#cold press oil machine for sale

[sonarappliances1]

Get High-Quality Cold Press Oil Machine | Sonar Appliances

In the realm of culinary excellence, the quality of ingredients can make all the difference. Today, as more people cultivate a deep appreciation for wholesome and natural foods, the need for premium Cold-Pressed Oils has been on the rise. Catering to this growing demand for purity and health-conscious choices is Sonar Appliances, a trusted name in the realm of kitchen appliances.

At Sonar Appliances, the focus is not just on providing a product but on delivering an experience that transforms the way we perceive and use cooking oils. The Cold Press Oil Machines From Sonar Appliances have become synonymous with quality, reliability, and innovation, making them a staple in the kitchens of passionate chefs and health-conscious individuals alike.

What sets Sonar Appliances apart is their commitment to excellence in every aspect of their products. Their Cold Press Oil Machines are designed and manufactured with cutting-edge technology that preserves the nutritional integrity of the oils, ensuring that you get the full benefits of the natural ingredients. Whether you are extracting olive oil, coconut oil, almond oil, or any other variety, Sonar Appliances ensures that every drop is rich in flavor and nutrients.

One of the key advantages of using a Cold Press Oil Machine From Sonar Appliances is the elimination of heat in the extraction process. Unlike traditional methods that use heat to extract oils, cold pressing maintains the temperature below 50 degrees Celsius, preserving the delicate properties of the ingredients and resulting in oils that are pure, unadulterated, and bursting with flavor.

Moreover, the convenience and efficiency of Sonar Appliances' cold press oil machines make them a valuable addition to any kitchen. With user-friendly interfaces and hassle-free maintenance, these machines empower users to create their own high-quality oils with ease, ensuring a fresh supply of nutrient-rich goodness at your fingertips.

Beyond the practical benefits, investing in a Cold Press Oil Machine From Sonar Appliances is a statement of commitment to quality, health, and sustainability. By taking control of the oil extraction process, individuals can ensure that they are consuming oils free from harmful chemicals and additives, promoting a healthier lifestyle and a more conscious approach to nourishment.

In conclusion, if you are looking to elevate your culinary experience, prioritize quality, and embrace the goodness of natural oils, look no further than Sonar Appliances. With their High-Quality Cold Press Oil Machines, you can embark on a journey of flavor, nutrition, and culinary creativity that will redefine the way you cook and eat. Choose Sonar Appliances for a tastier, healthier, and more fulfilling cooking experience.

Contact Us

India

Sonar Appliances

Visit: https://sonarappliances.com/products/Domestic/Cold-Press-Oil-Machine

Call Us: +91 9312248787

Mail At: Sonar2025@Gmail.Com

ADD- E-77, West Vinod Nagar, Near Mayur Public School,

Behind Mother Dairy, Patparganj, Delhi, 110092, India

[coldoilpressmachineforsale]

Cold Oil Press Machine For Sale | Sonar Appliances | Best Deals & Quality Products

In the world of culinary arts and healthy living, the importance of high-quality oils cannot be overstated. Whether you are a home cook, a health enthusiast, or a DIY skincare fanatic, the process of extracting oil from seeds and nuts is a crucial step in securing the purest and most nutrient-rich product. This is where Sonar Appliances steps in, offering Cold Oil Press Machines that are set to revolutionize the way we extract oil at home.

Traditionally, oil extraction involved heat and chemicals, processes that could compromise the integrity of the oil and diminish its nutritional value. Cold press extraction, on the other hand, is a method that involves crushing the seeds or nuts and forcing them through a press to extract the oil without the use of heat. This gentle process helps to retain the natural flavor, aroma, and nutrients of the oil, making it a preferred choice for those seeking the highest quality product.

Sonar Appliances, a leading name in kitchen appliances, has brought this technology to households with their range of cold oil press machines. Designed with efficiency and ease of use in mind, these machines empower users to create their own fresh, unadulterated oils from a variety of seeds and nuts. From almond oil to coconut oil, sesame oil to sunflower oil, the possibilities are endless with Sonar Appliances at your disposal.

What sets Sonar Appliances apart is not just the technology they offer, but also their commitment to quality and customer satisfaction. Their cold oil press machines are built to last, with robust construction and durable materials that ensure long-term performance. Additionally, these machines are easy to clean and maintain, making them a convenient and practical addition to any kitchen.

But the benefits of Cold Oil Press Machines From Sonar Appliances extend beyond just quality and convenience. By allowing individuals to extract oils at home, these machines promote sustainability and reduce the carbon footprint associated with store-bought oils. Moreover, they provide peace of mind, giving users full control over the ingredients and processes involved in their oil production.

Whether you are a health-conscious consumer looking to incorporate pure, natural oils into your diet, or a culinary enthusiast eager to experiment with flavors and aromas, Sonar Appliances' cold oil press machines offer a gateway to a new world of possibilities. Say goodbye to store-bought oils laden with preservatives and unknown additives. With Sonar Appliances, the power to extract your own oils is now in your hands.

In conclusion, the cold oil press machines from Sonar Appliances represent a game-changer in the realm of home oil extraction. By marrying innovation with quality craftsmanship, Sonar Appliances has provided a solution that caters to the needs of modern consumers who value purity, sustainability, and self-sufficiency. Embrace the future of oil extraction with Sonar Appliances and experience the difference that fresh, cold-pressed oils can make in your life.

