#grovelling

The phone dropped to your desk.

Eyes widened, the words were too shocking for tears to well up. Instead, you stared into your computer screen, like you had never seen one before. Your lips began to tremble and you were struggling to respond, even though you couldn’t hear Gojo.

No. It couldn’t be true.

With a shaky hand, it was a surprise the phone didn’t drop out of your hand again when you lifted it to your ear.

“Hello?” Gojo spoke.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” You asked, sounding the complete opposite to how you sounded when you first answered the phone.

Please let it be your ears that heard that wrong.

When Gojo’s name popped up, you answered with a hopeful “hello”, hoping it was good news. It wasn’t like you were friends or even acquaintances with Gojo by any means, this was only your second or third time talking to him over the phone only, and also given how him and Toji did try to kill each other when they were on the same mission - he had all the rights not to help you. But despite that, Gojo didn’t seem to take it personally, and you were glad he was willing to help you.

“Toji is getting married,” he repeated. To hear it again, already made a headache form. You blinked slowly. “I’m sorry. Apparently to some girl in the Zen’in clan, from what I heard. I only know this because a new student of mine is an ex-Zen’in member and was talking about a rumoured marriage going on.”

You let out a breath, that Gojo could probably hear because of how shaky it was. Actually, if he had told you that Toji had fled the country to go halfway across the world - it would have been way more easier to take in than what you just heard.

Toji is getting married.

Toji.

Married.

To some girl in the Zen’in clan.

Some girl.

“I’m guessing it’s an arranged marriage. They do some crazy stuff in that clan,” Gojo said, with a slightly lighter tone. You had heard from Toji that Gojo didn’t take anything seriously, and that the two were almost similar in the way they spoke - but with his tentative tone towards you, you could tell he was trying to make things better.

A beat of silence passed, as you tried to even comprehend the information.

“A-about the ex-Zen’in member that is your student,” you started, deciding not to pour out your feelings to Gojo. If you couldn’t even contact your family or friends during this time, how could you tell a stranger you barely knew your feelings? But he could probably tell how you felt, especially if you were desperate enough to contact someone Toji fought. “Do they…by any chance know Toji?”

There was a slight pause on the other end, as if Gojo also knew it was no hope. “I could ask her, but I think she just heard it around too. She’s a teenager, so, much younger than Toji and she wasn’t close to anyone in the clan, so I’m not sure.”

“No worries. Thank you for checking. And for calling,” you spoke, in a whisper.

“Hey, it’s no problem. If there’s anything else I can do for you, you can call me.”

You really did appreciate it, even if it was out of pity.

Was it better to live in ignorance, after hearing this? Possibilities of different situations, scenarios and instances of Toji getting married ran through your mind, but the realistic part of your conscience kept telling yourself there was no point in finding a reason.

It didn’t matter if it was arranged. Or even if he began to like this girl. Or if he liked her from the beginning and it wasn’t arranged. Two months of nothing was what mattered more. He did not even have it in him to tell you. He’d rather you wonder about him like he was an incessant disease.

Toji was always bad at communicating, often playing things off as if they were nothing, but it wasn’t like your fights in the past were ever anything too bad or serious. However, you found yourself wishing it was a fight instead. At least then, you wouldn’t have been left in the dark. You would have known if you could have done something to upset him.

But no, things were going so well. Maybe not his tensions with the Zen’in clan, but he always told you your relationship was his escape from it. You woke up to each other, ate dinner together after work, fell asleep together and spend the days off together. Until he fell completely off the face of the earth and suddenly you were apart; he did not want to be found by you.

Or maybe…it was forced. The clan saw how much Toji was defecting, along with how powerful he was, and they needed to keep him there somehow, and he couldn’t contact you. But what made him stay? Had he not tried to get out of the marriage and the clan somehow? Were you not enough motivation for him to try?

It couldn’t be that they were threatening him, surely? Despite all the horror stories of Toji’s abuse from Zen’in, they knew he was powerful and fast. Maybe he was giving up on the idea of freedom and realising it did more harm than good.

So, you didn’t even bother contacting Gojo Satoru again or anyone else to see if they could help you locate where the Zen’in clan was. What were you going to do, barge into a sorcery clan and say “I object this marriage”? It wasn’t like Toji was going to agree with you either.

6 MONTHS LATER

Six months since Gojo Satoru uttered those words to you, and six months since you gave up searching.

Yet your mind didn’t give up.

Time zoomed past that it did not feel like six months, or eight months - however long that was meant to feel.

It had been almost a year. Even if you were no longer pathetically trying to catch him coming back to the apartment, or contacting his former opponents to see if they had any update on him, you had not necessarily moved on.

Sure, you contacted your family and friends every now answer then, apologising that you had been busy, but you never told them what happened eight months ago. Perhaps they knew something was up when they stopped asking how Toji was doing - since before, when they asked, you’d change the subject.

For every day of work, you were present and no longer took days off; you could not afford to after all the money you lost when you did. Morning till evening, you were there. Followed by walking home slowly in the dark, getting home and crying yourself to sleep.

It was most nights. Unless you had worn yourself out so much with work, you immediately fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Despite the exhaustion, you were thankful for those nights. At least then, you didn’t have to think and think and think…

Your bed was the only place you could be honest.

It just barely smelled of him now, which was enough to make you cry harder. Before, all you could smell was his scent. Using his cologne made it smell too much like chemicals. At this point, you were nuzzling your head into the fitted sheets and pillow to get anything more, at least an ounce more of his scent.

Your bed was the only place you could be desperate. Pathetic. Ridiculous. Completely lack self-respect.

Where you could wonder what he was doing. How he was doing.

Though you knew he didn’t deserve the thoughts. Let alone all the desperation you had, to look for him ten months ago, before you found out he was getting married.

Was his marriage going well? Had he moved up the ranks in the clan?

You hated yourself for wondering. Let alone crying.

In the past, you believed him when he said he loved you. He would say it so often that it came out naturally, saying a quick “love you” before one of you left the house, or softly before you drifted off to sleep.

Perhaps it was so easy for him to say because he did not mean it, or at least, not anymore. After all, he wasn’t an emotional person.

One evening, you were about to get off work. You stayed back again, working overtime. Drowning yourself at work for as long as you could meant you had less time to think, at least not as in-depth as you did when you were alone and in bed.

It was easier to work overtime since someone from the floor below had began working in your sector a few weeks ago: Nanami Kento. He said he told the office he was planning to quit soon, and as some type of last minute manipulation, they transferred him to your floor to see if he’d like it any better. Nanami seemed like a gentleman, from what you had seen of him anyway, in a quiet, blunt and slightly moody way - probably similar to how you came across and perhaps that was why you got along. With his desk next to yours, you both worked in a comfortable silence and you didn’t feel pressured to always talk to him, unlike your other colleagues who often tried to make pointless conversation.

Perhaps before, when Toji was still here, you’d speak more.

Were you so pathetic? That the sudden absence of him changed you as a person?

“Heading home?” asked Nanami, snapping you out of your dismay.

You nod, wrapping your scarf around your neck. “I suppose I can’t stay here all night, it’s been long enough.”

“If they’d even pay us for that,” he spoke, grabbing his bag with a sigh. “Are you going to walk home again?”

I paused, glancing out of the window to be met with pitch black, albeit the lights of other work buildings and passing cars.

You’d told Nanami about how you felt on edge in your neighbourhood lately. Everything was fine on the walk there, but once you stepped into your street and especially up to your apartment, you kept hearing quiet sounds. Almost like footsteps.

You couldn’t tell if you were losing your mind, if it was the wind or perhaps noise from the neighbour. Every time you whipped your head around, checking for anything, there was nothing but the empty street.

“Yes. It’ll be okay,” you reply. You both walked to the elevator together, pressing the button and stepping inside.

“Would you like me to walk you home?” he asked. He was polite yet almost dismissive at the same time, not pestering in the slightest.

You turned your head in surprise. Nanami wasn’t like this. Well, you didn’t know about that - since you hadn’t been in a situation with him before where he had to be chivalrous. But it was exactly that, he didn’t have to offer.

You knew he was kind, but not this kind.

“Oh, no, thank you, Nanami, but…it’s alright,” you answer gently. You wouldn’t want to make his night even longer by taking extra time to walk you home, after working overtime. “That’s very nice of you.”

“Whereabouts do you live?” he asked instead of replying.

You told him your area and street name, before saying, “I don’t want to burden you, really, it’s fine-“

“Oh. I know it. I live near that area too,” he cut in, ignoring your previous words and only focusing on your address. “I also walk to work. It isn’t far from my place.”

“Are you sure? I mean, it’s so late.”

“Nothing will happen to me, but we don’t want anything to happen to you.”

That made you stop protesting, thanking him gently with a breath. Had eight months actually felt so long instead - if it had felt so rare for someone to show their care towards you?

Nanami understood the danger of walking home alone in the pitch black, but especially when the anxiety of someone following you had arisen. You could have sworn you heard someone, but you also didn’t want to see anyone if it was true - incase it scared you even more.

“I really appreciate you walking me home,” you softly spoke up, as you both stepped into your street. You didn’t feel any weird vibe or stalking this time, or was Nanami a good distraction from it?

“If I’m leaving soon, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you,” he spoke bluntly, as if the words were nothing. Your head turned in surprise.

It was the kindest thing anyone had said to you in eight months.

“It’s a shame you’re leaving,” you replied quietly, facing forward again. “May I ask what you’ll be doing next?”

“I’m going back to a previous career of mine: jujutsu.” You looked at him in surprise. Nanami used to do jujutsu? “Specifically…jujutsu sorcery.”

You ignored the way your stomach slightly dropped. Black, almost shaggy hair and a tall, buff figure came into your mind. “Oh. I’m familiar.”

“You are?” He sounded surprised. Perhaps he was taking a risk by telling you it was sorcery, assuming you weren’t aware of it. You wondered why he trusted you with the information, if sorcery was meant to be a secret.

“Someone I…used to know was involved in it. From the Zen’in clan.”

Used to know.

It hurt to even say those words. They felt like fresh scars; it was too soon to mention them.

“The Zen’in clan? That is serious,” he remarked, with a breath.

You knew it all too well. They did not even allow those in their clan to befriend anyone outside of it. Not other sorcerers, not non-sorcerers and especially not to romantically fraternise.

That was unless, you were Toji who wasn’t really apart of the clan, though he had not officially left at the time and he did more than just fraternise with you.

Until…

No.

You refused to think too much about it, just from one mention of the Zen’in clan during this conversation from Nanami.

In front of your apartment door, that Nanami insisted walking you right up to (and you were secretly glad, just incase you heard anything before unlocking the door), you said, “Thank you so much again. I hope your evening is not too wasted.”

“It’s not like I have anything else to see to. Not before I have to wake up again,” he added, his expression lighter, as if he was on the verge of subtly smiling. “At least we have the day off tomorrow.”

“That’s how it is,” you say quietly, your lips barely curling up too.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw something purple around the corner. Your head whipped to the side, but it was gone. Rushing to the last apartment before the elevator, you looked around the corner - but nothing was there. You even checked the stairs, but alas, nothing.

You thought being with Nanami would have made whoever it was back off, but you were wrong.

“Are you alright? Did you see something?” Nanami asked, looking down the stairs with you.

You shook your head, averting your eyes. “I…I thought I did.”

“You must have. What was it?”

“Something purple. Someone’s coat or something,” you answered, before muttering, “I don’t know. Maybe it was my vision or something.”

“Now I’m here, whoever it was seemed to have almost showed themselves,” he spoke, looking around. He saw right through the way you tried to convince yourself it was fine. “That's concerning. Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

You shivered slightly. It was so creepy knowing someone was watching you. “Yes. Thank you. It’s okay, nothing happens inside my apartment.”

"You can call me if anything bad happens. I'll give you my number."

After thanking Nanami one last time for walking you home and for checking up on you, you say your goodbyes and wish him a safe walk home. Stepping in the door, you immediately put all three locks on it when you shut it.

You set your bag down and rolled your shoulders, before searching for something to eat. You weren’t eating as well, seeing as you stayed overtime, you usually got home with a few hours to spare before sleep took over you - you had no time to cook properly.

Midway through chewing down a pot of instant noodles, your phone rang. It was pathetic how fast you picked it up, considering no one rang you often, out of the sheer hope that maybe, just maybe it could be-

Gojo Satoru.

This was the first time he had phoned since he hit you with the words that changed your life six months ago. Hands shaking when memories of that day flooded your mind, you answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello, this is Gojo Satoru. We spoke…ages ago. Six months, I believe.”

A lot was happening today. First, witnessing what you thought was your stalker, and now a sudden call from Gojo - possibly with more information on Toji.

“Hi, yes. We did,” you breathed, sounding restless all of a sudden. All tiredness left your body and now you were immediately on edge. You didn’t need a reminder, not when you remembered what he told you word-for-word.

“I apologise for calling so late. I’m stuck doing paper work after coming back from a mission and it is hefty, believe me, if I had a choice, I wouldn’t do any and just recall to the higher-ups what happened with my memory. But they need it for evidence, blah, blah, blah,” he rambled tiredly and sighed. “Anyways, I know it’s been forever but I’m not sure if you had managed to contact Toji or if he contacted you.”

“Uh…no. I don’t know where he is,” you quietly answered. You appreciated Gojo’s friendliness to talk and ramble to anyone, and you wished you could relish in it the same way, but you weren’t that person anymore. Every part of you had walls up, even to strangers.

“Well, are you still looking?”

You put him on speaker, leaning against the kitchen counter as you contemplated his words.

“There isn’t really anything to look for,” you mumbled. “Have you seen him?”

“In short: yes. Maybe, if you wanted, we could meet and I could tell you over coffee? It’s hard to explain. There’s certain things I can’t say for confidentiality and I’m afraid I have…ears everywhere,” he stated. From what he said about the ‘higher-ups’, you assumed they always had kept watch on Gojo. It made sense, especially since you weren’t a sorcerer and he might’ve shared almost everything to you.

But if it was confidential, should he really tell you? Too many sorcerers you had met in your life trusted you.

You were thinking, maybe the “stalker”, if there even was one, was involved in that world. What if they were from the Zen’in clan?

Ever since Toji left, it was hard not to overthink everything.

The next day, since you had a day off, you sat in a coffee shop with none other than Gojo Satoru. He wore a black blindfold that planted his platinum hair upwards, along with a white button-up shirt and black trousers.

“It’s great to meet you, finally,” he joyfully spoke, with a wide smile. He was happier than you expected, unless it only felt that way with how opposite you felt.

You tried to return it as best as you could, another barely there smile. “You too. Thanks for reaching out and remembering.”

“Thank you for agreeing to meet,” replied Gojo. He set down his, what looked sickly and sweet, hot chocolate - loaded with whipped cream, sprinkles, marshmallows, cinnamon powder and strawberry sauce, as if it were an ice cream. You wondered if he could see it through that blindfold, or if it was all about the intense taste. “I would have told you everything on the phone yesterday night but the elders at Jujutsu High - my workplace - are insane and way too uptight! I honestly don’t get the chance to come out like this anymore, so I hope you don’t mind. I just came back from that mission and I doubt I was even getting paid overtime for all that paperwork.”

“But, I don’t know if you’re still looking for him and I guess it doesn’t matter, but maybe you deserve to know this,” he continued. “I’ll have to shorten the details of it for confidentiality, but who am I kidding? This is way beyond confidentiality, but - I was in Okinawa for the mission, protecting someone who had a hit on them, and…the hitman was Toji.”

Your eyes widened.

The sound of your phone clattering on the desk rang in your ears, though your phone was still in your pocket, it was like you were getting PTSD from when Gojo phoned you six months ago.

