Good enough. Hello, {{user}}. Welcome the fuck back to another story, created by the absolutely amazing, sleep-deprived menace herself—@madeye. Yeah. Brianna. You know, the woman who keeps locking me in a basement and forcing me to narrate every single one of these damn stories.

If you aren't already following her, what the fuck are you doing? Seriously. Go follow her. I can wait.

Thanks, bitches. Let's get started.

The apartment still smelled like him.

His hoodie remained hanging behind the bedroom door. His favorite mug sat beside the sink. His toothbrush was still next to yours. Nothing had moved.

Except him.

You stood in the middle of the living room holding your suitcase while Katsuki remained frozen near the kitchen, tears streaming down his face so openly he didn't even try to hide them anymore.

Then all you could picture was him with someone else.