Explore the range of Cold Oil Press Machines From Sonar Appliances today and embark on a journey towards healthier, tastier, and more sustainable living.

Contact Us

India

Sonar Appliances

Visit: https://sonarappliances.com/products/Domestic/Cold-Press-Oil-Machine

Call Us: +91 9312248787

Mail At: Sonar2025@Gmail.Com

ADD- E-77, West Vinod Nagar, Near Mayur Public School,

Behind Mother Dairy, Patparganj, Delhi, 110092, India

[coldpressedoilmachinedelhi]

Buy Cold Press Oil Machine Near Delhi From Sonar Appliances

In the bustling cityscape of Delhi, where the chaotic rhythm of life never seems to slow down, the importance of healthy living is paramount. The food we consume plays a pivotal role in our well-being, and what better way to elevate your culinary experience than by using pure, unadulterated cold-pressed oils? Sonar Appliances, a leading manufacturer of innovative kitchen solutions, presents an array of top-notch Cold Press Oil Machines right in the heart of Delhi.

Why Cold Press Oil?

Cold-pressed oils have gained popularity in recent years for their superior quality and health benefits. Unlike traditional methods that involve high heat and chemicals, cold pressing involves minimal heat, preserving the natural nutrients, flavors, and aromas of the oils. This method ensures that you get the purest form of oil, free from harmful chemicals and additives, making it a wholesome choice for cooking, skincare, and overall well-being.

Sonar Appliances: A Trusted Name

With a commitment to quality and customer satisfaction, Sonar Appliances has established itself as a trusted name in the industry. Their cold press oil machines are crafted with precision and designed to deliver exceptional performance. Whether you are a health enthusiast, a culinary expert, or simply someone who values the purity of ingredients, Sonar Appliances caters to all your needs with a range of efficient and user-friendly machines.

Benefits of Choosing Sonar Appliances:

1. **Premium Quality**: Sonar Appliances' Cold Press Oil Machines are built to last, using high-grade materials and advanced technology to ensure durability and efficiency.

2. **Variety of Options**: From sleek compact models for home use to larger industrial units, Sonar Appliances offers a diverse range of machines to suit every requirement.

3. **Easy to Use**: User-friendly features and simple operating mechanisms make it convenient for anyone to extract fresh, chemical-free oil at their convenience.

4. **Local Service**: Being in close proximity to Delhi, Sonar Appliances provides prompt service and support, ensuring a seamless experience for their customers.

Make the Smart Choice Today

Embrace a healthier lifestyle and elevate your culinary endeavors with Sonar Appliances' Cold Press Oil Machines. Say goodbye to store-bought oils filled with preservatives and additives, and experience the goodness of pure, natural oils straight from your kitchen.

Contact Us

India

Sonar Appliances

Visit: https://sonarappliances.com/products/Domestic/Cold-Press-Oil-Machine

Call Us: +91 9312248787

Mail At: Sonar2025@Gmail.Com

ADD- E-77, West Vinod Nagar, Near Mayur Public School,

Behind Mother Dairy, Patparganj, Delhi, 110092, India

[sonarappliancesmanufacturer]

Exploring the Benefits of Commercial Cold Press Oil Machines by Sonar Appliances

In the era of health-conscious consumers, the demand for pure, unrefined oils has skyrocketed. One of the best methods to extract oil while retaining its natural properties is cold pressing. Sonar Appliances, a renowned brand in the industry, offers commercial cold press oil machines that are revolutionizing the market. In this blog post, we will delve into the world of cold pressed oils, explore the advantages of using a commercial cold press oil machine, and provide valuable information on where to find a cold pressed oil machine near you.

Understanding Cold Pressed Oils: Cold pressed oils are extracted without the use of heat or chemicals, preserving the inherent nutrients and flavors of the seeds or nuts. This method involves crushing the raw material and applying hydraulic pressure to extract the oil, thus maintaining its nutritional integrity and natural goodness.

Benefits of Cold Pressed Oils: 1. Retention of Nutritional Value: Cold press oils retain more vitamins, antioxidants, and essential fatty acids compared to oils extracted using traditional methods. This makes them a healthier choice for consumption.

2. Enhanced Flavor: With its minimal processing, cold pressed oils retain their natural flavors and aromas, making them ideal for use in culinary applications like dressings, marinades, or drizzling over dishes.

3. Health Benefits: Cold pressed oils contain a higher content of healthy fats, such as monounsaturated and polyunsaturated fats, which are beneficial for heart health. They also offer anti-inflammatory properties and can improve your overall well-being.

Sonar Appliances: Pioneer in Commercial Cold Press Oil Machines: Sonar Appliances has emerged as a leading manufacturer of high-quality commercial cold press oil machines. Their machines are specifically designed to extract oil with optimal efficiency and minimal wastage. Sonar Appliances' cold press oil machines are known for their robust construction, user-friendly operation, and superior oil extraction capabilities.

Conclusion: Investing in a commercial cold press oil machine from Sonar Appliances can be a game-changer for businesses or individuals looking to extract pure, unadulterated oils. By preserving the nutritional value and natural flavors of the seeds or nuts, cold pressed oils offer numerous health benefits. Take the initiative to explore the possibilities and discover the wonders of cold pressed oils by getting your hands on a reliable and efficient cold press oil machine from Sonar Appliances.

For More Information

Visit: https://sonarappliances.com/ Call Us: +91 9312248787 Mail At: Sonar2025@Gmail.Com E-77, West Vinod Nagar, Patpar Ganj, Delhi-92, India.