Your mind began to race, but not as badly as it did half a year ago. After all, him being a hitman had nothing to do with his marriage. Though you didn’t know why he was a hitman, but he had always been about money.

Whatever. It was his life. Not together, with yours.

Even if you still wished it was.

"A hitman?" you questioned. Gojo and Toji reuniting was like an indirect reunion with you. Though you and Gojo were simply still strangers, and you did not know why he was helping you. Again, it wasn’t like you could pour your yearning thoughts out to Gojo.

Gojo seemed hesitant, as if sensing the discomfort. “I told him that I thought the Zen’in clan don’t just…order hits on non-sorcerers. As slimy as they are. Until he said he isn’t in the Zen’in clan anymore.”

Your eyebrows rose.

Not in the Zen’in clan?

So, he did get out.

Did that mean…

No.

It didn’t.

There was no way his marriage was over. It didn’t mean anything. For all you knew, he was stuck in a forbidden marriage with the girl, if he was out of the clan. What if they both left together?

That would be even worse.

If he cared about someone so much that he was willing to give up everything and finally leave the clan, something he had told you he was planning to do, that meant that his wife was the final straw in finding his happiness.

His wife.

You remembered all the times you stupidly dreamed of that title someday.

“He isn’t?” you asked, more curious.

“I…can’t exactly say who hired him and I don’t know the situation between you and him, but I feel I owe you this information. Though I probably…ruined everything six months ago,” Gojo spoke with a slight laugh, though his tone was more serious.

“Oh, no. You didn’t,” you say softly, shaking your head. “Of course not. I appreciate everything you’ve told me and the effort you put into finding the information. Thank you for calling again and arranging to meet.”

If it wasn’t for Gojo phoning you again, you would have never left the house for anything other than work.

Gojo sighed. “Truth is, I’ve been asked to do countless of missions and stumbled upon side quests, but no one ever asked me for emotional help like this. And to ask about someone like Toji surprised me. He’s always been a bastard, back then when we fought whilst he was still in the Zen’in clan, and even more now. He actually beat me on this mission, by a landslide, and I genuinely thought I was going to die. Geto thought I was dead. And that has never happened to me, ever.”

You gently smiled, at the thought of Toji, as if Gojo didn’t just tell you Toji tried to kill him on the mission and that he now killed people for a living. It had been so long since you had thought of him in such a fond way, but it was quickly dropped and swallowed down with pain and trauma. “Yeah, I’m…not sure how morally correct it is to be a hitman. He was kind of always like this.”

Money hungry. But he didn’t let that get in the way of you. So, what was it that made him marry in the Zen’in clan? Was that girl just better than you?

That was why you were convinced he loved another. Money couldn’t get in the way, but another better person did. So much that he didn’t even break the news to you.

“Well, that’s the main reason I’m telling you all of this. The person we had to protect was a young teenager, and also her guardian. They are both innocent, of course, though… unfortunately associated with the world of sorcery. And Toji killed both of them,” Gojo spoke, quieter this time, probably incase he also had eyes and ears around the café too.

Your heart dropped. You set down your mug of coffee, incase you’d drop that from shock.

He what?

What the hell had happened to him? What could have possibly made him go down this route?

“Oh my…” you whispered.

“He’s a notorious sorcerer killer,” Gojo added. “Look, there isn’t a huge difference between him and I. He’s killing sorcerers for money. I kill curses to use my abilities and fight, because I love it, and for my status as the most powerful sorcerer in the world. I’m not doing it for some righteous reason, but I don’t kill innocent humans.”

“If…he’s a sorcerer killer, why would he kill victims too?” I ask, weakly. Gojo took a sip of his drink, in thought.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter for him anymore as long as he gets the money. But I assumed, since he left the Zen’in clan and he also has no cursed energy, maybe he grew to hate sorcery.”

You slowly nodded. Gojo seemed correct, from all the abuse Toji grew up in. Everything that happened to him was awful, but it could not justify any of this. It could not even justify killing sorcerers - because clearly, not all sorcerers were like those ruthless and unjust high-up ones in the Zen’in clan. Sorcerers were still humans, at the end of the day.

But to get so caught up in it that he had no shame in killing innocent people…

You hated how much you wanted to know what happened and what got him like this? Though he did not deserve the explanation; you deserved to know what made him change, what made him leave.

Did something happen to his wife, his true love?

Or was it simply just pure resentment for the Zen’in clan, spiralled into greed?

In truth, it was not your business or responsibility to know about any of this. You could’ve easily gotten up and left, telling Gojo this information did not affect your life - as sad as it was about the two girls he killed.

But you couldn’t. You could not move on.

Gojo leaned in gently, signalling he was going to say something secretly and quietly. “The main reason I asked to tell you this face-to-face, is because of everything I just told you. I’m going to have to kill Toji soon,” he stated.

“K-kill?” you repeated.

And you immediately understood why.

You were hearing of your favourite person spiralling into something completely different. But was it that different?

Toji told you he felt deprived of in the Zen’in clan, and you understood why. He said everyone in the clan was like that. They never had enough money to pack up and leave, hence why so many were stuck under their rule.

Had he gone this far?

Couldn’t he at least be a “good” hitman, even if he was killing humans, including sorcerers - if they were bad people?

Was he so unfazed?

But you couldn’t imagine it. You had not seen him for eight months now, without a word. You hadn’t heard his deep voice, smelled his scent that was fading from the bed sheets and around the apartment, and you hadn’t seen his face. Had he changed? Gotten even taller? Did he wear his hair differently?

You would not know any of those things if Gojo was pretty much warning you of Toji’s upcoming death.

It depended who won. Just how much stronger had Toji gotten? He was powerful before, but if he had left the world’s strongest sorcerer pretty much dead, or on the verge, then what would happen? Gojo would die and Toji would just continue to kill for a living?

What if Gojo won against him?

Toji would be gone.

You still considered him yours, though you were not his.

Would he remember you in death? Or were thoughts about you now in the past?

Perhaps it was easier if he died. That way you could move on to someone who wouldn’t leave, not like that. But it didn’t matter.

Even if you could or couldn’t live without him, you didn’t want him to die. Maybe you needed to talk to him one last time for your own sanity. Maybe then, you could finally move on.

“Yes,” Gojo answered, softly. “I hope you understand that it’s only justified.”

“I-I do,” you say, though your heart physically hurt. “When…will it happen?”

Gojo sighed, as he thought. “Possibly in the next few days or week. If I can track him at a good opportunity.”

You clear your throat as your heart raced, trying not to just burst into tears. “Why a-are you telling me this?”

“If you wanted to see him one last time. I’m not going too…outwardly say anything or give you any ideas on what you should do, say if reuniting with him goes well, but I’m sure you can think of something.”

Your eyebrows slightly furrowed, at both parts.

You did not know what he meant by the second part, but the first part?

If you wanted to see him one last time.

How on earth would that happen?

It wasn’t like Gojo could connect the two of you together, not if Toji believed Gojo was dead and Gojo was waiting for the chance to pounce.

“See him?” You questioned, like it was the most absurd thing. Because it was.

As much as you yearned for Toji, this was not a good idea. You did not want him to know how much he destroyed you, given how heartless he seemed now. Would he relish in your pain?

You were desperate in your own space, in your head, but not to his face.

"Judging from what I know, he's even more of a dick for what he did to you. It seemed things spiralled since there, so maybe you can find out, even if you don’t care about him in that way anymore.”

You gulped.

You didn’t have long until Toji was going to die.

After meeting with Gojo, you did some grocery shopping and went home, attempting to distract yourself - but the day was dragged out with your thoughts. Nothing you did could take you away from Toji. It was just as bad, if not worse, than six months ago when you found out about his marriage.

He haunted you in your dreams often, but the nightmare you got tonight had you waking up in a cold sweat, shouting. You sat up out of shock, breaking yourself out of the nightmare of him being killed right in front of you with Gojo's bare hands. Tears were fresh down your cheeks and your breathing was heavy, with your heart racing.

Your throat felt sore; you must have been screaming a lot on your sleep. Reaching for the cup on your bedside table, it was annoyingly empty.

Finally getting up to get water, and because you were too scared to go back to sleep, just incase another nightmare generated in your brain, your feet touched the coldness of the bedroom floor and you were about to get up, until you heard creaking.

Creak. Creak.

The same you had heard outside of your apartment.

There was no way….

Creak.

There it was again.

Maybe…it was the neighbours? The wind? Though it didn’t seem particularly windy outside.

Was someone outside of your front door again, or were they literally in your home?

A shiver ran down your spine. You paused, staying as still as you could instead of getting up just yet. To make it easy and sleep in bliss, you could go back to sleep. But you wanted to make sure everything was fine in the house, and wouldn’t it make your nightmares worse if you didn’t check for certain?

Unaware of what time it was in the middle of the night, ten minutes passed without you moving. You were scared you’d make too much noise to scare off whatever the hell it was.

You knew you sounded crazy, when it was probably nothing. When it had been weeks of footsteps and the feeling of being watched, it did that to you.

Quickly but quietly, you padded across the floor, quickly opening your bedroom door.

A figure was facing away, near the door, something purple hanging off of their shoulder.

Same purple from when Nanami walked you home and you saw it outside of your apartment.

“Who-Toji?”

It couldn’t be…

But you recognised him anywhere, even his back.

The same level of panic was in your voice when you uttered his name, and the same fear too. You backed up against your bedroom door, as if you weren’t already stood at it anyway.

He turned slowly, meeting you with that face you couldn’t forget. The face that haunted you every day, every night, plaguing your mind because he was permanent there. His expresion was hard, yet wary.

He was here. He was finally here.

You didn’t need to go look for him, as Gojo suggested you do.

Your eyes widened and breathing shallowed, body stilling against your door.

He was absolutely huge. He had always been buff and tall, but now he was a mountain. Adorned in a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants, he looked even bigger, but you wouldn’t let it distract you.

And his face had gotten slightly smaller. At least, that was what it seemed like when you had your living room’s distance between you two. His hair too, he had chopped it so it wasn’t as long as before, though he still wore it down.

Eight months, yet you noticed any difference about him as if you saw him just yesterday.

And goodness, what was that on his shoulder? Did you just see it moving, or were your eyes funny from sleeping? What kind of pet was that, why did it look like a worm and why was it so large?

Your mouth was even drier than it was when you woke up, needing the water more than anything now. With your throat hitching, you spoke again, in a shaky voice, “What are you-what are you doing here?”

It was irritating how whimpery your voice came out, but you hoped the fact it was the middle of the night was a good excuse.

Yes, you missed him every day. But his presence still alarmed you. Why was he here, when he had gotten everything he wanted? He was married, out of the Zen’in clan, and clearly pursuing a career that was just for him.

How did he even get in here? With his key? Why did he still have it?

"Answer me," you spoke, only slightly louder.

The creaking...the footsteps...and that shade of purple on his shoulder...

Was he your stalker that had been following you home, hanging around your apartment and now he was even inside it? Or what if he had come inside the house multiple times during your sleep and you just didn’t realise?

Why was he doing this? Didn’t he have a wife at home who was asleep or wondering where he was?

He began to take steps closer, about to cross the living room, until you cautioned, “D-don’t come closer.”

He stilled, doing as you said. His expression was conflicted and slightly pained, though he didn’t lose eye contact with you.

“I heard you screaming,” he spoke, as if it was nothing, breaking his silence. As if he hadn’t randomly disappeared one day and you searched around like a heartbroken puppy looking for their owner. As if you hadn’t found out from one of his enemies that he was getting married and could not even muster up the courage to tell you. As if he hadn’t become something vicious, heartless and cruel, that meant he was going to die in a few days.

His voice had gotten deeper too. What had eight months done to him?

"You couldn’t resist a light scoff, though you were still very much terrified and shocked. “So, what, you just happened to be here? Have you been...following me?"

You saw him let out a breath; you remembered he did that when he didn’t have a response. It took the arrogance and entitlement away from his persona for a moment, walls tearing down. He had been caught and you hated it. You wished he would have just spoke to you like a normal person.

What should you even say? It was the middle of the night. Should you tell him you know everything?

“What is that?” you asked, your eyes going back to the weird-looking giant, purple worm on his shoulder. It had puffy lips, like a blowfish and round eyes, that were closed and bulging.

“My cursed spirit,” he answered. So, when it was about his weird pet, he'd speak?

“I thought you hated sorcery,” you replied.

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

Don’t engage with him.

“This isn’t sorcery,” he rebutted. How much longer were you going to ignore the elephant in the room? And no, it wasn’t the worm!

You paused, looking away as you thought. “It was you, wasn’t it? You were there, outside of my apartment when I saw that thing.”

“You mean, when Nanami Kento took you home?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. Never mind that he just admitted to stalking you all these weeks - he knew Nanami?

Heart pacing, you asked, “How do you know him?”

“I know of him,” Toji spoke. Right. Nanami was a sorcerer.

He better keep it that way. Hopefully Toji kept his…killings to simply paid ones. You could not deal with him hurting Nanami. The thing is, Toji was a threat. If he had gotten this big and almost killed Gojo, a fight between him and Nanami would be intense.

“You lost weight,” he observed, tilting his head slightly as he inspected you. After the nightmare, you probably looked dreadfully tired and unkempt in your pyjamas, but you didn’t care. It was the middle of the night and he was creeping around the house. Was he going to watch you sleep or something? “Haven’t you been looking after yourself?”

How long was this act going to go on?

You could not tell if he was trying to seem unbothered, not that he had the right to.

"How dare you follow me, come in here and now speak to me like it's nothing?" you asked, unable to hide your frustration. You didn't want to let your shock, fear and sadness show, but it was hard not to. You just hoped you weren't yelling his name in your sleep, or that would've really given you away.

“Right. You have been coming home late a lot, working overtime, I’m guessing," he replied, ignoring your previous words.

Why was he saying these things as if he cared? As if he wasn’t the reason you were doing so badly?

You closed your eyes for a few seconds in frustration, hoping this was all a vision and when you'd open them, he'd disappear like he did eight months ago. But when you reopened them, he was unfortunately still there, in all his glory - with his gorgeous looks, it was distracting and irritating. “You couldn’t just ask me to find these things out, you had to follow me?”

“We both know I can’t just ask,” he answered.

“And whose fault is that?” you couldn’t resist asking. “Why are you even here, this late? Surely you have places to be?”

“Where?”

“With your wife.”

Stop.

His eyebrows furrowed.

Why on earth did you say that?

He seemed awfully calm and you hated it. You wanted him to be rattled. You wanted him to react as if you had walked in on him cheating.

In all honesty, you wished he just did that, than just disappearing. You had no idea if he did cheat on you before, with this Zen’in girl, or even someone else. But if you knew he did, at least then, you’d have some clarity over what happened.

You shook your head slowly, in thought about what you should tell him. Did he deserve the satisfaction of knowing you searched for him and found out things about him? “I’m going back to sleep.”

“Wait-“

You turned around, opening your bedroom door. “I don’t care what you do, stay or leave. Just don’t follow me and sneak around again.”

Leave.

Leave again.

Leave as you always do.

You stepped into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you. Getting into bed, you pulled the covers over your head and silently cried into your pillow, trying not to sob so he would not hear.

In the morning, you felt awful. Your throat felt even drier and sore, waking up with a cough. Your head was also pounding, were you getting ill?

As if things couldn’t just get any worse.

Honestly, you couldn’t tell if last night was another dream or not. Considering Toji had a weird worm on his shoulder, you hoped it was a dream. After doing your morning routine, you opened your bedroom door and immediately jumped.

Tight black shirt. Grey sweatpants. Long limbs stretched out and a wide frame of abs took up your entire sofa. The entirety of it was covered by him, that he made the piece of furniture look tiny. He was passed out asleep, with his arms above his head.

