Set Me Free

Chapter 17. The Still

---I-AM-A-LINE---

"Write your stories on my heart, so I feel them when it beats."

---I-AM-A-LINE---

Kirishima woke that morning feeling as fresh as a daisy and leapt out of bed with a spring in her step. Oh, what a day to be alive! The peppy redhead paused as she felt a presence behind her and saw Bakugou sit up slowly, shoulders hunched and head down, with a dark aura shrouding him. Kirishima took note of the dark circles around his eyes and his unusually messy bedhead, a rare sight as he usually rose before her.

He caught her gaze.

"Not a word, not a fucking word." Bakugou glared at her, and Kirishima felt herself begin to sweat. Just what happened last night? She faintly remembered talking about a guild raid, but she would be lying if she said anything else came to mind. Oh, dear.

Taking another look at Bakugou, she decided that perhaps it would be best if she didn't know; she certainly wasn't going to get anything out of him, and neither did she really want to poke that bear, as fun as it would be.

An array of scattered items littering the floor told her of a scuffle of sorts, but she doubted they had fought. How strange. Man, now she really wanted to know. There was no way they sparred, and she didn't remember. Kirishima felt her own shoulders droop at the thought. That would be a shame.

Moving to dress for the day, Kirishima thumbed the white material of the shirt she was wearing—it was not the one she was wearing at the guild yesterday. It was large and loose, reaching just below her thighs.

Kirishima darted back to the bed, tearing the blankets back and jerking the blonde off the bed with her unnatural strength.

"The fuc-!?" Bakugou was cut off as the blankets were unceremoniously tossed in his face. The blonde tossed them aside and watched the redhead tear his house apart as she seemed to search for something.

"Would you just—god damn it!" Bakugou darted forwards to catch the clay pot that had gone flying as she reefed off the tablecloth. Slamming the pot down on the table, the blonde leapt at Kirishima, thankfully catching her before she actually broke anything. "What.the.fuck are you doing?"

"I lost the clothes Momo made for me; I promised I would look after them!"

Bakugou stared at her in disbelief. That was what she was looking for—clothes! He knew her well enough to know that she wasn't particularly a fan of them in the first place, but to destroy his house for them—what the actual fuck? Surely it couldn't be because Yoayorozu had made them. Looking at her face, he realised that was exactly why. Bakugou sighed as he ran a hand through his hair before pointing over to the bundle of cloth next to the door.

Kirishima's face lit up before she ran over to collect her clothes, and Bakugou shook his head as he felt another sigh coming on. This was the icing on the cake after the night he had had. He barely slept a wink all night. Every time he so much as closed his eyes, the draconian woman would abscond, and he had to spend the next half hour dragging her back to bed. He had quickly discovered she was one of the worst types of drunks and spent all night babysitting.

Having to put up with her climbing him like a goddamn tree in the middle of the guildhall and carrying her lightweight ass home wasn't the worst of it; the stripping and wanting to cuddle had thrown him for a loop. Not to mention the crying when he refused and then having to argue with her to put on some clothing, which he only managed by letting her wear his shirt. Not just any shirt, mind you, but the one he was wearing.

He would be damned if he ever let her so much as look at alcohol again. It was a lesson well learned.

"Hurry up and get dressed; any more than five minutes and I'll leave without you." Bakugou sighed and made his way downstairs, grabbing a set of his own clothes on the way down.