Her chest was tight. Her stomach was swirling. The air was so dense. 

“You’re probably thinking: why me?”

She spun around. Neoma was leaning against the wall, her foot on the wall, and her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket. She rolled her head over to look at her, her dark green eyes gleaming.