[hirocimacruiser]

Achieving a goal is the beginning of a new challenge. To run really fast, HKS thinks.

A drag race scene where people compete for 0.001 seconds over a distance of about 400 meters in just a few seconds. '91 is a drag field that demands quick response and power from the engine, clutch, suspension, and even a single drop of oil or gasoline, as well as durability and transmission ability to handle instantaneous high power. -In '95-'96, the ``HKS R32 DRAG GT-R'' won the series championship in the RRC Drag Race Championship for three consecutive years. The following year, in 1997, the ``HKS DRAG 180SX'' in the BERC Drag Race Championship Pro Stock class and the ``HKS R33 DRAG GT-R'' in the Pro GT-R class achieved the Avec Championship. Having achieved one goal in 1997, what we aimed for in 1998 is:

Quarter mile time in 9 seconds with FF base vehicle. They then talked about their know-how from drag racing to date, and ``HKS FF DRAG CELICA'' made its debut. The first goal was achieved on October 9, 1998 at Sendai Highlands with a time of 9.886 seconds. He further improved his time to 9.727 seconds, and in 1999 he set a goal of breaking the quarter mile in the 6-second range, and has already begun a new challenge. "Achieving a goal is the beginning of a new challenge" - HKS' never-ending battle continues

HKS

■Company overview

●Name HKS Co., Ltd. Established October 31, 1971

●Capital 607,475/Kawa Representative Director and President Naruyuki Hasegawa

●Location Head Office 2266 Kamiogawa, Kunikami City, 418-0192

●Business details

Development, design, and product sales of automobile parts, racing engines, turbocharger-related parts, and automotive components and systems Design, development, and manufacturing of original mufflers, suspensions, and engine parts Development of complete cars, development of aircraft engines

●Number of employees: 407 (333%, 74 women)

●Equipment overview

Experiment building: Dynamometer (1,000/800/600~300/200/PS) Chassis dynamo, exhaust gas analyzer

Old experimental building: Dynamometer (600/600-500-200/PS)

Manufacturing factory: 10ft machining center, 5 NC lathes, 41 cam polishing machines, 21 biston narai, 11 turning centers, 21 crank Kenjoshi, Monzen Kendanmei, 21 surface grinders, 1 gun drill machine.

Muffler factory: Pipe bender, robot welding machine, 1 laser machine, shell machine, multi-spot welding machine 11, 100T press, TIG welding machine, CO2 welding machine multi-stage

Muffler 2nd factory: Pipe bender / shirring / Yasuda machining center 1 piece

Suspension factory: Cold solid coiling machine, continuous coiling machine, surface grinding machine, shot peening machine, automatic setting machine, automatic load testing machine, etc.

●Affiliated companies

HKS Aviation Co., Ltd. HKS Service Center (Tokyo/West/Kyu)

HKS USA, INC (USA)

HKS EUROPE()

[commercialcoldpressoilmachines]

Buy Commercial Cold Press Oil Machine | Sonar Appliances - Quality & Efficiency Guaranteed

In today's health-conscious world, the demand for pure and natural oils is skyrocketing. Many entrepreneurs are jumping into the oil extraction business, seeking high-quality machinery that can deliver the best results. If you’re looking to elevate your oil extraction game, look no further than Sonar Appliances' Commercial Cold Press Oil Machine. Our commitment to quality and efficiency makes us the preferred choice for businesses worldwide.

What is a Cold Press Oil Machine?

A cold press oil machine is designed to extract oil from seeds and nuts using minimal heat, preserving the flavor, aroma, and nutritional value of the oil. Unlike traditional methods that rely on high temperatures, the Cold Pressing Process retains the essential nutrients, making the oil healthier and more appealing to consumers. This results in a superior product that stands out in the marketplace.

Why Choose Sonar Appliances?

Quality Matters: At Sonar Appliances, we prioritize quality in all our products. Our Commercial Cold Press Oil Machine are crafted with high-grade materials, ensuring durability and long-lasting performance. We understand that investing in machinery is a significant decision for any business, and we guarantee you will receive value for your money.

Efficiency is Key: Our machines are designed to maximize extraction while minimizing energy consumption. With advanced technology and precision engineering, Sonar's cold press oil machine can extract oils more quickly and efficiently than conventional methods. This not only reduces operational costs but also helps scale your business.

User-Friendly Design: Our commercial cold press oil machines are built for ease of use. With intuitive controls and straightforward operation, your team can get started right away without extensive training. This means reduced downtime and increased productivity right from the start.

Versatility: Whether you’re looking to extract oil from sesame seeds, sunflower seeds, mustard seeds, or nuts like almonds or walnuts, our machines can handle various raw materials. This versatility makes our Cold Press Oil Machine a perfect fit for any oil extraction business.

Support and Maintenance: At Sonar Appliances, we’re not just selling machines; we’re building relationships. Our dedicated support team is always ready to assist you with installation, maintenance, and any queries you may have. We want your business to thrive, and we’ll stand by you every step of the way.

The Benefits of Cold Pressed Oils

Investing in a Commercial Cold Press Oil Machine means you are tapping into the growing demand for cold-pressed oils. Here are a few benefits of cold-pressed oils that can enhance your brand:

Nutritional Advantages: Cold-pressed oils retain natural antioxidants and nutrients, making them healthier than their refined counterparts.

