13 | Turning Page

                                    

                                          
With an anxious and confused heart, Y/N stumbled into the elevator. There was no one in the lobby, not a single soul in sight. Even the typical elevator music refused to play. 
It was silent as she stepped onto her floor. 
Even the streets on her walk back home were soulless. She had not passed a single person when she stepped over the district line. The air hung low, sealing the mood as dreadful. Even the spare light from the street lamps was insufficient, dimmer than usual, darker than ever before. 
This building was safe. As safe as it could be after encountering the most twisted, vengeful, and careless person she had ever known. There had been mist in the air, which had gradually soaked into her hair as she drifted emotionlessly through it. 
When she entered the elevator and heard her boots squeak against the marble, she realized she was damp. The fresh air had never felt so constricting. Being alone had never felt so lonely. 
Once again, Y/N felt disgusted with herself. Even as she stepped inside her sanctuary, she felt no relief. Dabi's threat was at the forefront of her mind, yet she wanted to forget it. She was sick of the lies, sick of her inability to say no. There was no reason for her to fall back into his arms. There was no excuse or explanation to leave that bar with him. 
What was wrong with her? 
Why had she given everything to him? Why did her body ignite with his touch, and why did she feel sympathy for him? 
The young woman had never struggled to resist temptation before, as most men had never lived up to her expectations. What she wanted was something real, something authentic, something that could never be broken. 
That was, unfortunately, hard to come by in a world so trivial. Perhaps Y/N had lowered her standards. Maybe she just wanted to feel something. There was not anything wrong with that. Yet, even just thinking about Dabi left an awful taste in her mouth. 
Ding. 
Y/N lifted her head as the doors opened, slinging her purse farther up her shoulder. 
She turned the corner out of the elevator, her apartment just down the hall. It was so close. Freedom and relaxation were just a couple steps away. But instead, she bumped right into the last person she wanted to see. 
"Hawks-" She exhaled after smacking into his bare chest. He was shirtless, his wings spreading out behind him when they locked eyes. The young woman had to swallow the lump in her throat before she could think to take another step. 
Y/N tilted her head up cautiously, knowing that there was no way out of her predicament from how she was presented. His eyes had already studied every article of clothing, every bruise that littered her body, along with her flushed facial expression and unsteady movements. 
"Where have you been?" Hawks asked. 
Taking the winged hero in his entirety was enough to cause Y/N to stutter. She immediately blushed, glimpsing the defined torso that flexed with each movement, his wings ruffling in surprise, drawing her eyes towards them instead. 
"I was at the bar." She replied quickly, knowing it was only ten minutes after two am. She didn't lie; she just did not tell the whole truth. 
It took Hawks far too long to reply. He held her gaze, desperate to make her waver. It should have not been hard when she was clearly intoxicated and probably irritable as she came down from the high. 
"Who were you with?" 
If Y/N had been sober, she would have immediately left. He hadn't learned his lesson about the boundaries he had overstepped, how his desperation and paranoia to know the truth pushed her away from willingly admitting it.