Destroy Me [ ON HIATUS/TODOROKI ]

[ 06. ]

➼

Asami got herself ready for the day before Todoroki had stirred. He was passed out on the couch, finally sleeping soundly after days of restlessness. She took care to look her best, curling her hair and putting on makeup. Saito wasn't used to doing all of that.

She was cleaning the house silently, not wanting to wake him. Cleaning like she had been taught, like a woman should. Cooking like she had been taught, like a woman should. She tried her best to be quiet in the kitchen, but by the time she had pulled out the pans, she saw his head lift from the couch.

She approached him cautiously, standing in front of him as he sat, his hands on his knees. He looked up at her, his eyebrows furrowed. She tried not to stare too intently at his scar. But— beyond that, beautiful eyes. Eyes that in any other circumstance, she may find herself getting lost in. She snapped out of her thoughts and held out the cup.

"Morning tea," Asami said, giving a weary smile. She was half expecting him to hit it out of her hand. Instead, he gently took it.

"Thanks," his deep voice rattled her chest. Was it fear that shook her? Was it something else?

She bowed her head. "It's my duty to serve."

Then, silence again.

That was the last time they spoke for days on end, flitting around and avoiding each other. It was coming close to two weeks, where it was the same routine. She would cook, he would leave, she would clean, he would come back, she would sleep, he would stay awake all night.

Asami was slowly adjusting, becoming used to his presence. He was a ghost to her. The only times she would face him was during their meals. Sometimes, she wouldn't be able to take it, getting up and eating in the bedroom.

Todoroki would leave and do his hero work. She was stuck. In the emptiness of the house. She would play her music, hoping to ease the sense of loneliness. Dancing and singing by herself, reading book after book.

Todoroki, when he would return home, he would sometimes hear her in the bedroom while folding clothes. That brief moment of happiness was all he knew and he hated it. Staring at her while they sat at opposite ends of a table, waiting for one of them to make a move.

That changed when he received a text message from his father.

"We need to talk, Saito."

The normally silent dinner was interrupted by his voice. Asami looked up from the table, her eyes widening. She placed her hands in her lap, her black hair tucked behind one ear.

"Yes, Todoroki?"

He tried to keep eye contact, like a battle he never knew he would have to face. "Father informed me that we will be making a public appearance."

A public appearance? Her breath caught in her throat. She felt her eyebrows beginning to twitch, the familiar sting of tears in her eyes. She was beginning to forget about her reality until the bombshell dropped. No, she wouldn't cry. Not now.

"What would you like me to do?" She asked.

"We have to act like we are more than friends. That means we will have to have some sort of intimate contact," he said, no hint of amusement in his voice. "I wanted to inform you so you were not taken by surprise."

"When— when is this happening?"

She couldn't read him. What was he thinking? How did he feel?

"Tomorrow."

No more words were spoken after that. Saito got up to clean the dishes, scrubbing harder than she needed to. Todoroki had retreated to the bedroom, locking himself in the bathroom, ice climbing up his arm, trying to control his anger toward his father.