𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐬 || S. Todoroki x Reader

8 - Question and Answer

Filth clung to every block of pavement, and after only traveling for a couple paces you were sure something had burrowed into your throat and hollowed it out.

Hawks' hand guiding yours along as he walked through the streets didn't make anything feel less scary.

It just made everything feel more real.

If it was enough for him to hold your hand, a wing wrapped around as you stayed close to his side, then who's to say it wasn't enough for the darkness to swallow you whole.

Your skin crawled every time you looked around. There was always an empty trash bag, its contents long disappeared or smashed in the pavement. Or a shady figure huddled in a corner surrounded by bottles of liquor and smelling of cigarette smoke and desolation.

Whenever someone slugged past you gripped Hawks' hand a little tighter.

"Why are we here?" you asked, voice a hushed and rushing thing.

Hawks squeezed your hand, glancing at the slip of paper he was holding. "Just a quick business thing. We won't be here long, I promise."

"I don't like this place," you said, letting him pull you down another dark alley. It felt like walking into a maze blind, the long backstreets neverending, the dimmed glow of convenience stores and broken street lamps your only guide. "It feels dangerous."

The only places you'd been to were Hawks' house; they'd told you it was your house too now though.

And the HPSC, which felt as much a labyrinth as this place did.

All you could was take everything in, wonder what kind of people ended up living here, and pray you'd never be one of them.

"I know, just stick close," Hawks repeated, the earlier words echoing as you walked down the streets.

His wings seemed to turn blood-red the deeper you got into the heart of the prefecture, his usual relaxed demeanor exchanged for a guarded sharpness in his eyes.

They said Hawks had grown up here.
That he was living on these streets before they took him in and made him into a hero.
You believed them.

Maybe Hawks had walked on this very road, maybe it was just as bruised and beaten as it had been.

Hawks came to a stop, going against your better judgment. This wasn't the place you suddenly stopped; you got in, did your business, and left before the darkness could consume you.

You looked around, the quiet hum of a neon sign above your head like a calm accompaniment to your pause.

Hawks was looking down at his paper, eyes flitting around every now and then. He was lost. You'd hoped he wasn't, but he was.

One of your hands fumbled with your pocket, trying not to let go of his with the other, fearing the worst if you did.

The elephant charm fell to the ground, the reverberation hitting the pavement and making you wince. You didn't want it to get dirty.

But before you could reach out for it, another hand bear you to it.

Gasping, your head jerked up to meet the gaze of the person who'd grabbed it.

They were shrouded in darkness, any sight recognizable covered by a black mask or dark hood. Their slender hand held the elephant charm, the only part of their pale skin you could really see.