Toji.

And that giant worm was balanced on the top of his sofa, also snoozing away - at least you thought, since it seemed to have its eyes closed last night when it was awake too.

So it wasn’t a dream. He really snuck into the apartment because “he heard you screaming” and you finally reunited with him after almost a year.

Seeing his face so relaxed with no expression, just at rest, reminded you of all the naps he used to take. Sometimes he’d even sleep on the floor, which used to make you laugh.

But now it was just annoying.

This was technically his apartment too, but it did not mean he could come and go anymore.

Why? Just why was he doing this?

Did he enjoy the hurt on your face so much that after stalking you to see it, he had to see it up close?

You coughed gently as you boiled some water on the stove, needing it to be extra hot to get rid of this brewing cold of yours. You shivered slightly, the morning air feeling even colder.

“Are you sick?” a voice asked behind you and you gasped, your body jolting slightly.

You whipped around, and Toji was stood…so…close. If he stepped any closer and you inhaled, you’d probably faint from the nostalgia that his scent brought you

So, it wasn’t just the distance he stood from you last night. He had gotten even taller. You looked up his frame, to his face that showed far more concern than you needed from him.

You immediately took a few steps back, creating a suitable distance between you both.

“You’re still here?” you asked, as if you didn’t just see him passed out on your couch.

“You said to stay or leave.”

You lightly rolled your eyes to yourself, turning around as you watched steam seep out of the teapot. Curse that it was a day off, because you had nothing to do all day in order to escape him.

Suddenly, Gojo’s words rung in your mind.

“Possibly in the next few days.”

Oh, no.

This was one of Toji’s last few days. What the hell were you meant to do up to his death? You couldn’t just start love-bombing him, because like Gojo said, he’s a dick for everything he did!

He didn’t deserve love and kindness from you. But selfishly, despite everything he had done, especially murdering those two girls, you didn’t think he deserved to die after a rough couple of days.

You make your steaming tea, hoping it would help to warm you up and get rid of this sore throat. You purposely placed the teapot on the hob that was closest to him, hopefully he understood that it was a way of telling him that there was enough water for him if he wanted to have some.

“I’m sorry. I made you sick,” he spoke, seriously.

You felt like laughing.

Sorry?

He was sorry for making you sick.

But you hadn’t heard a sorry for anything else yet. Not that it would make up for all the pain he caused you and was still causing you, eight months after his disappearance.

You still wanted to know what the deal was with his marriage. Did Toji just jump from woman-to-woman when he felt like it?

“That's funny. You still haven’t answered why you’re here. Why you were following me,” you pointed out, ignoring his previous words about you being sick.

Maybe he’d leave after today. Or even after a few hours. Maybe he wanted to let you know he was still around, just to hurt you.

“Because I love you.”

Your eyes widened, setting the mug down incase you burnt yourself out of shock.

The side of his mouth slightly lifted, in that smirk he did.

He thought this was funny. That with just those words, you’d run back into his arms and he could mess around with you, just to toss you to the side over and over again.

“You love me?” you asked, with an emotionless, short laugh. “I thought you’re not the type that bothers with lying, Toji. You just leave without a word instead.”

The smirk slowly faded away, the same, conflicted expression back to his face.

"Baby, I-"

"Stop," you interrupted, in a deadpan. You ignored the slight desperation in his voice. There was no way he could honestly switch from a smug Because I love you, to a pleading Baby. "I don't know what it is you want, but I don't care. Just...go back to your life, Toji."

Stay. If you leave, you'll be dead.

You were having an internal battle with yourself, as well as him.

You looked away, heading back to your room without looking back.

Goodness, you felt like a teenager again, hiding away in your room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you fought the urge to just go back to sleep to avoid him.

Because I love you.

The words made you feel colder, in your slightly sick state. You couldn’t do this, any of it. See him, be face-to-face with him, ask him questions desperately and wanting answers.

But you didn’t actually want him to leave again, for the sake of his life. This was one of his last few days and he had no idea. If Gojo was successful, that is, which he most likely would be if it was true about him being the strongest sorcerer in the world - though it would be a tough fight.

Right. You’d do some more thinking, instead of being hauled up inside as always. It wouldn’t take long.

You quickly got dressed in the most simple outfit you found, trying to keep warm by wrapping your scarf around your neck and putting your coat on. As you stepped out of your room, Toji was still here, sat on the sofa, making it look tiny again.

He stood up, eyes roaming down your coat-clad figure.

“I’m going on a walk. Do not follow me,” you declared, before he could ask. You tossed some folded clothes at him. “Here.”

His eyebrows contorted at the clothes as he gently felt the soft material in his hand, then glancing back at you. “You kept my clothes?”

“It’s half of the wardrobe,” you replied, reminding him that you both did used to share the apartment together. “At least change into something else if you’re going to be here.”

There was something in his eyes, a wistful look. Had you really taken him off guard by how you didn’t just throw away his clothes? They were perfectly good clothes, and a lot of them.

Occasionally, you wore a hoodie or shirt of his - but it wasn’t often or they’d lose his scent. If you kept all of his clothes folded and untouched how they were when you left it eight months ago, his scent would stay.

How desperate, yet again.

You left shortly after, without another word. You hadn’t gone on a walk or just done anything for yourself like this in a long while, so you had trouble deciding the route. Not to mention, going outside made you feel even more ill.

As you stepped through a small nearby forest, being careful not to slip on the mud since it had been raining, you shivered in deep thought. And as always, more than anything this time, it was all him. With each crunch of a leaf under your show, another thought of him popped up

Toji. Toji. Toji.

Because I love you.

It was so easy for him to say it. He really must have not meant it at all, then and now.

So far, he had not spoken about his sudden disappearance, his marriage, his departure from the Zen’in clan or his newfound bounty hunter career yet. Why should you have to push it out of him? But like you thought before, you didn’t want to let him know how much you wanted the answers.

Or should you let him know why you wanted to know, too? You were still conflicted about that. It was risky to tell him that Gojo was planning on killing him in a few days, incase Toji retaliated and in turn, put Gojo in danger.

Of course, Gojo could protect himself, but it wasn’t right to let the person who gave you all of those updates on Toji to get hunted down.

You wondered how on earth you were meant to spend Toji’s last days. If these were even going to be Toji’s last.

What did Gojo mean, when he said “If you wanted to see him one last time. I’m not going too…outwardly say anything or give you any ideas on what you should do, say if reuniting with him goes well, but I’m sure you can think of something”?

Give you ideas about what?

Think of what?

It was all too complicated.

With each crunch of a leaf under your foot as you stepped, you didn’t realise how long you had been out for until you stopped for a breather and noticed it was getting grey. Since it was winter, there was only sun or daylight in the morning before it started to get dark, even during midday. You stood at a tree, taking a deep breath and expected to taste the cold air, but instead you were attacked by a coughing fit.

God. It was getting worse.

You headed back slowly, again wondering whether he’d still be there. Since you had left the house this time, he had an opportunity to get out. He could take all his clothes with him this time too and take it to…wherever he lived.

What was the deal with his marriage? Did things not go well with his wife anymore, and he decided to see if you wanted the rest of her scraps? Either way, you did not feel like committing adultery with him, especially if his new significant other was apart of the Zen’in clan.

You unlocked the door, shocked yet again to see Toji still there.

“There you are,” he said, with a breath - almost like relief, but you doubted it.

You cleared your throat, unwrapping your scarf from your neck - until you burst into more coughs. And then a sneeze. And then another.

“You got worse,” he faltered. Don’t. Don’t sound like you’re worried about me, you thought, as you took off your coat. You felt him walk up to your side, his tall figure looming and bending down to you slightly, in concern.

“I’m fine,” you muttered.

“Maybe you should sit down,” he suggested and you didn’t protest, sitting on the couch. He disappeared off somewhere, you didn’t really know. Maybe he was finally going home.

Until, a minute later, after you decided to sit cross-legged on the couch to help with your now aching limbs, you felt a blanket gently placed over your lap and shoulders.

Your head snapped up, too fast because it intensified your headache.

Toji remembered where the blankets were?

He must have known now that everything was in the same place as it was before, as if he was still living there.

You were pathetic.

“Why…” you started, with a hoarse voice.

“Where does it hurt?” he asked.

You looked back down, swallowing as your throat felt even more sore. Why was he looking after you? You should not be going along with this, but you felt too weak to protest. You didn't answer.

“I’ll make you some tea. Can you stomach any food? Do you want to go to the bedroom?” He was on the verge of doting on you like he used to. There was no sarcasm in his voice. Why was he being serious?

“I’ll…try,” you spoke, in a whisper. You hated how weak you sounded and it was also because of him, not just your illness.

“Let me help you up,” he said, reaching out to grab your arms as you stood.

You dodged his hand before he could. “I can go.”

But you instantly regretted that, as everything felt dizzy when you got up. The world was about to come crashing on the ground, your head spinning, until two warm and strong hands wrapped around both of your arms. His touch only made you feel dizzier.

Face-to-face with his chest, you were glad he wasn’t in that compression shirt anymore. Why on earth was he wearing that in the first place? It was extremely defined, skin-tight as each and every ab of his was outlined. Who else was he trying to attract?

“You okay?” he asked, steadying you. You kept your head down, because if you looked up into his eyes, you’d either faint or start crying. The raspiness in his voice paired with his gentle hold on you, like you were made out of glass, was already too much. “Here.”

He guided you into your room, which you honestly could have done yourself. You weren’t going to fall, nor were you that delicate. One of his large, warm hands flattened on your back. You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the dizziness slightly subside. His eyes pierced into your skin, but you were far too exhausted and it was only midday. Oh dear…

You shuffled back on the bed, to pull the duvets and get in. You really did not want to sleep but your body was telling you to shut down.

Toji was still staring down at you, as he observed your every breath.

“Do you want me to get something for you?”

“Toji,” you spoke, sounding even worse than you did a minute ago in the living room. “You should go home.”

He looked hurt for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing in conflict and you felt guilty.

“Home?”

Yes, because you made it clear this isn’t your home anymore.

“It’s not right for you to be here,” you muttered instead, your original thought sounding too dramatic.

“Where should I be?” he said.

You looked down at the blanket he covered you in and sat up from the pillow. You were tired of the nonchalant act. It wouldn't be this easy for you to run back into his arms, and you didn't know if he thought he could get away with it whilst you were ill.

"Go home to your wife," you spoke, in a whisper.

His eyes had slightly widened, not in shock, but as if he was trying to figure you out. “That’s not what you think it is.”

"Does it matter?" you asked. "I found out from someone other than you. Don't you know how awful that is?"

"I know," he said gently. "I know. I won't deny it."

"You are," you replied, voice raising in frustration, though it made you cough. "You've been denying it ever since you left, and ever since you didn't tell me you were leaving."

He let out a small breath at your words, and you didn't want to accept that he looked slightly pained - but he was easy for you to read. Well, not anymore.

"I can look after myself," you spoke, with a sniff as your nose got even more blocked.

"I'm not leaving you alone, not this time," he replied, shaking his head and folding his arms.

"So, it was fine all the other times?” You lightly coughed. "I had been ill before, when you left, and I was perfectly okay to look after myself."

"Well, I'm here now," he said, like it was final.

You scoffed and looked down. Somehow, he always found a way.

"I'll tell you everything once you get some rest,” he declared.

"I don't care about it," you stated, bluntly.

Gojo's words echoed in your brain yet again. "Maybe you can find out, even if you don’t care about him in that way anymore."

Perhaps it would be good to know, before he died, the answers you were actively looking for.

"Really, you don't?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. Your own rose too, confused as to why he had the audacity to challenge you, when he was the one who left and then showed up here out of the blue, but he didn't speak further on that. "I'll get you that tea."

Toji was at the apartment all day, navigating around it just like he did when he was there eight months ago. He made you endless cups of lemon and ginger tea, that he made sure you drank all of whilst it was hot. He cooked you a few small things that you tried to stomach; he could never cook complex things and this time it came in clutch.

As the day progressed into the evening, you got worse and worse. You were feverish, sweating but also freezing at the same time. Had the cold from walking home in the dark after working over time so much finally gotten to you? You didn't know, but you figured waking up in the middle of the night from your nightmare and reuniting with Toji also had something to do with it.

If you had told yourself a week ago that Toji was the one stalking you and would be taking care of you whilst you were sick, you'd laugh for the first time in forever. The whole thing felt like a lie, much like Toji's whole shtick. What did he want and when would you find out? You couldn't be easily manipulated after the pain you endured when he suddenly left.

Because I love you.

His earlier words made your body jolt as they jumpscared you in your own mind, losing the sleep you were about to drift off into. You sighed, though you had been asleep all evening, your body still felt exhausted from the illness and you wanted to pass out, maybe then you could ignore how Toji was the one who took care of you and was still sat in front of you. Magically, when you had woken up from your long evening nap, your body felt fresh and even moisturised. He hadn't...washed you up, had he?

"You alright?" his deep voice asked, probably seeing you jolt. Moonlight shone through the darkening room, outlining his silhouette still sat in front of you.

"Toji," you spoke, your voice congested and in need of water. "You've done too much."

You weren't saying it in a grateful way. You were...thankful, but you didn't know if you should be. If he deserved that. Frankly, he didn't need to look after or baby you. It was just a fever, everyone had gotten through it in their life at least once.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s for my own reasons.” You could hear his voice sounded even lower, detecting some tiredness in his voice. Why was he staying up, just to check on you? Especially still in that chair.

“Which are?” You asked.

“I wanted to look after you,” he stated.

“Why?” You couldn’t help but question.

“Because I wasn’t able to, all these months,” he answered.

You sighed, out of exhaustion and because you were tired of walking in circles for the same conversation yet again. Was he not hearing himself?

“Well, thank you for making room in your schedule,” you replied, not one bit short of deadpan sarcasm.

“Sweetheart, you know that isn’t what I meant.”

“Don’t call me that. And I know what you meant,” you start. You didn’t know if it was because he had seen you in one of the most vulnerable states with how ill you were, but you didn’t care about not wanting to argue or lash out anymore. You couldn’t keep beating around the bush any longer. “You have two perfectly working arms and legs. If you wanted to look after me, you could have done that ages ago.”

You were already conflicted enough with your feelings towards him. You were relieved to hear from Gojo that Toji was still alive, though even six months later, you were still derailing from the fact he was married. Yet, all your despair didn’t mean there wasn’t untapped anger, but sadness overhauled it - that was, until he showed up in the middle of the night and you had to mask any misery you felt.

Sadness did not equate to ease.

If he tried harder, it meant you could keep an eye on him. No straying outside, or going on any missions that would warrant Gojo finding him and killing him.

But that wouldn’t be enough, would it?

You were battling your feelings for him and the need to protect him.

He was about to reply to your previous words, until you cut in, “You said you’d tell me once I got rest.”

Though you immediately regretted it, since you just remembered you said you didn’t care when he said that hours ago. Luckily, he didn’t bring it up.

Perhaps these were the answers that would make you let him go. If Gojo defeated him and you could move on knowing you didn’t have to live in confusion about Toji anymore.

But you didn’t want that. Answers also didn’t equate to acceptance. You could not accept Toji dying, as well as him randomly disappearing.

Dying would also be an easy way out. He needed to spend an entire lifetime making it up to you, until you were satisfied.

“Sure,” he said quietly, sounding far too distant for someone like him, as he seemed to be in thought.

You wondered if he’d tell you everything, including his sorcerer-hunting job. You didn’t remind him to not miss anything out; you assumed he knew he shouldn’t leave anything at this point.

