❣ Forelsket ❣ Keigo Takami/Hawks

[Book 2] ↬ Cage and Collar

You wrapped yourself in delusions.

You were every hero's worst nightmare, realised. The man for whom your heart roared was certainly no exception, although his perfect mask managed to lead your mind astray. Still, you were resolute in your mission, completing it with far more ease than he had ever anticipated. That beautiful little bird was finally caught, imprisoned within a massive cage, and you weren't prepared to relinquish the key. His quirk was restricted, the bars of his new home too small to escape through. Clearly, this was a premeditated kidnapping, and everything had been planned out accordingly.

It hadn't been long since his dreams had been disturbed by a curious rattling on the bars, but you didn't appear to be anywhere in the vicinity. He sighed, brain overloading as he tried to figure out an escape. It he was able to release himself before you arrived, then he would stand a fighting chance.

After that thought, a painful sensation began to blossom in his chest. It felt as if his heart had been set alight. This wasn't your quirk - he understood the intricacies of your power, and this simply wasn't it. So...what was it? What was happening to him? Did...Did the mere image of fleeing from your grasp...incite guilt? This feeling only intensified, the longer he dwelt on it. Maybe it was because you were friends? Well...former friends, anyway. After your disappearance, he scoured every crevice of Japan in an effort to locate you. And now...now you resurface as a villain? Not only that, but you take him captive? He wondered if this was a hostage situation, or just the sick desire for a toy - someone to violate, someone to mess with. The Number Two Hero would be quite the catch.

Better than a regular civilian, anyway.

Your intentions weren't exactly crystal-clear. Not yet, at least. Once he had an inkling, perhaps a better strategy could be formed. Meanwhile, all he could do was wait, silently studying the wrought iron birdcage. Did you even...still remember him? He had harboured a deep, romantic attraction for you from the beginning. It was difficult to miss, considering the barrage of flirtatious comments and pick-up lines. And you had indulged him, for a time. There hadn't been a concrete relationship, but he always wished for one. As did you. But that sort of commitment required courage - more so than was available.

Back then, no more than three years ago, your purity was blinding.

This despicable development was confusing, but also terrifying. His mind reeled as he asked impossible questions. Did you retain any memories of him, of your glory days? Deep down, were you still the same, loveable woman who had captured his heart so tightly? Would you snap out of your trance (it had to be a trance, an illusion...nothing more), if only he implored you? Or would you exploit him, when you were his greatest weakness? Even now, the fact remained, pounding in his ears like church bells. His body wouldn't ever move to harm you, no matter how his mind willed it to.

...Did you know that?

Rubbing a hand along his chin, he sighed. Standing around wasn't something he was renowned for, and his impatience was catching up. Surely, you at least recalled this about him? It was torture. Torture! He rested a hand against the edges of his confines. A chill fluttered up his spine. There was a faint noise, the sound of metal being dragged on stone. Were you finally coming to greet him? He prepared himself - if he managed to charm his way out of this prison, maybe he could use his quirk? Just to trap you, of course. The thought of causing any injury was sickening. His ears strained as the noise echoed off the walls, then faded slightly. It frustrated him, because he needed you! For release, yes, but that wasn't the extent. His rib-cage seemed to be faltering under the weight of his violently-thundering heart, and he hoped that a small chit-chat might quell it a little.

Unlikely.

Desperation was rising within him, and he turned around, saddened by the pathetic, too-small bars that kept him from you. Why hadn't he noticed this sooner? A futon, along with shirts and other articles of clothing, littered the space. Everything was messy, but arranged in a certain way. It looked like...a nest.

She made a nest for me?

Despite his mind screaming at him to pay attention, to stay alert, he dove straight into the pile. As he nuzzled against what was obviously your clothing, he realised that your scent lingered. He inhaled it blissfully, almost forgetting himself. Was that truly the effect you had on him? Well, not that his heart particularly minded. He might have cooed, or even purred, but those sounds were drowned out by the thrumming of blood, and the spiking of his pulse. This was your fragrance, after all, and he adored it; he always had.

"Having fun there, birdie?" You called, laughter dying down when a low moan tore from his lips.

Should he be more embarrassed, or confused? Why had he suddenly felt such an overwhelming need for you? And why had you only appeared once there was valuable blackmail material? Were you waiting for that opportunity? Hawks really didn't have a rebuttal. Perhaps shame was the most appropriate emotion? It bloomed on his cheeks as a tempting, crimson hue. You grabbed a key from your pocket, unlocking the gate-door-thing (he hadn't even registered the existence of), and walking inside. Hawks shuffled into a proper sitting position, clearing his throat. That was when he noticed the ebony collar, dangling from your fingertips.

You relished in his shock. "I know birds don't usually wear collars, but it will cancel your quirk, and I plan on making you submissive...like a dog."

As you furnished his neck with the symbol of his newfound obedience, he couldn't offer one of his usual, cheeky responses. A mixture of hurt and love eclipsed his vision. Maybe an eternity in your embrace would allow him more happiness than out in the open. There was no danger here, in this home.

...Not if he kept his wayward façade at bay.

[Word Count: 1039]