Tongue Tied (Part 2)

Part 2

After their meal, they stepped back outside into the cool evening air. The sky had darkened into a deep indigo, stars beginning to dot the horizon. Katsuki could feel the pull of the open road again, the need to keep moving, but he hesitated. They'd been running nonstop for days, and he could see the exhaustion in Ochaco's eyes, even if she tried to hide it.

"We can stay here for the night," he said, his voice gruff as he gestured toward a small motel down the road. "Rest up. Leave in the morning."

Ochaco blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting him to suggest it. But after a moment, she nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, that sounds good."

They walked the short distance to the motel, the flickering neon sign casting an eerie glow over the parking lot. Katsuki paid for a room at the front desk, and they made their way down the narrow hallway, the thin carpet worn from years of foot traffic.

The room was small and bare—just a bed, a nightstand, and a lamp—but it was clean enough, and that was all they needed. Katsuki tossed his jacket onto the chair in the corner, running a hand through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh. The weight of the last few days was finally catching up to him, and all he wanted to do was collapse onto the bed and shut his eyes for a few hours.

But as he turned to face Ochaco, he noticed the way she was looking at him—her eyes soft, her lips slightly parted, as if she had something to say but wasn't sure how to say it.

"What?" he asked, his voice rough but not unkind.

Ochaco hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, her hand reaching out to brush lightly against his arm. "I'm just... I'm glad we're doing this. I know it's not easy, but I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

Katsuki's chest tightened at her words, the vulnerability in her voice cutting through his usual defenses. He wasn't used to people relying on him like this, trusting him like this. But Ochaco wasn't just anyone. She was different. She always had been.

Without saying anything, he reached out and pulled her into his arms, holding her close as he buried his face in her hair. He could feel the steady rise and fall of her breath against his chest, the warmth of her body against his, and for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to just... be. No running, no fighting, no pretending. Just them, in this quiet, fleeting moment of peace.

"I got you," he murmured into her hair, the words barely audible. "I got you."

And for now, that was enough.

- - -

Ochaco stood outside the motel, the cool morning air brushing against her skin as she held the phone to her ear. This time, the conversation didn't start with gentle concern or warm reassurances. Her mother's voice was sharp from the very first word.

"Ochaco Uraraka," her mother's voice cut through the line, stern and cold. "Where on earth are you?"

Ochaco flinched, gripping the phone tighter. She had been dreading this conversation. "Mom... I—"

"You left. You just left without a word! Your father and I were worried sick," her mother interrupted, the disappointment heavy in her voice. "Running off like that with Bakugou? What were you thinking?"

Ochaco's throat tightened, her eyes burning with unshed tears. "I—I needed space. Things were getting too hard, and I didn't know what else to do."

Her mother's voice grew colder. "So your solution was to run away? To disappear without telling us? Do you have any idea what you've put us through? We were ready to call the police!"