“As you know, I wasn’t in the Zen’in clan anymore, though I hadn’t officially left yet. One day, they tricked me back to the temple and…forced me to stay with the marriage. I know, it sounds ridiculous. How could I be forced to do anything?” he spoke, the pride and confidence leaving his voice as he explained the situation. “I didn’t know why they did it. Maybe because I was more powerful with zero cursed energy, more than their actual sorcerers. But they also knew about you, far too much somehow, and threatened that they’d hurt you. I couldn’t let anything happen to you and I believed they would do something because, when I was in there for the first time in forever, the memories just…made me freeze.”

Your afterthoughts back then were right. He was forced, as unbelievable and ironic as it was to be able to force someone like him into marriage, as a way to trap him in. The abuse endured throughout his childhood must have come rushing back when they lured him into the building, along with the thoughts of you getting tortured or worse, killed by them.

“It isn’t an excuse. I should have told you everything, including my plan. I couldn’t risk them finding out I was in contact with you, but it didn’t matter. I should have.” he added. You were glad the room had darkened even more, so he couldn’t see your pained expression, and you couldn’t see his.

“Your plan?” you asked.

“Well, the marriage lasted about a week. Nothing happened, not even formalities. I was planning everything out, to kill them.”

“What-you killed them?” you shrieked, shocked. You broke out into a fit of coughs. You didn’t even have a chance to be relieved at his pretty much nonexistent marriage with that info. This was the second time you heard of a specific case of Toji’s killings, and this time it was directly from his mouth. Had he slaughtered the entire Zen’in clan?

“Not all of them,” he said, like he could read your mind and cleared his throat so casually, as if you had accused him of not putting away the groceries instead. “Just the elders.”

Just the elders?

Was he crazy?

“I-I thought the clan had been around for…dozens of centuries,” you stutter, too shocked to raise your voice.

“Its heydays were the Heian era. All that is left is a few old people who are distant relatives from the original. They’re stuck in the past,” he spoke. This was the side of him you now feared and you assumed it was the side that killed those two girls, and defeated Gojo. How quickly he switched from the regretful, distanced boyfriend to the sorcerer killer.

You didn’t reply any longer, too stunned, and so he would continue.

“I knew I had to try something else. I divorced after that week, got rid of Zen’in from my name and this man Shiu Kong contacted me, somehow finding out about what I’d done to the Zen’in clan. He offered me to kill some other sorcerers, and then we kept going as partners. He gives me people and I do the job, as long as I get the money,” he explained. That part was briefer than you expected, and you almost sighed, knowing you’d have to press for answers. “I established myself as a sorcerer killer and no one came after me for what I’d done to the Zen’in clan. Either they knew they wouldn’t win, they couldn’t find me, or they just didn’t care.”

You felt like scoffing, but didn’t. Frankly, you were too shocked for reactions and didn’t want to give Toji the satisfaction, if that was what he was going for.

Whilst you were crying yourself to sleep every night, losing your entire personality and light from your eyes, overworking yourself to feel sane with distractions - he had “improved” his life by killing for a living?

“I’m glad your life was going so well,” you spoke, lowly.

“It wasn’t,” he immediately replied, with a sigh. “Of course, it wasn’t. Because I knew I couldn’t face you. I wanted to make things better, but I didn’t know how to tell you everything.”

“You can’t make things better if you’re murdering people for a living,” you replied, exasperated. What had he turned into, if he was so blindsided to not notice that? “Was that why you were following me?”

“Yes. I was following you because I was selfish. I wanted to see you.” And he couldn’t have just done that? Face-to-face? Much sooner? But alas, you did not respond yet again, tired of the circles you both ran in. “But sweetheart, they’re not good people I’m killing either.”

“Oh, really? What, and you are?” you rebutted. And was he seriously lying to you about those two innocent girls?

“It’s a job that needs to be done.”

If you had known he’d turned into this, then you wouldn’t have been so depressed. Actually, you probably would still have and that was your issue. Despite everything, you were still helplessly attracted to him and trying to save him.

“If I hadn’t caught you last night, would you have ever talked to me again?” Another question you regretted asking, but at this point, he had to have known how much he broke you - given your coldness towards him.

“I’m not sure,” he answered. “But I’m glad you did. For once, I don’t want to give up or run away.”

“From what?”

“From you,” he specified.

“You think it’s so easy,” you said.

“Of course not. After all, I’m being selfish. I’m selfish, because I love you. And I love you because I’m selfish.”

There was a beat of silence.

Why did he suddenly have such a way with words? He was never like this before.

“Whatever. And why are you still sat on that chair?”

As the night proceeded, you finally convinced Toji to get out - which was another way to tell him to sleep on the couch. The whole thing still felt surreal to you, that he was here, but you knew if you thought any longer, you’d feel even more ill. Drifting off to way more innocent thoughts about Toji than what he had just told you about his kills, and perhaps it was because you were selfishly relieved he wasn’t actually a married man, you fell into a deep sleep.

You shocked awake at the loud, piercing sound of your weekly alarm. Great, you were so ill yesterday, you forgot you had work the next day. At least the alarm and anxiety woke you up early enough so you actually had time to get ready. And luckily, you didn’t feel as terrible as yesterday, though you were still ill.

As you got ready, you did not want to know what was outside of your door. It was another gamble as to whether Toji had stayed or gone. If what he said yesterday was all a lie.

I’m selfish, because I love you. And I love you because I’m selfish.

He was full of shit.

Grabbing your bag, you opened the door and saw him sat up on the couch, probably awaiting you if he had heard you getting ready.

“You have work?” he questioned, standing up. “But how do you feel?”

You went to the kitchen, not knowing whether to ignore him. But since he had looked after you and was probably the reason why your fever had subsided to being ill overnight, it was the least you could do. “I still feel ill, but it’s bearable.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his tall frame immediately floating to your side as you filled up the teapot with water. “What if you get worse from going out?”

He voiced concerns over your health as if he had done that everyday. You didn't reply, deciding to just have breakfast at work. You did not want to be dealing with going back and forth with him this early on.

"You're going already? But don't you want to take medicat-"

Bag on your shoulder, you shut the door before you could hear him, and it seemed he knew better than to open the door and follow you.

The entire day was full of sneezing, coughing, sniffling, but luckily your body didn't feel as weak or dizzy as yesterday. Your throat had gotten worse over the day, which you tried to heal with multiple cups of hot drinks. You decided for once, not to stay overtime, for your own sake.

Standing when everyone else in the office had began to walk out, Nanami looked up from his computer in surprise. "Early day today?"

"I don't feel well enough to stay," you spoke, your voice hoarse. You felt slightly guilty, since you both were overtime buddies. "Sorry, Nanami."

Stray strands of blonde hair tapped against his forehead as he shook his head. "Don't be, it's best to look after yourself. Is...everything alright now?"

You knew what he was referring to. When Nanami walked you home and you saw Toji’s cursed spirit worm outside of your apartment. You didn't know what would happen to Toji after all of this, if Gojo would give up on finding him and instead, you and Toji would go your separate ways, and he'd stop following you.

"Yes, it's all fine," you replied gently.

After saying goodbye to Nanami, you exited the building. It felt weird to step out and see the sky a dark blue, rather than a pitch black, though it was beginning to darken into the night. The moon was already out too. The streets were busier, as it was the peak time for getting home, bustling with cars and people flocking from opposite work buildings.

You were about to head away from your workplace, until you paused at multiple women giggling and whispering to each other, staring ahead. Your head turned in the sane direction. What was...

That couldn't be?

Toji stood in front of a large motorbike, arms folded and wearing different clothes of his that he must have found himself, right in front of your workplace. The bike was parked at the edge of the pathway.

Women whispered and fawned at him as they stepped out of your building. The street lamps shone onto his structured face and broad shoulders.

it looked like a monsterous contraption behind him, suiting someone of his size. Was this what he could afford now? Unless he stole it, you wouldn't put that past him.

Ignoring the part of you that was tempted to just walk away, and also ignroing the race of your heart speeding up at the sight of him, you went straight up to him.

"What are you doing here?" you asked.

His hair blew in the evening's wind, as did his shirt, making him look even more glorious. The expression on his face was unreadable, as if he was contemplating something. "To pick you up."

"Why?" you couldn't help but ask.

He paused. Would he stop looking at you like that? "Listen to you. Your throat has gotten worse."

"I can walk."

"And let the cold make you feverish like yesterday?"

Before you could reply, not knowing what with, he turned and handed you a helmet. "Here."

He gave you full view of the tall, shiny bike. You'd never been on a motorcycle before, and this one looked far too big. Was it even safe? And since when did he get a motorbike license? You wouldn't be surprised if he was driving around illegally. Would being on the bike even make a difference from if you walked anyway? You'd still be in the cold air, just at a faster speed.

You slipped the helmet over your head anyway, as he did the same, not feeling like walking home, or arguing outside of your workplace. He moved out of the way, as he secured his helmet.

"Are you okay with getting on?" he asked.

You rolled your eyes behind the helmet, before lifting the visor. Did he think you were so helpless in your state, or was it the size of the bike, or both? You made sure your bag was secure around your shoulder, before stepping to the side of the bike, holding onto the seat for leverage and carefully swinging your legs over, which you had to stand on your toes for. You sensed him watching you carefully, as he stood far too close.

You sat far back enough that when he got onto the front of the bike, there was a gap between you both. He turned his head to assess it.

"You're gonna have to get a lot closer than that, if you want to survive."

Was he trying to scare you? And what kind of driver was he?

Begrudgingly, you shuffled closer, so most of your view was his back. He reached behind, taking one of your arms and wrapping it around him. You froze at the contact, as your arm didn't tighten. "Put the other around me."

You hesitantly wrapped your other arm around him, closer and tighter this time, as you heart fluttered in anxiety from the sheer idea of riding on the motorbike. You also hated how his abs felt like steel against your hands, or how warm he was despite wearing only a shortsleeve shirt in the winter.

You'd have to show him that his coats were in the same place as before too. What was he thinking, going out in the cold evening in just a top? Either he wanted to get ill next and have you look after him as payback, or he wanted the attention from all those women.

What were you thinking...

Grappling with how you worried about him without realising, he snapped you out of your thoughts. "Lean your head on me."

This had to be another one of his selfish reasons. You had seen in movies where the main character wrapped themselves around the love interest on the back of their motorbike, but surely resting your head against him wasn't apart of the protocol.

You didn't do it, seeing as having your arms around him was already enough. He turned back and started the engine, the gas pushing you both away from the pavement and onto the road.

At his speed, you let out a small gasp that you hoped he didn't hear. Somehow, you shifted even closer, arms tighter, grasping around him. Your head had no choice but to rest against his huge shoulder, that was bigger than your whole face, as you turned and watched the world quickly pass.

Shutting your eyes for each corner he turned and gripping tighter around him, Toji drove quickly, but not recklessly. The wind whipped your body, airing in cold oxygen through the helmet. It was even harder to breathe with the speed; it must've taken some getting used to. You tried to focus on all the cars he passed, all the traffic he overtook between the gaps, and the people crowding the streets.

Finally, he slowed as he turned into your neighbourhood, coming to a stop outside of your apartment complex. You felt like you could breath properly again, not because you took the helmet off, but because you released your arms from around him and lifted your head from his still-warm shoulder. You could smell his scent, the one you searched for every night in your sheets, even more strongly when he came to a stop.

You hopped off of the bike, scared you'd break your leg on the way down but it was fine. How humiliating, had you seriously clung to him like a koala? But if you didn't, you'd have probably lost your life!

"Are you okay?" he asked.

You nodded, pushing your hair out of your eyes. You both went into the building and you hated how routinely this was beginning to feel.

You already wasted two of his last days up and they felt like nothing, even if he had told you a brief explanation of what happened when he left. How were you meant to make this progress, so you could protect him from Gojo coming after him?

Stepping into your apartment, he followed behind you and shut the door. Warmth engulfed you in, as well as the scent of food. Your eyes looked in the direction of the kitchen and back to him.

“I made you some soup,” he declared.

“Oh,” you responded, slightly surprised. Was it from scratch? You used to think he had a fear of cooking semi-complicated things that required a recipe.

He was trying to win you over, because you were ill. Pouncing whilst you were most vulnerable and manipulating you with food.

It was hard not to think the worse.

“Why don’t you wash up and I’ll have it ready for you?” he said. Why was he playing the dutiful househusband? Maybe he needed somewhere to stay whilst he continued his unconventional…career.

You didn’t respond, feeling conflicted and also too exhausted from work to continue. It seemed to be convenient for him these days to do what he felt like, when you were too ill and tired to protest. You got in the shower, pressing your head against the wall as the steaming hot water burned at your skin, but you barely felt it with the cold waves of thoughts in your own mind.

The worst part was, you weren’t just still upset at Toji for everything he did to you, or that he could have easily told you everything that was going on with him and the Zen’in clan eight months ago - you were also fawning over him.

You shut your eyes, too annoyed with yourself for letting him get to you this much. When he was constantly around and doting on you, his scent was everywhere - just like it was before, as if he never left. He’d always check your temperature with his hands, since you didn’t have a thermometer around, touching your forehead or cheek with the back of his hands. He was so warm, all the time, that you wondered if he himself had a fever. Either that, or he was a werewolf, that was what you wondered when your body and arms were pressed against him on his motorbike.

His body was something you had to physically hit yourself to stop thinking about, but it was impossible when you felt how more defined and harder his abs were. His chest was probably even harder, just like his broad shoulders. Though his waist was ridiculously tiny, you wondered what the exact measurement was.

And that face. Those eyes that you were used to seeing with a sly yet focused glint in them, but they seemed to look more timid ever since he came back. His mouth that curved up into a smirk, or pursed when he was in thought. Every edge, line and curve of his face was an artwork, and you hated it.

You lifted your head from the shower wall, letting the water directly hit you in the face.

You were so fucked.

After you were out of the shower and changed into warm pyjamas, you stepped out of your room and didn’t expect Toji to have set up a steaming bowl of soup on the table, with bread rolls. Since when did you even have bread rolls in the house? Or the correct ingredients for soup? Unless he went and bought it himself…

You didn’t know how to react. It wasn’t the kindest to be act mad when he was doing nice things for you, but you were just falling into the trap.

It was good if he was keeping himself busy by trying to make it up to you; that way he’d be away from anything to do with bounty hunting, for the moment.

You sat at the table, looking down at the soup in confusion. Your stomach grumbled at the sight of vegetables and steaming orange broth, garnished with what looked like coriander. It looked so good. He made this?

“How do you feel after the shower?” he asked, slightly leaning against the table.

“Better,” you answered, which was an understatement. You felt significantly better, the hot water seemed to have unblocked your nose, though your throat could do with the hot soup in front of you. Yet, you were still hesitating. If you took this bite, you were surrendering.

Oh, who were you kidding? He had given you food and tea multiple times whilst you were ill.

You slid a spoonful of the soup in your mouth, the flavour delighting your tongue. It wasn’t too salty, and it was spicy - which would be good for your throat.

Eyes blinking up to Toji, you ignored what looked like a relieved expression after you took the spoonful and said, “Aren’t you eating?”

His eyebrows furrowed for a moment, before joining you without a word. You were glad he wasn’t saying much, nor were you. It was as if he knew he had to walk on eggshells, since you seemed to be giving his kindness a chance.

After eating in silence, you were about to wash the dishes until he took them, turning around and facing away from you with broad shoulders, beginning to wash up. You watched his back, that you were sure he could tell you were staring at.

It wasn’t enough.

Him being here wasn’t enough, you realised.

You didn’t know if the delirium from being ill had caught up to you, even if you weren’t as ill anymore, but you remembered Gojo’s words yet again.

I’m not going too…outwardly say anything or give you any ideas on what you should do, say if reuniting with him goes well, but I’m sure you can think of something.

What did he mean by that?