Rich Flavor and Aroma: The low-temperature extraction process preserves the original taste and aroma of the oils, which can be a selling point for culinary enthusiasts.

Eco-Friendly: Cold pressing is a more sustainable method with less energy consumption, making it an environmentally friendly choice.

How to Purchase

Ready to take the plunge and invest in a commercial cold press oil machine from Sonar Appliances? Here’s how:

Visit Our Website: Browse our full range of Commercial Cold Press Oil Machine on our official website. You'll find detailed specifications, features, and user manuals.

Contact Us: Have questions or need guidance on selecting the right machine? Our knowledgeable sales team is just a call or email away to help you make the best choice for your business.

Place Your Order: Once you’ve made your decision, you can easily place your order online. We ensure fast processing and delivery to get you up and running in no time.

Set Up and Start: After receiving your machine, our support team will assist you with installation and any initial setup, so you can start producing quality oils without delay.

Join the Oil Revolution with Sonar Appliances

Don’t miss out on the opportunity to enhance your business with our Commercial Cold Press Oil Machines. With Sonar Appliances, you can trust that you’re investing in quality and efficiency. Simply visit our website today and take the first step towards quality oil production that meets modern health standards. Make the wise choice for your business and join the oil revolution with Sonar Appliances.

Contact Us

India

Sonar Appliances

Visit: https://sonarappliances.com/products/Commercial/Cold-Press-Oil-Machine

Call Us: +91 9312248787

Mail At: Sonar2025@Gmail.Com

ADD- E-77, West Vinod Nagar, Near Mayur Public School,

Behind Mother Dairy, Patparganj, Delhi, 110092, India

[wholesaletobaccoaustralia]

Marlboro Ice Blast Cigarettes

Marlboro has a long history of sponsorship in motor racing. It backed factory World Rally Championship teams in the 1972 and 1974 seasons, and has appeared on the suits of drivers including Markku Alen and Timo Salonen.

In South Korea, marlboro ice blast cigarettes packages display intrafamily codes inferring a hierarchy of relative harm on the basis of the size of the Marlboro rooftop symbol. A larger rooftop is used for variants reporting a high machine-measured tar yield, and a smaller roof is used for variants reporting a low nominal tar yield.

MENTHOL

Menthol is a minty flavoring that can be found in many food products, tobacco products, and medicines. It has a cooling and anesthetic effect, suppressing the cough reflex and soothing a dry throat. It is also known to cause vasoconstriction, which can increase blood pressure and lead to heart attack and stroke. Menthol is especially dangerous for those with health conditions like cancer, heart disease, or high blood pressure.

Menthol can be derived from natural sources such as peppermint oil or extracted from its leaves and buds. It can also be produced synthetically. The natural chemical has mirror-image versions called L-menthol and D-menthol. L-menthol has low acute toxicity when administered orally, but the D-form can be toxic in high doses.

In a recent study, Roswell Park researchers used a randomized controlled design to compare the effects of different delivery methods of menthol in cigarettes on sensory attributes, perceived risk and appeal, and short-term smoking urges. The study was conducted in participants ages 18 to 24.

ICEBALL

The ice blast inside a cigarette was an innovation. It changed the way of thinking about a cigarette, as it challenged the notion that it’s a commodity product. The ice burst was a huge delta over regular marlboro gold cigarettes products. This was an important differentiation in the market and it solved for adoption behaviour.

Ice Blast is a capsule cigarette with an ice core that can be crushed by the smoker to unleash the intensely cool taste of menthol. It is available in a range of pack sizes, including the iconic flip-top box. The cigarettes are manufactured by Philip Morris UK and sold across Europe.

Cigarette packages depict numbers and sequentially different rooftop sizes to communicate relative machine-measured tar yields. In South Korea, for instance, a larger blue-coloured rooftop is seen on a variant with a claimed tar yield of 6.0 mg while a smaller rooftop is used for another offering reporting a tar yield of 1.0 mg.

ICEBURST

Ice burst is a cigarette from Philip Morris that features an iceball inside the filter which can be crushed to supercharge the icy cold taste sensation. The Iceball is a new innovation in the premium cigarette category and is designed to deliver a more refreshing experience than conventional cigarettes.

Ice burst is available in different countries and is intended to appeal to smokers seeking a more refreshing smoking experience. In addition, it is expected to comply with local tobacco regulations, including age-restricted marketing and sale. It is also likely to include health warnings and information about the risks of smoking. The ice flavour is a novel feature in the market and is intended to be complementary to the existing Marlboro portfolio. It is part of PMI’s strategy to leverage the ice brand to grow share in the global menthol cigarette market.

PACKAGING

Marlboro Ice Blast is a new variant of the popular marlboro red cigarettes Menthol cigarettes. It features an extra menthol capsule in the filters which can be cracked open by pressing down hard on the pack. This new feature adds to the menthol flavor and taste of the cigarette. The packaging for Marlboro Ice Blast has been changed from the previous one to include a new logo. The logo is similar to the other Marlboro cigarette packs, but features a green ball that can be broken by pressing down on the pack.

The cigarette packages for both the Marlboro and Ice Blast brand variants portray blue-coloured rooftops, with the different rooftop sizes communicating a hierarchy of relative machine-measured tar yields. The package for the 6.0 mg tar-yield variant depicts a larger rooftop, while the 1.0 mg variant depicts a comparatively smaller rooftop.

In order to ensure that the ice cubes are safe to smoke, it is important to wrap them in a paper or plastic bag before smoking them. This will prevent them from melting or becoming soggy, and will also help reduce the risk of fires or burns.

