Forget Me Not - One Shot Series

Charlotte Katakuri - BITTER

Your scream of terror rang in Katakuri's ears like a siren. Just like the mythological beast's enchanting song, he couldn't get the sound of it out of his head.

It echoed with every thump of his heart.

Your eyes wide with fear, the way you went ghost-white at the sight of him. Everything about him was monstrous to you, not just his size, or his fangs, or his lineage. His very existence within your home had struck you as wrong.

Things had been slow going between the two of you, since your marriage by Mama's will nearly a decade ago. It had taken almost a year for you to each truly relax around one another. Months after that before you could consider what you did to be called cuddling.

Slowly, carefully, and steadily, the two of you had grown closer. Responsibility turned into affection, turned into trust.

Turned into love.

A sweet love that was the soft tangle of fingers as you sat together. A gentle love that was full of deep breaths and slow movements, consummation within the confines of what intimacy you could handle. A love that was akin to a tree, more than a flower. Slowly taking root, but sturdy and strong, branches hefty enough to cradle you both well.

It was all gone now.

He didn't even have to ask why. He didn't even have to ask how.

Slumping to his knees, Katakuri presses his forehead to the ground, doing everything he can to look smaller, to look less threatening, to look as fragile as he feels.

"I won't hurt you." He says, voice even and firm, held together by decades of practiced control. He repeats the phrase a couple more times, until the thundering of your heart calms a little. Until the shivering in your legs and arms aren't skittering through the floor against his skin.

"I promise, I will never harm you." He says finally, eyes and face still pointed toward the floor. He doesn't have his scarf nearby, he hasn't needed it while inside his home for a long time. He could use his power to get it, but if you'd lost enough of your memories that you didn't even know what Devil Fruits were, he didn't want to send you into a panic right now.

He could look ahead.

Should.

But he can't.

Every ounce of his control is focused on his own heart, his own words. He cannot spare a drop of concentration for anything else, or he will fall apart. The perfect son of the Charlotte family, defeated by a single wail.

Countless battles. Internal and external. Enemies and weaknesses laid low and set as mortar and brick to separate himself from anything that could crack the mask he'd made.

Scraps of film were left on the floor. Shattered pieces of the remnants of your memory.

Left behind on purpose.

Left behind on command of his mother.

Left behind as a message, more than even the state you were in.

He had dared to put something above himself. Above his family. Above his mother. He had dared to love you so completely that only a fool would've missed how far he'd fallen.

To dare to love anyone more than his family.

This was the cost.