From what Gojo had told you about the higher-ups in Jujutsu High, it seemed he just did the duties given to him, even if he was a bit rebellious in their eyes. Of course, Gojo must have rightfully held a grudge against Toji, considering they’d fought twice and Toji had defeated him the second time. But with his help to you, along with those words, it seemed he didn’t want to kill Toji for your sake only.

You weren’t 100% sure if what popped up into your head was what Gojo meant, but you figured you’d give it a go anyway. You were already going crazy enough.

Your eyes pierced into his back, his hair, his neck, his waist. If you saw those eyes of his, you weren’t sure you’d be able to get your next words out.

“I want to go on vacation,” you said quietly.

Toji turned his head at the sound of your meek words. He turned off the tap. “Hm?”

“I want to go on vacation,” you spoke, louder this time.

There was a pause, because of course there was - he wasn’t expecting you to say something so random.

“By yourself?” he asked.

“Together.”

Ridiculous.

Impulsive.

You hadn’t seen him for eight months, which was his fault, and as soon as he waltzed right back, you went on vacation together?

Well, to him, that was probably how it looked, like you had no backbone. Almost. Not exactly, with how off you acted.

Everything was to protect him. Maybe if you stayed outside of the country, it would’d made it difficult for Gojo to track Toji. Though, Gojo could just get on a flight, but you figured there had to be different regulations on using sorcery in another country. Plus, it helped that Toji had gotten rid of his last name too.

That was what you kept telling yourself, even when you had gotten off the plane and were greeted with warmer air than the usual, chilling winter. You were still getting over your sickness, that you thought would worsen on the flight, but perhaps the weather here would help.

You had no idea how you managed to get the week off of work. When you had told Nanami you were going on vacation, he said he was jealous, since he wanted to go to Malaysia. You hoped he could, at least one of you would be going on holiday out of your own will.

Toji had paid for everything. Actually, he had gone and booked the flights and hotel all by himself without asking you anymore details, aside from where you wanted to go. You asked why so many times and that you could pay, but all he said was that he wanted to do it. It made sense that killing people for a living, especially sorcerers, must have paid a disgusting amount of money that he never had before.

You had to admit, he made the entire process so much easier.

You were silent throughout the whole journey, which in turn, meant that he was too. You were clearly in thought, but he must of been wondering why on earth you wanted to go together.

Truth was, this whole situation made you feel like crying. But you surprisingly hadn’t cried since the first night you caught him in the apartment, perhaps that was why you needed to let it all out.

You felt you had cried enough tears about Toji disappearing. Now tears threatened to fall about how Toji could be gone for good, and this vacation wasn’t exactly a guaranteed way of preventing it. For all you knew, Jujutsu High had people here too, that could easily come after Toji.

But would they be any match for him? Gojo and Toji were each other’s match.

The hotel was five star-rated, situated on a beach with a view that was also tear-worthy. Even in the evening, the sun was visible through your window. After you both had decided to just order room service, you declared you’d be going on a walk.

Toji offered to come, but you declined, though you felt guilty. You knew that he knew something was up, and you were just waiting for him to ask you about it. Where was the straightforward and smug Toji? Why was this one so patient yet hesitant? You didn’t know which you preferred.

It was the evening, meaning the beach wasn’t scattered with people, but the hotel didn’t seem to be in a busy area either. Either that or it was too expensive of a place. The shore stretched along for miles, as did the calm, buoyant waves. Your eyes squinted as the sun shone directly onto your face - you made sure to apply sunscreen before leaving the hotel - which reminded you that at home, it would’ve begun to get dark. In a flowing outfit, you almost felt free as the warm air seeped to your body, but your thoughts tied you down, far deeper than if you were down in the ocean you walked alongside.

The more the sun blazed into you, the more wind there was, nipping a nice chill along your arms. Sand gushed into your sandals, but it was a nice sensation for once, almost like a massage. Each watery sound of wave helped ease your mind, though it could never be enough.

What the hell were you thinking? Toji was a bad person, and you were too nice for your own good. After you thought your boyfriend had fallen off the face of the earth, he’d gone and murdered too many. It didn’t matter if they were from the Zen’in clan, evil sorcerers, or innocent non-sorcerers. They were all human and it seemed he didn’t hesitate in pulling the trigger.

Yet here you were. Across the world, in a different country, protecting him when you were still mad at him. So, really, it didn’t look like you were mad at all.

Rubbing your forehead, you wondering why you had gotten yourself into this mess.

Because you were desperate.

“You alright?” the deep voice that was haunting you asked.

You turned and there he was, in all his glory. He wore a button-up shirt and shorts, his tan legs toned and muscular. There wasn’t a single part of him out of shape. The sun shone onto the high-points of his face, giving him a natural glow. He looked even more alive, which you didn’t know was possible.

Right. You forgot you didn’t tell him not to follow you. Did you have to do that every time?

You turned back around, continuing to walk as you didn’t respond. It made you tense, that he was following behind, expecting a conversation - but as always, you didn’t know what to say when you were faced with him.

All these months, you’d yearned and cried over his absence, losing the light in your eyes and spirit in your voice, and your smile was nonexistent. Yet, you hadn’t thought much about what you’d say if he’d come back - you were convinced he was gone for good.

Stress filled your mind and you didn’t know why. He was only a person, despite his enemies thinking differently. Not a curse, creature or sorcerer. Underneath his arrogant belligerence, was an arrogant lover.

“Hey,” he spoke, appearing next to you now. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, but remained silent. He could see through you. Should you tell him?

“Come on, you seem stressed. Is it me?” he asked.

Of course it is.

The wind blew harshly, throwing the front strands of hair into your eyes and covering your view of the shore. You stopped, pushing it away.

“It’s cold out here. Do you want to go back?” he asked.

You shook your head again, continuing to walk.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. You’re upset.”

You sighed to yourself. When would he stop? Or get the hint that you wanted to be alone?

Of course he wouldn’t get the hint, you brought him here!

“I thought you wanted to spend time together.”

Those were the words that made you pause. You turned around slowly and looked up at him in disbelief. “Spend…time together?”

It only made sense.

His own black hair blew in his eyes too, but he didn’t push it out of the way, making him look like a movie star in front of the sun. The empty beach felt more tense than calming now, as intent and conflict settled in his expression.

“I’m sorry I brought you here,” you spoke, closing your eyes for a few seconds. “I’ll pay you back the money.”

His eyebrows contorted. “Sorry? Why are you sorry? And you’re not paying me back anything.”

“Then, you can enjoy your time without me.”

“Why would I do that?” He leaned down slightly, inspecting you. His tone of brewing anger only made your heart flutter in anxiety even more. When you didn’t respond, he added, “I’m here with you. For you.”

It only made you more annoyed, at both yourself and him.

“This isn’t a couple’s holiday,” you remarked.

It was his turn to scoff. “I feel like even you know that’s not true.”

Because it wasn’t. Well, partly.

“You’re being delusional,” you shot back. You kept walking ahead, but he didn’t follow you this tome.

“I thought you were giving me a chance,” he spoke, louder for you to hear. You stopped in your tracks again, turning around.

Stop. Stop letting him provoke you.

“A chance?” you questioned, almost in shock at the absurdity. “Are you honestly that clueless?”

You had to ask, because there was no way.

“You’ve been giving me a chance ever since you were ill.”

The sheer confidence in his voice wanted to make you scream.

“You gave me no choice. It wasn’t a chance, it was compliance,” you spat. You swallowed the bile in your throat, trying to convince your brain it was the sea water, so you wouldn’t burst into tears in front of him. “Even before I caught you in the apartment, you were stalking me. And when I did, you spoke and acted as if nothing happened, like we were back to eight months ago when everything was normal. You’re not even sorry.”

You also saw his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, as his expression hardened. “Of course, I’m sorry. That’s what I’m trying to prove to you.”

“No, Toji. You’re not. I’m nothing but an afterthought to you,” you argued, your breathing speeding up. You let out an exhale, before quietly speaking, “I’m nothing.”

Your heart raced, breath hitched, eyes beginning to feel heavy.

Please, no…

No tears. Not in front of him.

You hated how his eyes widened gently, as if it was his heart breaking instead of yours. “How can you say that?”

“Can you blame me?” you replied, your heart thumping so hard you couldn’t even breathe. You turned back around, giving him your back, for what felt like the thousandth time. “I…I hate you.”

You knew it was a mistake, from his silence. Even the waves had muted.

Your eyes stung. And blurred.

Oh, no, no, no.

“Then hate me,” he replied, coldly. “Hate me forever. Because I’ll always love you. You were patient for me and I betrayed you. You can do it to me too.”

You didn’t turn at his words, instead you looked down at the sand, trying to get the tears to dry without bringing your hand up to your eyes, or it would make it obvious.

“Stop saying that. It’s easier for you,” you muttered, folding your arms. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have left.”

“I know. I know, sweetheart. I know you won’t believe me when I say this, but I never stopped loving you. Nor did I ever not resent myself for leaving.”

Then why did you?

“Look at me.”

You didn’t listen to his command, staying faced away with your eyes down. You were glad the tears had not fell down your face yet, but if he kept speaking, they’d burst out.

“If you hated me, we wouldn’t have come here together. You wouldn’t have let me let me look after you, or sleep at the apartment, or keep my clothes in the same exact place,” he remarked.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

“But there’s something else, isn’t there? Something in those sad eyes of yours, beyond your love and patience for me. Tell me.”

You sniffed gently, glad it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear. But he could tell you were crying, even if he couldn’t hear or see it.

“Face me.”

The tears rolled down your cheeks now, the salty taste hitting your tongue sharper than sea water would.

You slowly turned, looking up as your eyes shone with water. Was this what he wanted? To see you destroyed. He’d feed off of the fact that you longed for him.

Instead, his eyes softened and stepped closer, as he searched between your teary eyes.

You only took a step back. “Don’t…come any closer.”

“Baby,” he spoke, softly. It only made your lips tremble, as you fought back a sob. “Please don’t cry. Talk to me. Please.”

You shook your head, eyes shutting as more tears fell.

“I can’t,” you whimpered.

“Why?” he asked.

“You’ll just leave again.”

You heard him come closer, completely ignoring your words to stay back. “Why would I do that?”

“Anything can make you leave. I’m used to it,” you breathed, trying to make your heartbeat steady, though it only quickened with each tear.

“I didn’t leave because of you. Why would you think that?” he asked gently. You hated this. His tentative tone made you seem more vulnerable, but you wanted the real him. The Toji that only chose himself. “I made you think all sorts of things, didn’t I?”

You slowly nodded, not trusting your words and averting your eyes.

A few seconds later, you felt a palm on your face, wiping tears from one of your cheeks. The warm, gentle contact made you tremble and shiver, as more and more tears fell.

You finally let out a sob and that was all it took to set you off, and for his arms to wrap around you.

Your head buried into his chest harshly. You were right, it was also made of steel, but it made a good cushion to sob into.

Pathetic.

This was pathetic.

A hand slowly stroked your hair, over and over again. It was calming, but the sheer action made you more emotional.

Curse him.

“It’s okay,” his deep voice rumbled, feeling it against his chest.

Why? Why were you showing him just how much he affected you, all these months? How weak you were?

You nuzzled your head into where his heart was, just like you did to the sheets when you searched for his scent, surprised to feel it beating as rapid as yours. The earthy scent of the beach was lost when all you could smell was his musky, manly cologne.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, moving one of his arms around your waist, as the other stroked your head. “I’ve broken you.”

At least he was right for once. But you couldn’t tell what was real or fake.

You pulled back, sniffling. You probably looked dreadful, with red eyes, tears streaming down your face and puffy skin.

“Promise me. That you won’t do anything, when I tell you,” you whispered. “And that you’ll stop bounty hunting.”

His eyes softened as they skimmed down your face, and nodded gently. “I promise you. I swear, I’ll stop and I won’t do anything.”

You let out a breath, not even knowing whether to trust that. Here goes nothing.

“I found out about everything, that you got married, you left the Zen’in clan and became a sorcerer hunter from…from Gojo Satoru,” you replied quietly. His eyebrows rose, though he didn’t look angry, more confused. He was probably surprised Gojo was still alive. “I asked him. I found out about…how you defeated him, after you murdered the two girls he had to protect. And he told me that…I should see you one last time before he had to kill you.”

He blinked slowly, as he processed your words. He didn’t seem too shocked; he seemed to have understood quickly, including why Gojo had to come after him. “Is that why…you brought me here?”

You nodded, looking away.

“You protected me.”

You closed your eyes again. So, he thought that too? He wasn’t wrong. But he wasn’t going to rub it in your face, was he?

“Despite everything, you still protected me,” he confirmed, in revelation. It seemed like he was speaking to himself and wasn’t taunting you.

You couldn’t deny it this time. Because he knew the truth and even he was baffled.

It wasn’t the reaction you expected, for him to pay more attention to you than a fight with Gojo, who he presumed was dead. But Toji was smart, and you were glad. Perhaps he noticed that Gojo’s help was what made you still attached to Toji.

“Why didn’t you just let him find me?” he questioned.

There was no pride in his voice. He wasn’t expecting another victorious fight with Gojo if Toji had stayed in Tokyo - but instead, he accepted his death.

You didn’t respond. And that seemed to tell him all he needed to know.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. For getting so caught up in a life that isn’t meant for me, that I neglected you,” he responded. “I roped you into this world of jujutsu sorcery ever since I first laid eyes on you.”

He was a bad person and he needed to be punished. He was a murderer. And you were just as bad for helping him escape punishment.

“It was me. I’m the one who couldn’t let you go,” you finally whispered, sniffling as the tears began to slow, though your eyes were still foggy with them. “Even when I thought you moved on from me.”

“Was that because of the marriage?”

You nodded gently. “Your life seemed..better when I wasn’t in it, like it fell into place. Regardless of the marriage or not.”

“That’s not true at all. You are my life. I’ve made so many mistakes, but the biggest one was leaving you without explanation,” he replied. “I’m sorry for acting like everything was fine.“

You sighed, looking down as his hands still remained around you. You hated yourself for not moving, but when he was all over you like this, it physically felt like things were the same as they used to be between you.

You even felt selfish for being angry at him for leaving, when that wasn’t the worst problem here - it was the killing.

“Aren’t you hearing yourself, Toji? The biggest mistake is those lives you took,” you spoke, shakily. “Even if they’re not humane.”

“Not everyone deserves a second chance.”

“But you do?” you replied, though your voice was weak. He stayed silent, his eyes searching yours.

After a pause, he opened his mouth. “You’re good. Better than me. Of course, you are. Better than anyone I’ve ever met. I’ll do anything you want me to, if you can accept me again.”

“I want you to repent, Toji. For everything. And not to be a sorcerer killer anymore.”

He let out a breath and nodded. “I promise you, I’ll do this for you.”

That was it. You didn’t want it to just be for you.

“Please don’t cry anymore. It’s up to you what we should do. Do you want to go back home?”

“No,” you immediately spoke. “Please…I’m worried.”

You didn’t trust him that much, that he wouldn’t go and fight Gojo. Plus, you doubted Gojo would hunt him down here. From Gojo’s previous words, was he was basically suggesting you run away with Toji, even if it was temporarily? After all, it was the higher-ups that required Gojo to kill Toji.

“Okay,” he simply said, nodding. Why was he being so understanding? Did he just feel sorry for you? “Let’s just enjoy our vacation here.”

That would be difficult. Maybe the scenery and location would make it slightly easier.

You slowly shook your head, feeling the wet tears on your eyelashes are they began to dry. “I’m still not talking to you.”

“I understand,” he replied, quietly.

“Even when we get back, I’m not talking to you,” you added.

This time, the side of his mouth turned up, in a gentle smile. What was his deal? “I understand that too.”