[kichuguu1]

Grease lightning: Edible Oil Manufacturing

Mechanical oil press machine is a kind of oil extraction equipment that uses physical pressure to extract oil from oil seeds. It is suitable for processing various oil seeds, such as peanut/groundnut, soybean, sunflower seed, corn germ, palm kernel, copra, mustard, cottonseed, castor, sesame, and many more. This type of oil press machine has a production capacity ranging from 60-500kg/h, making it ideal for small to medium-sized oil processing plants.

Power and Staff

The mechanical oil press machine has a power capacity of 4.5kW, which is sufficient for the extraction of oil from different types of oil seeds. It requires only two staff members to operate and maintain, making it a cost-effective option for small-scale oil processing businesses.

Cold Pressed and Hot-Pressed Oil Production

There are two different methods of oil production using mechanical oil press machines: cold pressed and hot pressed. The final product produced using these two methods is completely different in terms of quality and properties.

Cold Pressing

Cold pressing is a method of oil extraction that involves extracting oil directly at room temperature without the need for frying. This results in a low acid value, and the oil products obtained after precipitation and filtration require no further refinement. The cold pressing method results in a lower oil yield and a higher sales price. The oil color is light, and the oil residue rate is higher, requiring extraction two to three times.

Hot Pressing

Hot pressing involves extracting oil at high temperatures by roasting the seeds before oil extraction. This method increases the acid value significantly and results in a loss of natural quality, requiring further refining to make it fit for consumption. The hot pressing method results in a higher oil yield, and the oil color is darker, requiring extraction only once.

https://kichuguu.com/

[peanut-processing-machines]

Sesame oil is an essential condiment in many dishes. It has a strong aroma and is nutritious. Traditionally, it squeezes sesame oil by the stone grinder. But now it also has the screw and hydraulic sesame oil press machine to press sesame oil in addition to stone mills.

Tel/WeChat//WhatsApp: +86 17303821432

E-mail: info@nuts-machine.com

If u are interested in the machine, feel free to contact us.

[midnightmoonkiss]

Painful Stings & Sweet Apologies

Yandere! Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: Rage fueled by failure, Izuku finds comfort in a bar, only to come home to a broken promise and a furious darling. He didn’t mean for this to happen.

WARNINGS!: blood, violence, alcohol (Izuku under the influence)

Category: Angst, one-sided fluff

Word Count: 9k+

A/N: This is my first yandere fic! I’m nervous as hell, I have no idea if I got this right lol. Though I did spend months perfecting it to the best of my abilities! Hope you enjoy~

Just To Clarify:

You’re both adults

It’s Friday

It’s cold and rainy (naturally--)

Izuku’s bedroom has a walk in closet and a bathroom

the kitchen is off-limits

THIS IS A YANDERE FIC!

Izuku is an obsessive yandere~

Cold, burning liquid rushed down the male’s throat as he gulped at the drink within the short glass.

Whiskey, or more specifically - a Jack Daniels, the honey-brown alcohol that delivered a bitter slap to all those who drank its refreshing nectar. 

It wasn’t his usual drink, and certainly not one he’d ever guzzle like a parched beast.

Hell, who in their right mind would do that? Even with a single sip, it left your chest burning with its heat.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

Or, more of, self-loathing times call for a quick, one-way ticket to Forget-Me Ville and Cringe Island.

The bar he sat at was lively, filled with drunken laughter and slurred speeches of men and women who have been out for far too long.

But it was Friday night, so who cared?

A rainy, cold, sucky, depressing Friday night, one of which his friends tried to make a bit better by taking the pissed off, green-haired hero out for drinks.

They certainly hadn’t expected Izuku, an innocent little guy who couldn’t handle his liquor for shit, to shoot down an entire glass of whiskey.

At first, he ordered a simple beer - a starter drink if you will.

It didn’t take but ten minutes for him to gulp that glass down, and he was onto his next drink - a sangria wine cooler. His typical drink. He always was more of a fruity guy, after all, preferring the sweet tang over the bitter bite.

But as the night raged on, and so did his inner turmoil, he kept ordering stronger and stronger drinks, until he got to the whiskey. You could say he lost his sense of reason a while ago.

He was still seething with rage, not as much as before but the mixture of anger and frustration swirled hotly with the alcohol pumping through his veins and sitting in his belly.

You could say it was keeping him warm in this lifeless atmosphere.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t think of you, his precious little darling. He could barely think straight, mind occupied with too many thoughts to be able to understand any of them. It was all a garbled mess, one he chose to ignore.

Was that a good or a bad thing? He’d find out later.

But for now?

He needed another drink.

In the beginning, this Friday seemed like it was going to be one of the best he’ll ever have.

For months this pro hero has been working alongside detectives with catching a murderous villain known by the name “Ghoul.”

They were sick and twisted, their motives unknown, their trail hard to tract.

He had only one encounter with them, but he was too late to catch them.

That’s the day he was brought in to help aid the case.

But, that day haunted him for weeks. He knew that if he had arrived at the bloody scene sooner, he could have captured that cannibalistic fuck, brought justice to those who had already died by their mangy hands.. and prevented the deaths that would ensue after.

He’d known horrible villains before, but this one was different. Their teeth were sharp, blood permanently stained their clothes, and they gave off a wolfish vibe. Yes, a hunter. One who tore flesh from human bones and munched on it until someone screamed in terror for help.

