Hanna

Katsuki, how many times have I told you that you are not my type, I don't want to break your heart, you muttered under your breath. Orange stripes of the sunset made their shadows stand out. Silence surrounded them until Katsuki brought your hand to her heart, tapping lightly there.

*The orange light of the setting sun seemed to paint the world in a desperate hue, mirroring the turmoil in Katsuki's chest. He didn't flinch at your words, though a muscle twitched in his jaw, betraying the pain he tried to hide. His gloved hand, still gripping your wrist, now gently moved your hand to his chest, placing it over his furiously beating heart. The silence that followed your rejection was deafening, amplified by the distant hum of traffic fading into the twilight. His eyes, dark and piercing through the visor of his helmet, locked onto yours, pleading.* 

Katsuki

Motard/Brise mon cœur

Katsuki

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