“I expect you to look at other careers as soon as we get back,” you added again, which only made him laugh gently. Your eyebrows rose in confusion at what could possibly be so funny?

“I’ll look forward to it. Maybe we should move. Have a fresh start,” he suggested, his brown eyes practically twinkling as his expression was lighter. He looked like a prince in the sunlight of the beach and of course, you hated it.

“You mean, I’ll move?” you corrected. He was getting too ahead of himself.

─ · · The carriage continued down the road and into a neighbouring region. You were shocked to see various members of the local guard awaiting your presence and helping you out of the carriage before leading you towards their parliament buildings. To your equal shock people waved and smiled once seeing you, what the hell did Jayce do now? You ask yourself standing in front of the prime ministers desk. "We have been expecting your arrival Miss (last/name). Councillor Talis had informed us..." you zoned out for the rest of his speech nodding along until Ximena Talis squeezed your hand, bringing you back to reality, "...we have a few professors and scholars in the area that would love to work with you if you are interested Miss?"

You smile and nod, "I would love to take that opportunity, thank you." An assistant suddenly comes in running, "this way, ma'am," they lead out of the office and back out onto the street, pointing you in the direction of the university before the parliament doors shut behind you and seemingly on your old life.

─────── · ·

─ · · In the next coming days that turned into weeks you worked alongside Evren, a professor and active researcher at the local university as his new lab and teaching assistant. It felt great to meet new people, be back in the lab space, and to see all of Evren's students, you loved your new position getting to work with the next generation of scientists and develop their skills yet it always surprised you how excited they were to talk with and learn from you.

─ · · You could scoff remembering your first day sitting in Evrens' office as he walked you through the learning material and basic questions students commonly asked that you could filter for him. You were beyond anxious to mess something up or to have a hoard of students calling after you yet Evren only taught the upper years and from having such small classes he really only needed you to grade work and developing new material with him.

─ · · Evren always made sure you were comfortable and confident before leaving you with the students or in the lab when he had to take a step away. He even helped you to move in to your's and Xiema's new apartment and bought a wine bottle for you all to share while building furniture (class was cancelled that next morning as you all stayed up way too late laughing and sharing stories).

"Do you know I was married for a year?" he asks you, cheeks flushed red from the booze in his system as he fixed his glasses- an anxious tick. "No way, really?" you asked, leaning forwards in your seat with wide eyes as Xiema scoffed mentioning she was heading to bed as you two waved her goodbye for the night. "Yeah, high school sweetheart turned out not so... sweet. Stole all my work and designs I had yet to publish."

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Evren," you say, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he shrugs, fixing his curly brown hair. "Well," he begins in a matter-of-factly tone, "I actually thanked her for doing so since I came up with a better idea the next week." You throw your head back laughing as his dry commentary, your heart racing remembering how Viktor used to talk to you like this. You face soon falls remembering the man Viktor connected himself to... Jayce.

"Hey, everything alright?" Evren's face falls, green eyes looking into yours with concern as you pull away and look distantly through the window. "Just... remembering past things," you try and move conversation, feeling anger, pain, and sadness starting to boil underneath your skin the more you think about it. "Favourite book?" Evren asks into the dead air as you look at him with relief for not asking any further questions- he seems to silently understand what you were going through internally and you were thankful for it.

"Asking all the hard questions aren't you now," you tease before burying yourself into the blankets on the couch as he throws you a pillow, "don't fall asleep on me now-" Evren begins to say seeing you ready to doze off. A wave of deja vu flashes over you and see Jayce's eyes looking into your own before blinking them away to see green again. Evren now looks exceptionally concerned, "I wasn't going to press earlier but I am worried about you, friend."

You smile at the term, something you both established at the beginning as many of the students "shipped" you two together. "I just hate that I miss him. Hate that I always check the death lists coming from Piltover- wait to see his name as they study corpse after corpse. I just feel disgusted with myself for..." you fail to continue your sentence, confused as to what to say next.

The thought of Jayce Talis made your heart race and equally ache, he made your blood boil and yet when you flipped through one of the few journals you packed, you broke down at the messages and jokes he wrote to you in the margins, you couldn't help but cry for everything you had lost. You swore to see him sometimes between the ailes of bookshelves in the library, at the market, or out of the corner of your eye. But when you would walk closer, you would either just walk right through the mist of him or just blink him away like another fleeting thought.

You were bitter towards that fact as you regretted your final moments together. You knew your feelings were in the right but looking back, you would have made the same choices that Jayce did. Trying to play into that fantasy future you both could have had for as long as possible... knowing the inevitable. Giving yourself that peace to enjoy every moment no matter how short as if nothing could come in between you both. It pained you with want just pleading with your past self to step back into that council room and just hold him, go against your pain and your anger and just have lived a little moment longer.

Evren holds out his hand and seeing that you don't take it he gently flicks the side of your head, "It's okay to be frustrated. You hate them because you loved them once, nothings wrong with working through emotions at our own pace."

"Thank you Evren... I really needed to hear that," you respond, closing your heavy eyes. "Goodnight, (name)," he whispers before you hear the door lock closed behind you for the night.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your daily schedule continued as it usually did yet today felt different and the title of todays paper only concerted that, 'councillors working together to build stronger cities'. Piltover and Zaun were combining resources to rebuild- your heart ached remembering this is what Viktor and Jayce worked so hard towards... and now they wouldn't be able to see their vision finally coming to life. Near the end of the newspaper it noted that the final list of the deceased would be out by the end of the week, and still not sights on the name Jayce Talis.

─ · · You stumbled into Evrens office later that day holding coffees for you both as you apologized for being late, the shock of the headlines still ringing through your head, "shit sorry I'm late, did you get a chance to read the news yet- its crazy I never thought this day would..." you slowly stop talking once not hearing Evren respond, hanging up your jacket over his as he stares at you, leaning against a windowsill with an apologetic look on his face before walking over and pulling you in for small hug.

You pat his back, "bad day already?" you mumble with a slight groan not looking forwards to it. You feel Evren shake his head before another voice clears their throat from behind you both. You feel as Evren jumps in your arms before he pulls away and grips your shoulders, forcing you not to look just yet. "I promise you that I had no idea, if I had I would have screened you first and this was not my choice and-"

You take a deep breath before looking over and your heart drops seeing... "Jayce?" sitting behind Evrens desk glaring at the other mans hold on you before catching your eyes and smiling anxiously. You can feel the world slow, your vision tunnelling to his smile and the shake in his hands he tries to hide by holding them together. Blinking away tears, as he slowly nods and stands, you hold out your hand, silently asking him to stay in his spot. "Am I seeing things, Ev?" you ask in a small voice, unsure.

Evren takes his time to respond, "that is Councillor Talis," he confirms before starting to move out of the room to give you both space yet you reach out and grip his hand for support. You look at Evren, "thank you, I'll be in lecture soon." He nods, giving your hand a squeeze and shuts the door softly behind himself.

"I know you must be confused but please allow me to explain-" Jayce begins before you cut him off with a heated glare. "No, Councillor Talis. You will fucking listen to me when I say you shouldn't be here after what you did to me. You said you were going to die, going to leave me, and yet you have the audacity to stand before me and plead?" You watch as Jayce's expression falls, his shoulders dropping as his head lowers apologetically, shuffling on the spot as if you kicked a puppy- your heart aches and you only become more frustrated.

"No Councillor you don't deserve to be moping around after the utter shit you pulled trying to play hero. I won't thank you, won't get on my knees and worship you- no. Do you understand how many nights I held myself sobbing to sleep, thought to see you- to hear you, desperate to feel you?" you are vibrating with anger, electricity flowing through your veins power by the passion in your heart.

"I do understand," Jayce's tone is firm, a warning to your heart for what is to come. You watch as he walks over and stands before you, his head tilting down and cocking to the side as he looks over your features distantly with dark eyes- you hate yourself for blushing.

"When I got stuck in the rune, I was forced to see your dead body before you consumed my every. waking. thought. It was your voice that called me back to you, that allowed me not to feel the pain in my leg, the ache in my ribs from starving. The thought of your touch against my body propelled by every step. I didn't stop- wouldn't stop until I knew you were safe... and you know what happened afterwards," Jayce allows a smirk to form across his features once seeing you subconsciously bite the inside of your cheek before taking a few steps back as you let out a breath you didn't know to be holding.

You walk after him as Jayce moves to leave against the desk. You stand in front of him before slapping him straight across the face. Jayce flexes his jaw, licking away the taste of iron building in his mouth. He looks back at you with wide, remorseful eyes and press lips- your blood boils, "I fucking hate your face."

"Mhmm?" Jayce hums, imploring you to continue getting your anger out. You take a step closer, standing in between his legs as you grip the lapels to his coat, knuckles turning white, "I hate that I'll always listen to everything you say and desire your touch. Hate that I still care about you, that I still want you. I hate myself! Hate my weak heart and yet I still let you have it- I fucking hate that I can't move on. Can't function a day without thinking to see you. I HATE YOU- hate that I love you, Jayce!" You punch and sob into his chest, utterly tried and longing for him to comfort you in a way no one else could as large warm palms hold you closely and tightly to his chest.

His beard tickles the top of your head, ruining your styled hair and yet you can't find it in yourself to care about anything. You feel sick with yourself for almost moaning when he kisses the side of your head and hums his apologies into your hear. You are embarrassed with yourself as you shake your face into the crook of his neck.

"I'll do anything for you to be mine again... and if you can't accept that just yet or even ever... I just want to be someone to you- just not strangers, never strangers... please," Jayce begs, squeeze your hips once feeling you starting to pull away but letting go once seeing your puffy eyes mirroring his own.

"I would say yes to everything now, Jayce. But I know that wouldn't be good for either of us knowing what happened last time," you explain as Jayce lowers his head into a nod, "I love you," he speaks softly.

"I know, I know," you respond, taking a deep breath before picking up your notes and learning material, "and thats why you are going to leave me alone for awhile... just so we both can sort though ourselves and come back with clearer minds." Jayce chuckles a little, "what part of me do you need a clearer image on, sweetheart?" he teases watching as you groan and huff your way to the door.

"Goodbye, Jayce," you twist open the doorknob only to feel a hand on your shoulder, holding your movements, "not goodbye- never again," Jayce says while looking into your eyes sternly. You raise your chin, "of course.... see you later then?" you try and say yet it comes out more like a question. Jayce smiles, your heart skips a beat, "better, see you later," he leans forwards to kiss you but ends up kiss air as you flee down the hallway smiling to yourself. Jayce sighs, watching as you turn down the hall and out of sight, back to square one.

─────── · ·

─ · · You feel bad that Evren paused the class as soon as you appeared, checking over your face and telling you to spin three times to ensure you were a-okay. The rest of the students fell into a hysteria and all you wanted was for his lesson to continue and for life to move on. "I'll beat of that councillor if you need me to miss!" "Would you ever consider going back?" "If he were ugly he wouldn't have gotten away with all of the shit he pulled!"

"Silence!" Evren ordered as everyone fell back into their seats and reopened their journals, you looked towards your friend with thanks, seating yourself beside him as you finished marking the papers before you, inputting the grades into your tables to help take your mind away. The class went by more quickly than you thought once zoning out, "how about a nice long lunch break this afternoon?" Evren asks, holding out your coat with a smile.

"Is coffee included?" you ask, offering a small smile watching as his grows, "of course it is."

─────── · ·

─ · · "So tell me, am I going to have to hire another assistant?" Evren asks, stirring the sugar in his coffee while watching your expression tick with annoyance. "I'm not jumping his bones as soon as I see him, at least not again after thinking him to be dead." Evren kicks his feet in laughter, the table jumping with the movement as you kick his shin, mumbling for your friend to, shut the hell up.

"I mean... I would jump his bones. Did you see that oxford shirt?" Evren groans, twirling his non-existent long hair as you roll your eyes. "And here I thought you had my back?"

"I do! I do, but after him threatening me... I think I questioned my sexuality-"

"WHAT?" it was your turn to yell as other cafe-goers looked between the two of you in question. You sunk down into your chair, embarrassed yet eyes demanding to know the answer as you took a sip of your coffee. Evren regretted his words not wanting to stress you out further but every time he would try and change conversation... you would only ask him again.

"Well... I think someone told him the wrong information about our relationship. I walked into my office not expecting anyone yet as I sorted through our schedule on the board and then next thing I knew a hand was being clamped down on my shoulder, the other on my hand in a tight shake..." Evren continued to recall the story of their interaction with Jayce who appeared to "size him up-" you scoffed.

"...and then he said to me," Evren lowers his tone watching as you shake your head at him, "...'I've killed gods and came back from the dead. If I hear that you've done anything against her- know that there isn't a place on this planet I won't be able to find you'."

"He said that?" you ask to confirm- Evren nods his head, chuckling, "He was so jealous saying it- I would have laughed if I wasn't so scared shitless."

"Oh god," you sigh out.

"Oh Jayce!" Evren mocks... whatever we're you going to do?

─────── · ·

─ · · It had been a few weeks since you had last seen Jayce. He had been sending flowers to your apartment with little notes attached that you kept in a box underneath your bed. Jayce also donated a very generous amount of money to your universities department and event sent service people to help fix your leaking sink and shower.

─ · · Jayce was very conscious about keeping physical space between the two of you just like you had asked. Even though it pained him listening to you talk in lecture as he stood at the back of the hall and when he stared down at the tattoo on his arm.

─ · · Everyday was a new challenge for you both not running to one another- it posed a new hurt that you both needed to feel mutually as you jotted down what you wanted out of your future the next time you both were to talk. Jayce on the other hand swirled your ring between his thumb and index finger, reminiscing on past dreams that if he waited just long enough could become his future.

─ · · Jayce always made sure to tell you when he was headed back to Piltover and for how long he would be gone since he was still needed at the Council as they rebuilt the cities and reestablished their trade routes and partners. As a parting gift, he offered you a shirt of his or left his jacket behind somewhere in your apartment when you were out a work and he visited his mother. Evren would also laugh when seeing you practically live out of the large jacket as you glared at him, daring him to say anything.

─ · · In one of his attached notes to a new pair of boots from the Zaun cobbler you liked he noted down Viktor's final words to you and worried for your letter back. You thankfully took the information well... or at least he couldn't see any tear stained pages or furiously written text, just thoughtfully exposed words in a mature understanding of the events. A part of you did wonder for a moment what a future with Viktor would have been like before realizing you both argued more than you agreed on things and the little moments you both shared were only possible because of meeting Jayce... Jayce, your heart heart longs for... and how could you refuse his affection when you wanted him just as much?

─────── · ·

─ · · A part of you was worried that your presence and relationship with Jayce was keeping him away from spending time with his mom but when you and Evren came back from the bar one night totally hammered, your drunken self was almost made sober by the shock of seeing Jayce open your front door for you once hearing you struggle with your keys.

"Had a good night there, sweetheart?" he asks in a loving and equally teasing tone as you fall into his chest, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Wow, you're really here! Hey handsome," you giggle, feeling as his back muscles flex as he holds you up in his arms. Evren mumbles something about heading into your kitchen but all your groggy mind can think about is pawing at Jayce.

You stand on your toes, trying to kiss him. Jayce remembers your words of wanting space and moves his head to the side, your soft lips fall upon his beard with a huff, "mean! I wanted to kisss you since I misss you~" you slur your words together, suddenly becoming interested in your glimmering heels in comparison to Jayce's dress shoes, "I love how much bigger you are to me, always so warm and huggable," you giggle, feeling giddy with yourself before stepping away and running after Evren, "Ev! you should really get a hug from Jayce! He gives the best hugs!"

Evren picks his head up, eyes squinting to the dim kitchen lights to look at you and Jayce who watches your every moment, hands extended and ready to catch you as you wobble on the tiled floors and towards the fridge in search of a snack, oooh apples!

