Fantasy Bakugou x Reader

Chapter 25

"...Bakugou?"

No response.

"Bakugou, come on-"

Still nothing.

You sighed and stayed in the princes embrace, unsure of what to say or do next. The desert air was cooling as the sun slowly made its descent down towards the horizon, as well as making a chill run up your spine. Bakugous arms held onto you tightly, one of his hands still tangled in your (H/L) hair, his face nuzzled into your neck. He had stopped shaking by now, and the quiet attempts to stop crying had disappeared, which made you feel relieved and concerned at the same time.

You quietly called him name one more time, running one of your hands through his blonde hair and attempted to lean out of his grasp. The faintest growl came from the boy as you moved away from him, but when you made eye contact, he just stared back at you expressionless. Your other hand moved up to his cheek, cupping it and brushing his tan skin with your thumb, smiling softly.

"Come on, we need to keep moving. ℓЄt Ԍө."

His lips pouted slightly, but he listened, untangling his arms from you and letting you stand to your feet, ignoring your outstretched hand and staggered up to his own. Bakugou brushed himself off before lightly hitting you, checking you for any bruises and brushing the sand off of your clothes. You rolled your eyes and tried to fight him off, but he continued until you got a few feet away from him, putting up your hands in defense.

The sun was already beginning to set, and you felt a pain forming in your neck. Why did the days move so fast? Were they always like this? You both hesitated at the small pool of blood, reliving the encounter from earlier. A chill ran up your spine as you bent down and grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulders and quickly moving back to Bakugous side. He had put away his sword, lazily wiping the blood off, but kept out a small hunting dagger, twisting it in his hand.

"tӉЄ ԀЄЅЄЯt ҪДҋ ԌЄt ԀДҋԌЄЯөҴЅ Дt ҋЇԌӉt. ЈҴЅt tЯҰ tө ЅtДҰ ҪℓөЅЄ, Ԍөt Їt?"

You didn't get it, but you understood the words 'got it', so you nodded and followed closely behind him. That's probably what he had said, right? The wind picked up and blew your hair to the side, the quiet whistling getting louder in your ears as you stayed close to the prince. Bakugou seemed fine, every now and then covering his eyes from blowing sand to shield his vision, while you pulled up your hood and held it in place. It was cold, windy, and getting dark, could it get any worse?

As if the Gods had heard you, a rolling thunder echoed in the distance, and you groaned. It was going to rain, wasn't it? Luckily, even with the blowing sand, there was a century old hardened road under your feet, leading the way and making it easier to walk through the desert. But, how big was the desert? You knew it existed, sure; you had heard stories of it from the village elder. Your mind slowed and your pace quickened as you tried to remember what you were told so many years before. It was as vast as the Southern Sea, painted in shades of oranges and reds. It was hotter than fire each day, and colder than the long winter every night. It was also the home of the Mirag, the quote on quote 'traitors' that were one of the enemy leaders in the Great War.

But could you believe any of that now? The desert wasn't as cold as the winters you had experienced. Cold, sure, but not unbearable. The sand was a pale orange, nothing like the intense hues described by your elder. The Mirag, well, it was still uncertain, but Bakugou was plenty of confirmation for the time being. The only thing that really seemed to reign true was the vast description; the desert did stretch on for miles, and probably further than your eyes could see.