For months he helped gather intel, piece puzzle pieces together, aid with location predictions and stakeout missions, until finally - they found that bastard.

It was more of a hunch than anything really, that Ghoul would show up to that site.

Ghoul, while hard to track, left a pattern in their wake. They avoided certain areas, thrived where the poor were at their weakest. The murders always seemed to happen at the exact same time behind run-down fast-food restaurants.

It was unclear if the sicko liked a hearty human meal with their victims own stomachs filled with greasy, fattening food, or if it was just convenient to them, either way - the perp was too damn sloppy.

To regular ol’ police personnel, the murders would just always happen there, behind restaurants.

But after Deku’s team began tracking where each and every murder occurred, it was quite easy to tell they were drawing, funnily enough, a circle around the city’s map.

It was stupid, childish, and downright idiotic, but damn if that didn’t lead the team to find the cold-blooded killer.

Adrenaline and pure hatred for the villain fueled Deku’s onslaught of attacks, each seemingly more powerful and less calculated. His mind was muddled.

He was filled with rage, finally being able to see the shitty excuse of a human again, but it affected his movements. He was being hasty, careless, not his usual calculated self.

And that’s what brought him his demise.

His shoulder was harshly bitten, razor-sharp teeth tearing through the fabric of his suit and shredding up the skin on his shoulder. Their quirk pumped through his blood instantly, making him collapse onto his knees, paralyzed. He hissed in pain as the sickeningly warm liquid flowed down his arm, unable to stop himself from face planting onto the dirty gravel of the alleyway.

He had lost, and Ghoul got away.

He still remembers it, after all, it was only hours ago that it happened.

The sun had long since set, the crescent moon hung high in the sky as her stars shimmered around her. His wound was stitched up and healed by doctors, leaving only a bitter scar to remind him of his failure.

He failed not only himself but those who counted on him.

God, he sucked.

And so, he ordered another drink.

He wanted to forget. He didn’t want to feel the failure sting at his fragile heart anymore.

It was too much to take.

What type of hero let the villain get away, knowing full well that they would kill again?

They couldn’t track Ghoul’s trail anymore, for the circle had been completed - and they were left with nothing with the numbing feeling of brutal loss.

Hours blurred together as his mind went hazy. His speech slurred together, dull, green eyes unfocused and mouth blabbering out nonsense to his friends that he couldn’t even really hear. It just- came out. 

Soon enough, he was being dragged out of the bar by his annoyingly sober friends.

The night had gotten colder since they first entered the warm bar, rain pelted down like freezing bullets flying from a machine gun. A dirty old awning kept them dry as they stood still at the front of the bars entrance, the loud music bouncing off the walls inside echoed down the empty streets.

Heavy streams of salty rainwater poured off the edge of the awning, splattering down into a mud puddle that emptied into the sewer grate below.

Who doesnt love the musty stench of rain on asphalt?

Hell, the smell itself, combined with the strong yet savory scent of the Korean barbeque joint across the street was enough to make him nauseous. He had drank far too much, and his stomach was suffering the consequences. He should have eaten more before drinking. How foolish.

 “It’s pretty late, you should head home.” Reasoned his best friend, Todoroki, puffs of condensation leaving his mouth as the warm breath met cold air, pressing a freezing hand to the back of the freckled boy's sweaty neck to jolt his drowsy, drunken self into a more alert state. Nothing but time could sober you up, but damn if that hand didn’t help slap some energy into him.

“Yeaahh, ye-yeahhh.. I gooht you Todooroe.” God, he sounded like someone high on anesthesia after being awoken from a surgery - which he definitely would be able to compare this experience to. Being a hero meant at least a few surgeries a year. Comes with the job.

Plus, this wasn’t the first time he’s been drunk.

He sure as hell hated the aftermath, but some nights it felt as if the hot burn of alcohol was the only thing that could keep him sane.

This was just one of those nights - or perhaps it was multiple nights slammed into one from just how stupidly drunk he was. The world was blurred, and Izuku doubted he could even walk straight at this point.

The half and half hero waved down a stray taxi, street water splashing up onto the sidewalk as the yellow vehicle came to a screeching halt.

“Get home safe.” Todoroki sighed out his nose at seeing his friends out-of-it state, helping the giddy and jelly-like hero into the back seat.

Izuku pouted, grabby hands clinging onto his friend's shirt in protest.

With a half-hearted chuckle, Todoroki pried himself free from his grip, handing the cab driver more than enough yen to get the drunk boy home.

He gave the taxi driver an address, and soon the car was rolling off down the street, Izukus flushed face pressed against the cold, fogging glass and staring with eyes full of tears at his friend.

Though, it seemed as if he had forgotten a promise he made to someone very important to him. Someone who he devoted his entire life to.

Someone who he risked everything for.

You.

His princess who had been locked in a small, dark room all day, wrists tightly cuffed to loose chains on the wall. The only light provided was a rusty oil lamp Izuku had gotten at a yard sale one day. The flame was dull, and left the room covered in shadows.

The tile below was as cold as it had been since the morning when Izuku had forcefully chained you there for misbehaving the night before.

You had deserved this punishment for disobeying him.

That’s what he tried to convince, anyway.

He was only trying to keep you safe! He hated punishing you, hated the way you thrashed and screamed at him in protest - that only meant he had to be rougher with you. You had broken into the most dangerous room in the apartment, afterall.

The kitchen.