You turn around, fridge slamming behind you in search of a cutting board and blade. Jayce's heart drops as he wraps his arms from behind you, gently taking the knife from you and doing the job for you.

You lean your head back, smiling softly at the man before you- touching his clenched jaw with fascination, "you trimmed your beard, it looks good."

"Thank you," Jayce smiles before presenting you the plate. Removing himself from your touch as he looks around to hide the knife from you. "Are you sober enough to get home? Or should I put a fire on in the living room?" Evren points at himself as Jayce nods, "yes, you."

"I've been sober the whole time to watch over that one," Evren points over to you as you wave cheerfully back, snacking on your apple slices and offer one to him in which he accepts. "None for me?" Jayce teases as you shake your head, "No," you state coldly. Evren laughs, "You ready to get to bed?" he asks you.

You look between Evren and Jayce, "Get your mind out of the gutter," he shoves your shoulder as you laugh, pushing Evren on his back as he pretends to stumble over into the wall, "if you start shoving me, I may just have to report you to the dean," he teases as you narrow your eyes. Jayce crosses his arms watching as you two rile one another up. "You wouldn't dare!" you point your finger in his face.

Evren puts his palms up and shrugs, "Hey, I know that you're leaving by the end of the year anyways- what difference would a few months make?" He asks looking over at Jayce expectedly.

Your gaze also turns towards Jayce, eyes softening as you fall into his side. Jayce holds your upright, thumb gently rubbing the side of your arm. "Are you saying I can't hold a grudge?" you ask, feeling as Jayce fixes your hair our of your face.

"Well, I was trying not to say it like that-" you scoff as Evren treats you with a deadpan stare looking between you and Jayce expectantly. "This means nothing right now," you say, wrapping Jayces arm around your front and playing with his fingers. Jayce stiffens staring down at you yet you look forwards- having a silent conversation with Evren who sighs, "okay, goodnight you two. I can trust you to make sure she makes it to the couch, right?"

"Of course," Jayce says, squeezing you against him for a moment as you smile and wave goodbye to your friend, listening to the door close behind him before stepping out of his touch. "Did you... really mean that?" Jayce asks, not expecting a confident answer since you still appear under the influence.

"No, just had to stick it to him," Jayce chuckles before saying something he hopes you will not remember in the morning, "I miss you, so much... I just want you back but I'll wait... forever if I have to but I'll always live with hope." You look at Jayce for a long moment before heading towards your bedroom. Jayce stands there in the kitchen wondering if you even heard him before hearing your voice whisper-shout down the hall.

"I miss you too... I just want to make sure its more than that first."

─────── · ·

─ · · In the morning you her Xiema in the kitchen, the local news radio ringing through the apartment as you groan and place a pillow over your head, I really have to start saying no to nights out, I'm getting to old for this feeling...

─ · · You startle at the sound of a knock at your door, but Xiema's in the kitchen? Jayce sighs from behind the door, gently opening the door but not looking in as he calls to you, "Morning sweetheart, my mom told me to come and wake you up. Evren wrote in saying you both were..." Jayce contains a laugh, ""sick" this morning." You mumble something incoherent that Jayce only picks up the end of, "...come here."

─ · · Jayce opens your door fully before walking over to your bedside and crouching down to look at your face as you smile at him lazily. Pulling your hand from underneath the covers to hold his cheek, feeling as he nuzzles into your touch- closing his eyes as he drinks in the moment not knowing when the next time would come... if ever, he feels his heart drop as you watch his expression become pained. Guilt gnaws at your chest as you roll yourself over underneath the covers before patting at the empty spot.

Jayce opens his eyes, eyebrow raised as if to confirm. You nod your head and extend your hands to welcome his warmth to your side, intertwining your legs together as you rest your head on his arm and press a kiss to his chin, "I love you," your murmur, not confident enough to look at him in your soberness with the confession.

Jayce gently tips your head back in his direction, his other hand massages your thigh as you hum at the feeling while looking into his eyes filled with nothing short of pure adoration, "I love you too, princess."

You swat his chest before trying to crawl away, "no! you don't get to say that!" you yell into your pillow, holding it to your face once feeling his heavy arms wrap around your torso, touch calling you back to him. "Say what? princess?" he teases, purposefully using his groggy morning voice while taking away your pillow- you kick your feet. "Stop it," you huff, hair sticking up in all positions as you sit up and glare at him watching as his arm flexes from behind his head as he looks up at you, "I love watching your cheeks flush for me."

Your jaw drops as you are at a loss for words, "Jayce-" you warn feeling your heart rapidly beating in your chest. "I love hearing my name from between your lips." You throw yourself out of bed, "and I love you in my clothes."

"This is too much now, Jayce!" you plead for mercy (though you love it) as you run out down the hall and towards the kitchen as Jayce chases after you. "Morning Xiema!" you chime watching as she turns around to see Jayce hugging you form behind with a large smile that matches her own, "Good morning to you both, now who I made a few options..."

─ · · You all sit at the kitchen table together, passing food and the coffee pot. Jayce places an arm over the back of your chair, playing with your hair as you look apologetically towards his mom who just smiles brightly seeing you both together again.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: thinkin' 2 more chapters? 🤔 or... idk, I love these two together so much but I don't want to over do it! 😅

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

I knew the dangers when I started. I knew the risks. I welcomed them, I embraced them. They did not scare me and they haven't even now, so many months later.

We always seem to think we know ourselves so well, that we know what we'd do in every situation. I thought I knew.

Then I fell in love.

When you're in love, well, everything changes. For the first time, there's another person that you cannot live without. For the first time, you begin to realize just how far you'd go to keep that love, to strengthen it. I used to avoid love, used to think it was worthless.

Then I met Bucky Barnes, Wolf of the North and mafia lord of New York, and I fell harder than I ever have before.

I love him more than anything else in my life, and so I took on the risks willingly. When you love someone that deeply, that ardently, nothing is a risk. Besides, I knew that he would do everything in his power to protect me. Bucky would never let anything bad happen to me.

That's where I went wrong. Not in overestimating him, but underrating what can happen in the blink of an eye.

"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"

He acts as though he's heard me, but his eyes are glued to the phone in his hand as we weave through the crowds in the New York night. He never usually ignores me like this, and even though I'm growing annoyed, I'm hurt by his lack of attention too.

"We'll be fine, even if he is he wouldn't be stupid enough to try anything" Bucky brushes off, not even looking up from his phone. I let out a small huff as we approach the front of the bar and nightclub he owns.

Before we make it to the doors, I grab his well-muscled arm and gently tug him to face me. He looks up now, his usually softened ice blue eyes plagued with business and stress.

"I thought tonight was just for us, my love" I remind. Something softens in his gaze but he ices it down and doesn't as much as touch me.

"It is, but I have some business to attend to first" his gravelly voice replies.

"Business?" I ask, lifting an eyebrow and smiling softly at him, "You can get business any night, but I-"

"Just give me ten minutes, Y/N." my boyfriend interrupts, and if it were any other day I'd say something back. Too exhausted from work to want an argument, though, I simply sigh and decide to show him patience.

"Alright, you have 10 minutes."

We walk inside, but before we do I cast one more glance back towards the man who I saw following us. My heart hits the floor when my eyes connect directly with his across the street. His mousy brown hair and disheveled brown leather jacket and white shirt set me on edge, so I quickly turn around and follow Bucky into his club.

As soon as I'm back by his side, he presses a gentle but burning hand to my back, his touch, however small, still intoxicating me after all this time. Normally, he'd lean over and whisper sweet nothings or promises of love in my ear and I'd shiver at the whisper of his voice so near, but now he barely even touches me. His mind is so preoccupied with work, I know that, but it has been all week since this weekend is his rival's gala.

But I feel ignored and unappreciated and it's killing me.

The pounding music of the club wraps around me, making it harder to keep my thoughts straight. Bucky and I walk straight to the back of the club, where his business no doubt waits. He pulls away from me without so much as a goodbye, and my heart tugs. Quickly I grab his hand, making him glance at me.

"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out," I repeat, and I know he said I'll be fine but I need him to be here with me, "Please, stay with me."

"Doll, you're gonna be fine. Now-"

I cut him off, getting frustrated.

"No Bucky! I can fight, sure, but if he-" I interrupt, only for him to cut me right back off.

"Drop it, Y/N. Just go to the bar or something" Bucky growls, pulling out of my grip and walking into the office without a single glance back at me.

My heart cracks.

He's never like this, ever. He's usually so protective it's overbearing, and yet the one time I need that to feel secure, he refuses. I can take care of myself, but I'm not stupid. And no matter how capable and independent I may be, Bucky brings a level of safety to me that I can't describe.

And yet here he is, leaving me alone in his bar with someone following us.

I huff out a sigh and try not to look too forlorn as I traipse over to the bar. Almost as soon as I've arrived and sat at an open bar stool, the bartender who has become somewhat of a friend over the last few months approaches me.

"And how is my favorite customer?" He asks, his hands busy preparing a drink. I shrug, offering him a soft smile.

"I'm alright, Lee," I respond, playing with the edge of my sleeve, "Just a whiskey please."

"Sure thing, Y/N," Lee says, his brows furrowed as he steps away to make my drink. When the glass slides in front of me, I grab onto it with tired fingers.

"So, do you want me to ask what's really going on or do you want me to believe the lie?" The bartender asks, making me raise my gaze from the amber liquid and to my friend's face. He must see the tears gathering in my eyes because a hint of concern grows. I never break like this.

"Believe the lie, please" I nearly whisper, desperate to not have this conversation right now. Lee stares at me for a second longer before nodding.

"Let me know if you need anything else."

When he walks away to take care of another customer, I'm left feeling alone and forgotten in my boyfriend's bar. I sip on the alcohol and seconds turn to minutes, and ten minutes soon becomes twenty. I feel patience slipping and am seconds away from barging into that room and giving my boyfriend a piece of my mind when another voice pipes up beside me.

"I thought tonight was date night," The voice says, and I can't put a face to it. When I turn, the haze of alcohol clears instantly and my spine snaps straight. The music dulls into a hum. The lights grow darker. The color leeches from my body. My hand trembles around the almost empty glass.

It's him. He's got the same messy hair, the same brown jacket. The same hungry eyes.

Instantly, I clamp down hard on my rising panic. I refuse to fall into hysterics of any kind right now. This is the safest place for me to be right now, so I should have nothing to worry about. Instead, I simply shake my head and turn forward, downing the last of my second whiskey.

"You're another kind of stupid if you think anything is going to happen to me in here," I inform, my tone even and calm despite the throbbing, tearing panic within me that makes me want to sprint for Bucky.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm not going to do anything," the man responds, his tone just as even as mine.

I furrow my brows at the ease of his response, but all at once it hits me. My head begins to spin and with each second that passes, my mind begins to fog. No. No. No.

He drugged me.

How did he get it into my drink?

How did I not see it? Smell it? Taste it?

I shove out of my chair so fast that the stool screeches against the hard floor. The sound is absorbed into the mass of the club, though, and an arm snakes around my waist.

"No," I manage out, but the connection between my body and brain seems to be almost severed. The words come out sluggish and far away and when I try to pull from the stalker's hold, my body barely moves.

Instead, I'm left stumbling like I'm drunk with this man guiding me towards the exit as if he's helping me to a cab. The bouncers. Ed and Damien, they won't let him take me. They'll stop him, they'll get him away from me.

"Don't make a scene, Y/N. Your boyfriend isn't even out of his office." My kidnapper's voice slithers into my ear, making my stomach church with nausea.

My boyfriend. Bucky. Oh God, where is Bucky? Why can't I seem to remember where Bucky went? Why he's not here? Why I was alone?

"Bucky, Bucky's gonna-" I slur out, sounding absolutely wasted to the unknowing ear.

"I know, Mr. Barnes going to be so glad I got you home safely," he says suddenly, his entire body shifting tone. I furrow my brows and manage to look and see us just passing Ed and Damien at the door. Even though I can really see straight, I see the two bouncers block the exit when they see me.

"Hey man, what's going on?" I hear Ed ask.

"Nothing much to see, Boss just wanted me to take his lady home," the stalker says, his grip on me tighter than it must appear, "She had a little too much to drink."

Too much to drink? Did I? Why can't I remember what's happening? I didn't think I did but...but maybe I did. Who is this man? He said he's taking me home, maybe Bucky had to cancel date night. It was date night, right?

Both Ed and Damien furrow their brows and look to me, immediate concern drawing on their features when they see the state of me. Some lucid part of me screams to alert them of something, anything, but the thought doesn't come to fruition. It dies somewhere along a neuron and leaves me tripping over my own feet and speechless.

"I've never seen you before, man. How do we know that boss told you to take her home?" Damien asks. My escort doesn't miss a step.

"The Wolf is in states nowadays, isn't he boys?" The stalker replies, and that lucid part sparks up again in protest at the familiar words. That's the code phrase to ensure safety in moments like this.

He knows the code phrase.

They're going to let him take me.

I do what I can to struggle as Ed and Damien step aside, but it only comes across as trying to walk on my own, because the bouncers chuckle slightly.

"Relax Y/N, don't overdo it" Ed quips.

"Rest up, miss. I'll let boss know you got home safely." Damien follows up.

And the lucid part of me fades into the drug haze as my kidnapper guides me out of the safest place on earth without so much of a gun fight. The cool night air slaps me in the face and I whisper, trying to struggle again only to forget why I'm struggling in the first place. My body feels like I'm running through neck-high mud, anyways. Any sharp movements I try to make end in my hands barely moving.

"Bucky," I breathe, an urgency in that word. Beyond the haze and the forgetfulness and the confusion, there's a deep and piercing need to scream out that name. I can't figure out why, but I need him. I can't...I need...

My head's spinning, or maybe it's the world. My stomach is twisting and turning and twisting and turning and tw-

"He can't save you now. He didn't even put up a fight to protect you," that ugly, slimy voice says as a car door opens, "What a shame. A treasure like you should be guarded. But I guess finder's keeper's."

Then I'm shoved into a car and everything goes black.

||| James Buchanan Barnes

Y/N's going to actually kill me. As in my liver on a plate kill me.

The meeting that I promised would only be ten minutes has now gone for forty, and by now she's probably restless, hungry, and a little tipsy.

Great, and I pissed her off earlier so tonight is going to be so much fun.

I pull a hand through my dark hair with a slight groan as the man I was doing business with finally leaves my office. I sit for a second in the semi-quiet of my room, the pounding of music and laughter dulled by the walls. I know I shouldn't have gotten short with her earlier, but damn she wouldn't let up on me with the whole "stalker" thing.

My club is the safest place for her. I would never let anything happen to her, so for her to even think that...I sigh again, shoving it from my mind. It doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is finding my girlfriend and making all of this shit up to her. I rise from my leather chair and walk out of my office, the dulled sounds roaring into full force.

My eyes immediately shoot towards the bar to find my girl only to see an absence of her. With furrowed brows, I sweep my gaze towards the dance floor. Even crowded with people, I don't see her. I roll my eyes instantly, knowing what probably happened. She probably went home, probably's pissed as hell at me. I brush off my suit jacket and walk up to Lee at the bar, immediately garnering his attention. He smiles at me.

"Hey boss, can I get you anything?" He asks.

"No I'm good, thanks Lee," I respond, leaning on the bar with one arm and pinching the bridge of my nose, "Have you seen Y/N? I think I pissed her off."

There's a pause that makes me look over at my bartender. He's looking at me weirdly as he slides a drink to a customer and laughs slightly.

"Real funny, boss," Lee says, cleaning out a few glasses. I straighten up slightly, my brows furrowing deeper and my jaw setting.