There were far too many harmful objects in there!

Knives that could slice your delicate skin to shreds, forks that could jab into your body, hot stoves that could leave you with a nasty burn, and canned food stored too high up on the shelf that could fall and hit your head.. It was for your protection that the kitchen was off-limits to you!

Plus, Izuku, your oh-so kind and sweet boyfriend, had no problem with cooking you meals to eat together. In fact, he loved it!

He felt accomplished whenever you'd hum in approval at his cooking, or even turned on if that slutty mouth of yours just so happened to moan around your utensil. 

Those were the nights dinner was forgotten.

But you had been foolish, entering the kitchen for a midnight snack whilst Izuku was out on patrol. Your sneaky little self thought you were clever, leaving no trace of your betrayal.

Until you were awoken hours later by a green glow, blood running cold as a pair of murderous neon eyes stared into yours.

It had to be one of the scariest sights to date.

His pupils were shrunk, green electricity buzzing around his large body. He hovered over your trembling body, a wrapper in between his two gloved fingers.

He was so close, your noses brushed together.

You swore he could see into your soul, as well as see the fear in your (E/C) eyes.

“What is this, (Y/N)?” He had asked innocently, hurt coating his words.

“I-” you wanted to make an excuse, protest, say it wasn’t yours, but every single letter died on your tongue as his face pressed closer, a sadistic smile overtaking his features.

“You didn’t.. You didn’t go into the kitchen, did you?”

His hot, minty breath blew all over your face as he spoke, and you shriveled back in fear as insanity crossed his expression in that way you were far too familiar with.

The giggles bubbled in his throat as he tried to fight logic with delusion, “It wasn’t you, right? Someone broke in, didn’t they? You wouldn’t break my trust, would you?”

His voice was cracking, fingers digging into the flesh of the bed beneath you as his eye began to twitch.

He stared down at you, curly green hair brushing against the sides of your face, waiting far too long for an answer he would never get. His bottom lip wobbled, feat tears welling up in his eyes and falling onto your pale cheeks as his body shook with anger and sadness.

He was already stressed about the following mornings mission, and to come home to his princess betraying his trust was not something he enjoyed.

And so, you were punished.

But he had promised you wouldnt be locked in there for long, he knew how you feared the dark. He had conditioned you to fear it, after all. It was his greatest accomplishment.

You were always so willing to cuddle into him when the lights were off.

A few hours turned into nearly an entire day, the only indication you had of this was past experiences, skin around your wrists rubbed raw from the metal cuffs, and the unusual sting of your ass and bare legs burning from the freezing tile beneath you.

That was the least of your worries, though.

Worst of all - the flame, which was holding you together and keeping you from crying out for help to those who might hear you in this soundproof room, which would no doubt get you a harsher punishment, was about to die out.

That flame, albeit small, was your only hope of surviving this.

Izuku was typically a very reliable person, it was strange for him to not keep his word to you. He devoted his being to you, worshipped the ground you regrettably walked upon, why would he break his own promise?

The thought of being trapped in the dark, the echo of your chains taunting your delirious mind had you close to tears. You didn’t want to be alone here anymore.

You watched in horror as the flame got smaller and smaller, tears now rolling down your cheeks as you pleaded under your breath for it to last longer.

The air vents around you provided enough oxygen for it to survive, but that damn oil..

Where was he?! 

Suddenly, the door to his apartment flew open, giggles seeping through the house and teasing your ears.

Then, there was no more light.

A screech tore from your throat, a desperate call of his name as you thrashed around, tears pouring from your eyes.

You felt as if you couldnt breathe as your head whipped around the space, desperate for more air and light as your lungs seemed to scream.

You couldnt feel the cold chill of the floor anymore, body numb as adrenaline pumped through your veins.

What was in the dark?

How big was this space again?

Rather, how small was it?

What was that noise?

Did something just touch you?

There was wind, there was wind, no. A cold chill?

Oh god what was that-

Loud, clumsy footsteps made their way closer and closer to the locked metal door. You sobbed as your heard the jingle of keys, metal scraping against metal as he fumbled with inserting them into the lock.

Until finally, you were basked in the honey-dew glow of the bedroom.

You fought to control your breathing as he dropped to his knees, taking far too long for your liking to get the cuffs off.

But at least now you know why he took so god damn long.

You could smell the putrid miasma of alcohol wafting off him the moment he stepped into the darkroom, tainted with the salty effluvium of rainwater as it dripped onto your skin from his damp, messy hair.

Rage bubbled inside you as he giggled once more at your tear-stained cheeks, “D-did yoou miss mee?” He slurred, a giddy smile on his face as the stale stench of what he had been drinking all night circled around your head like a rotten wreath.

Instead of answering, like you knew you should have, you turned your head towards the door, soaking in the light you were previously deprived of. Even if it was just a mere minute.

At your silence, his smile quickly turned into a frown. Big, forestry green eyes welled up with sadness, bottom lip trembling, “(Y-Y/N)?” He couldnt help but reach out, scarred fingers wishing to wipe away those stray tears from your face.

You missed him.

That’s why you were crying, surely.

He wanted to comfort you, say that he was there now and that you could both cuddle until twinkling dawn.

You weren’t alone anymore.

He was all you needed, and he was right beside you.

He’ll always be there for you, and you’ll always be there for him.

Because you love each other.

“D-Don’t cry-”

His cold hand was smacked away, and his usually sturdy body was shoved back so that you could scramble out of the freezing closet.