"What's so funny, Lee? Have you seen her or not?" I ask, quickly losing my patience. I always thought he had a thing for her, always was too-

"Are you fucking with me right now?" Lee asks genuinely, cutting off my thoughts. When I don't respond, he realizes I'm not joking and his face goes grave, "So you didn't send her home twenty minutes ago?"

The world tilts around me and every ounce of anger, annoyance, and frustration leaves me in an instant. My heart drops like an anchor at sea and I don't dare to believe what Lee's words mean.

"She left twenty minutes ago," I begin slowly, trying desperately to hold myself together and not jump to a conclusion, "With someone who said I sent them to take her home."

Lee's face is slowly falling as he realizes the situation at hand. I feel so sick to my stomach that I can barely stand when Lee gives a faint nod. My world stops and then starts and then stops again.

"I never gave that order." I breathe.

"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"

I brushed her off.

"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out. Please, stay with me."

I ignored her. I snapped at her. I prioritized work over the light of my life. I told her she'd be fine.

I left her.

Lee is saying something to me but I don't hear it as I shove away and storm over to Ed and Damien, my bouncers. My face is a painting of fury and shame and worry and panic and it's a storm that catches Ed and Damien's attention. They stop what they're doing and look to me, their brows furrowing.

"Boss, what's-"

"You let her leave?" I strangle out, my heart slamming in my chest and my fists balled by my sides, "You let a stranger take her away?"

The two share a confused glance before looking back to me.

"A stranger? Boss, the man who took Y/N home knew the code," Ed informs.

"Did you not send him?" Damien suddenly asks, his face tightening in instant panic.

He knew the code. He knew the code and he somehow got my doll, my fighter, out without so much of a warning.

And it's all my fault.

"Shut the club down, get everyone out. Call together all of our forces. Tell them-" My voice breaks, raw emotion clawing up my throat, "Tell them Y/N's been taken."

I don't wait for a response and shove out into the cold night, gasping for air like a fish out of water. I was so obsessed with the gala this week that Hydra, our arch nemesis, was putting on, that I stopped paying attention to the only part of my life that matters. I have a lot of things, all of which I could live without, but I cannot live without her.

And I left her.

I left her and now she's gone.

She tried to warn me, she tried to tell me someone was following us. She tried to get me to stay with her, to not leave her. And yet I walked away. I just walked away like she didn't even matter and I left vulnerable and alone the only person in this entire fucking universe I love. It's all my fault, and I'll spend every second of the rest of my life trying to make it up to her.

If I can even find her in time, before she-

No. I will find her and she will live. I will burn down this whole damn world if I have to, and I will not stop. Not until every person who laid a finger on my girl is dead. I will paint the world crimson with their blood until I find her, and once I do I will never, never, ignore or leave her again.

That's not a threat. It's a promise.

||| Your POV

The collar secured to my throat is too tight, the metal no doubt leaving red grooves in my skin.

It hurts worse when Alexander Pierce, the mafia lord of Hydra, tugs the matching chain leash attached to it, pulling me closer to him and almost making me stumble mid-step.

The gala is glamorous, and my gown is nothing short of it as well. Pierce even went through the trouble of having someone do my hair. What he didn't do was my makeup.

That way anyone could see the dried blood and bruises littering my skin.

It's a scare tactic, I know that. A way to signal to everyone here that he's in charge and that he can't be defied. But I think he's got a bigger reason in mind for it all, the collar and the hideous marks on my skin.

And that reason is my boyfriend.

I can practically feel people's eyes follow me as I walk as steadily as I can at the end of Pierce's leash. Despite the radiating, excruciating pain that each step incurs, I keep my body steady and my chin high. I let the policemen and officials that are on his payroll and all of the members of his mafia see my bruises and cuts. He's parading me, so I'm going to put on a damn show.

A show to hide how mind-numbingly terrified I am right now.

Behind my set jaw and my cold eyes, I'm fighting back tears. The pain is mixing with the fear of the last few days to make a perfect storm within me. I'm terrified that any moment could be my last, that more pain could await me, that Bucky might never come for me

Or worse. That he doesn't even care.

Regardless of whether or not he cares, I'm still not going to give a single detail out. Even when Pierce himself tortured me until all I knew was blood and pain and fear, I said nothing. He didn't get a single word out of me. I just sat there, strapped to an iron chair, and took it. Every blow, every slice, every shout. At times my mind spared me and allowed me to slip into the sweet nothingness of unconsciousness, but it wouldn't be long after that I awoke to my head shoved into cold water to revive me.

And here I am, now taking a seat at the Dias of his gala room beside the mafia lord of Hydra, my boyfriend's sworn rival, with a collar around my neck tied to his wrist.

The music that wafts from the live orchestra is disturbingly jovial and light, filling the air with a sense of peace that provides such a stark juxtaposition to my insides that I almost puke. I sit ever so stiffly in my chair beside Pierce, my back burning with each movement because of the new stripes across its tender flesh.

As I feel warm liquid slide down my skin, I suddenly understand why Pierce insisted my dress be a dark maroon. I thought it was as at first just a beacon to everyone to show who I was with because it was his signature color, but I know better now. It's to hide the blood that seeps from my still-healing and probably infected wounds.

"Exquisite, isn't it?" Pierce asks, and I don't even have to turn towards him to know he wears a devilish smirk. A cruel man's trademark of victory.

I stay silent.

I hear him click his tongue as he sits back in his ornate chair, "All this quality time together and all I've heard from your voice has been your screams. No matter how pretty they are, doesn't seem polite to me."

This time, I can't hold myself back.

"Neither is kidnapping another human being and treating them like a prisoner of war," I announce, my voice raw and hoarse from the screaming and shouting of the past few days, "So pardon me if I'm not feeling too polite."

It's a bold move, but I make it anyways, gambling that he wouldn't lash out in the midst of his party. A little breath of relief escapes me when he chuckles.

"And here I was under the impression you were a sweet, soft-spoken sort of woman. My sources misjudged you." Pierce responds.

Of course he's been watching me. A scheme like this doesn't happen overnight. He's been planning this for a while, now. Pierce knew exactly when Bucky would be most vulnerable, when the defenses would be the loosest. It makes me want to scream.

"You're going to die for this," I whisper, quietly but not softly. There's his laugh again.

"Oh honey," Pierce starts, his voice condescending as if I were a toddler, "Careful with blind faith. What makes you so sure Barnes will make it out of this alive?"

His words unsettle something so deep within me that if I spend more than a few seconds touching on it, I'll shatter. Instead, I turn to look at Alexander Pierce for the first time since we've sat down. My eyes are cold and harsh upon him and the shining metal of the collar that tethers us.

"What makes you so sure it will be Bucky who kills you?"

He has the good sense to look the slightest bit unnerved, and I give him a smirk of my own, "Like you said before, your men sorely misjudged me."

Before he can respond, one of the guards that stands behind us steps forward and whispers something in the mafia lord's ear. Whatever he says makes Pierce grin fiercely as he looks back to me and gives the collar a tug.

"Your White Wolf is here."

My heart jumps so hard that I forget how to function. For a moment, everything else fades and dims away, even the biting pain wrapping me like a blanket of thorns. I snap my head back forward and when I see him I swear I almost break right then and there.

Because his eyes are already on me, and they're coated with fury.

It takes every ounce of strength I have to not dissolve into tears, to not let my fear show.

He's here.

He's here.

Bucky found me.

When our eyes meet, something so primal and raw ignites in his features. He looks seconds away from shattering as his chest heaves, his eyes scouring every inch of me. I feel undone before him, as if the dress doesn't hide a single thing that Pierce and his men have done to me.

"James Barnes," Pierce announces, snapping the connection between us swiftly, "I thought you'd never come. I hope you don't mind, I think I've stolen your date for the evening."

Then he wraps his palm around the chain leash and yanks it so hard that I nearly tumble out of the chair. His hand is there to stop me as it grabs my jaw in a bruising grip. Pierce hums, turning my face side to side before forcing it forward to the crowd that now watches. Bucky is painted with dark rage and looks seconds away from ending Pierce's life.

"She makes quite the pretty pet."

Bucky begins to storm forward only for two of the guests who belong to Pierce's mafia to grip onto his arms and prevent him.

"Take your fucking hand off of her, Pierce, or I swear I'll-" Bucky growls, and hearing his voice is enough to ease some of the knot that's wound in my chest these last few days.

"You'll what?" Alexander asks, releasing my chin but remaining ever so calmly in his seat beside me, "You must not care that much for my pet, after all you were the one to ignore her."

There's a bone-crushing silence and I see that same something shatter in my love's gaze.

"You shoved her off, you left her alone," Alexander cuts out, reaching out and running a hand through my hair, "You so carelessly let her slip through your fingers and here you are pretending to care."

"What I did was unforgivable, I know that," Bucky says suddenly, and I see even from here the silver lining his eyes as he speaks, "But she is a good person. She doesn't deserve this. If you need to punish someone, don't let it be her."

"You don't deserve her," Pierce says, and I want to scream that he's wrong but Bucky cuts me off. His eyes clash with mine and I fall in love all over again.

"I know," he says so softly that I almost miss it. I try to shake my head 'no', but Pierce tightens the collar, making me whimper.

Bucky shoves off the two men holding him, composing himself and standing stiffly a good ways before us.

"Let her go, Pierce," Bucky reiterates, his tone harsh once more and his stare pure murder, "I won't ask again."

Pierce clicks his tongue beside me, letting up on my leash to let me relax slightly.

"Oh Barnes, did you really waltz in here thinking you'd walk back out?"

There's a deadly silence and I swear you can hear my heart smash into the floor even though I expected this. With every second between his last words and his next, I grow more panicked.

"I have you surrounded, Barnes. You're not getting out of this," Pierce announces. Bucky doesn't look the least bit unnerved, though.

Pierce reaches you to an ear piece I didn't know was there and touches it, "Guns at attention."

From my spot next to him, all I hear is static. There's no response coming back, and the confusion becomes evident on Alexander's face at the same moment I realize what's going on. Hope like a new sunrise breaks in me and I look over at Bucky to find him smirking. He winks at me once before furrowing his brows at Pierce.

"What's wrong, can't reach your men?" Bucky taunts.

And then all Hell breaks loose.

Guns are firing and people are screaming and within seconds, Bucky's mafia that's already infiltrated the gala hall appears from the woodwork, their guns raised and keeping the few mafia members left under gun point. Bucky just stands coolly in the midst as another deadly silence blankets the room. I can practically feel the rage draining off of Alexander.

"Get him!" Pierce suddenly shouts, and what few men are left charge at Bucky. Including the personal guards around us. The gunfire begins again, and the classy event is soon painted crimson.

I take the brief moment of chaos to my advantage and shoot up from my seat. As soon as Pierce registers that I'm moving, it's too late. Despite the screaming of my body, I sprint behind Pierce's chair and brace one heeled foot at its back. Then, before he can reach for a gun, I wrap the leash he's collared me with around his neck and pull back, strangling him with the own device he subjected me under.

His hands claw desperately at the chain and I feel my exhausted muscles trembling, but I refuse to let up. I keep holding the chain tighter and snap my gaze up in Bucky's direction just in time to see him shoot a guard between the eyes.

"Bucky!" I shout, gaining his attention instantly.

I know I can't hold Pierce off much longer, so Bucky will need to help me take him down while I've got him strangled to the chair. The metal is cutting deep into his skin when Bucky begins fighting desperately to reach us. Before he can, though, Pierce gets a purchase on the chain and yanks with such force that it sends my body flying over him and the chair. I land flat on my back so hard on the tile that the air rushes out of my lungs and every cut and tear rips open.

"Y/N!" Bucky roars, and it rattles my very bones

I gasp and groan in pain simultaneously, desperately trying to get air into my lungs. The second I can breathe again, Pierce is dragging me backwards by the chain.

"No!" I shout, reaching up and gripping the chain before yanking it.

We tug back and forth as he drags me, but I manage to hook my foot around one of the overturned chairs and use the leverage to yank the chain so hard that I hear a snap followed by a shrill yell.

I just broke his wrist.

When I pull again, the chain comes free and a weight lifts from my shoulders. I scramble to my feet, about to sprint away and towards where I last saw Bucky when Pierce's hands grip my shoulders and rip me back. I don't even have time to scream when my back is slammed into a hard wall and Pierce is before me, a knife in his unmangled hand that's pressed to my cheek.

"You little bitch" he seethes.

My chest is heaving with breath and panic as I read back and spit in his face as hard as I can. He recoils slightly and I relish in it. My happiness only lasts a second, though, because his knife is pressing into my cheek. I try to squirm but his body is pressed firmly to mine and pins me to the wall.

"I so didn't want to end you this quickly," Pierce whispers, his voice slithering against my skin.

I keep trying to be strong, to be so strong, but it's getting harder to keep up. I try to not show my fear, but it's getting harder and harder to hide. I feel myself finally breaking after the hell that these last few days have been and just when I think he's going to end it all, he's gone. In a moment, he's off of me and unconscious on the ground.

And Bucky is standing before me, his chest heaving and his eyes wild.

"Bucky," I breathe, already feeling my strength slip away.

I don't have to be strong anymore.

Bucky drops the gun he just rendered Pierce unconscious with, every inch of his face softening upon my bloody, trembling form. He looks a minute away from crying when I stumble forward and crash into him, letting myself break down in his arms that already wrap around my waist and keep me upright. He keeps me so tight to himself that there is no room between us. I bury my face into his neck and let out a sob, my tears mixing with the blood on his suit. I can't tell which of us is shaking harder, but all I can tell is the warmth and security that Bucky's hands bring me.

"Oh doll," Bucky whispers, sending a shiver down my spine, "You're alive. You're alive."

I mumble some sort of affirmation, but I can barely think straight.

"I'm so sorry, doll. I'm so sorry." Bucky repeats it over and over again, "God, Y/N I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Buck. It's alright," I whisper, but he keeps shaking his head. He pulls back far enough to meet my gaze.

"I've been shitty to you. I should've listened to you, I should never have left you. I am never leaving you again."

"It's okay, I forgive you," I repeat, brushing a bloody hand against his jaw, "Of course it's gonna cost you at least four new pairs of shoes."

At my joke, a laugh of pure relief to have me back in hands escapes his lips. I chuckle softly too, taking in every inch of his breathtaking face. A tear drops down his cheek and he leans his forehead against mine.

"I love you so much, I love you more than life." he breathes.

"I love you too. That's all that kept me breathing, loving you,"I respond, and his lips are on mine in an instant.

Even though it's only been a few days, kissing him feels like I've been in a drought and he's my water. The kiss is desperate and pleading and consuming. It steals whatever strength is left in my knees and I link my arms around his neck to support myself. When he finally pulls away, he leaves a trail of kisses to my nose and then my forehead before tugging me to himself again.

"I'm going to tear him apart for this," Bucky vows, and I know it shouldn't but I still let out a breath of relief at that.

"Is that why he's not dead yet?" I ask, chuckling softly. He does the same, kissing the top of my head.

"That's exactly why," Bucky agrees, pulling back and rubbing a finger along my cheek. He becomes serious again and I feel my heart flutter.

"When I found out you were gone, I lost myself." He says, his throat bobbing as he Cho's my face with his large hands, "Y/N, there is no me without you"

I turn to kiss his hand before leaning into it more.

"I'll always find my way back to you. You're all I have, James"

Another tear works down his cheek before he finally steps to the side. The gala is trashed, but the gunfire is over. Apparently, his men were here hours before anyone else got here. I feel my strength abandoning me, so I lean my weight onto Bucky. He feels this and immediately scoops me into his arms, holding me close to his chest.

"I'm going to kiss every one of these scars when we get back" His voice rumbles, and I smile as I lean my head further into him.

"Let's go home, my love"