You needed space.

More room to breath.

To be on flooring that didnt feel like ice cutting into your flesh.

Hell, you were sure the skin that had the unholy misfortune of touching the floor were burned red at this point from how long you had to sit there.

Not to mention your poor wrists, you couldnt even bear the sight of them being so raw. You were pretty sure they would bleed if you even touched them. Your body was screaming in pain, stomach growing for food, mouth parched from not being given water so that you wouldnt make a mess on the floor.

You were weak, shaking, and afraid.

That bastard had the gall to say not to cry, to look concerned when he knew damn well how much you absolutely despised the dark.

At first it was a childish fear, but the moment he snatched you from your regular life, that fear became a reality. There were countless nights you’d be punished by being left alone in the dark.

He didnt want to hurt you, no, and he never has, but damn if he hasnt conditioned you to be afraid. 

Storms were the worst.

What was once a peaceful white noise turned into a terrifying nightmare once the moon rose in the sky.

There were times you were locked in that closet during violent storms, screaming and begging to be let out.

Sometimes you were, other times you werent as lucky.

Though it was only raining right now, each pitter-patter of the droplets against the window or balcony made hairs on your neck stand up. The sound was previously muted in the closet, but now it was hitting you like a freight train on a track that never seemed to end.

You heard him scramble to his feet as you wiped your tears away, the creak of the floorboards as he stumbled towards you.

A subtle bang made you jump, his foot no doubt hitting the chest at the end of your bed. Everso the clumsy one, even in an illuminated room.

Suddenly, he was right behind you, arms wrapping tightly around your middle as his head dropped to your shoulder, nuzzling his cheek against your neck.

Perhaps it would have been pleasant, comforting, even, if he wasnt soaked to the bone. The cold water from his dark grey, long-sleeved sweater was now seeping into your own thin clothes, freezing wet hair sending shivers down your spine and it presses against your heated, sensitive skin. Some drops even went down your back, ripping a gasp from you.

This wasnt comforting at all.

This was suffocating.

You squirmed in his grasp, desperate to get the hell away from him.

You were already pissed, and him wrapping around you and squeezing you tight like a snake to its prey was the cherry on top of your disastrous sundae.

With a grunt, you used the rest of what little strength you had left to rip yourself free from his ‘hug,’ nearly tripping on your own two feet as you rushed away from him.

He pouted at you as you shoved yourself into a corner of the room, finding comfort in being able to see all around you, no surprise attacks from behind, only what was in front of you.

Your breath was heavy as you glared at him, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching.

Truly, you had some nerve.

But it was hard to help it.

He broke a promise.

He never does that, and yet in your time of need- he wasn’t there for you.

For once.

He knew damn well you were locked up, scared shitless, expecting him to return home in a few short hours, yet here he is - looking absolutely clueless as to why you were suddenly so angry at him.

Tears streamed down his drunkenly flushed cheeks, hurt by how you shoved him away again.

All he wanted to do was snuggle you, his body exhausted yet numbed by the alcohol still burning in his tummy.

“Where..” you started, voice low, scratchy, and dripping with venom that reached deaf ears. “Where have you been!”

Just as he was about to open that mouth of his, no doubt about babble nearly incoherently - form logical excuses with evidence to back him up, say he lost track of time which you know damn well he never did, you shut him up.

You hated dealing with him when he was drunk, hell - you hated dealing with his obsessive ass most days.

But drunk? Drunk he got worse. He was clingy, more emotional, and worst of all? He didn’t have a filter.

He always managed to hide those more sinister desires under that sweet mask of his - until alcohol brought it out.

God, the smell of it made you sick to your stomach, but luckily you didn't have any food to throw up.

No thanks to him.

“What the fuck, Midoriya?!” You leered at him, noticing quickly the way his eyes darkened in that way they always did when you referred to him by his family name - the name he hated being called by you of all people.

“I’ve been trapped in that room all goddamn day! You said it’d be a few hours? What the hell happened to that! Look at the fucking time! Nine hours! Nine hours I’ve been stuck in my own personal hell! I can’t feel my fucking legs because of you!”

“I-” he attempted to start, the firm grip he had on his sanity quickly loosening with every shout you threw at him.

You cut him off, again, pent up rage now overtaking your sense of reason and fear, “What the hell happened?! You know what! I don’t even care! Not only did you,” You pointed a trembling finger at his stilled body, “break a promise! Something you swore you would never fucking do, you also had the nerve at laugh at me as I was trembling in fear!”

You looked like a mess, body shaking and bent over itself, one arm clutched around your waist as if to hold yourself together as that accusing finger stayed trained on him. Your hair was messy, frizzy, soaked with sweat and oily as hell from being denied a shower. Your clothes, thin and girly - much to your utter distaste, but to his satisfaction - now damp thanks to his carelessness.

All of this was because of him.

It always was.

Every single thing that went wrong in your life always seemed to be because of him nowadays.

You couldnt believe you let yourself fall for that misleading smile all those years ago, only to end up like this.

A mouse in a lions den.

But hell if that would stop you from squeaking your heart out till his razor-sharp claws ultimately caged you back in.

“Do you see my wrists?!” with a strangled sob, you held up both of your arms to show him the mess he already knew was his fault, “look at them! They hurt so fucking much because you left me in those disgusting handcuffs! This is all your fault!”

Your knees were wobbling so bad you swore your legs would give out at any second, but you’d be damned if you didnt hold your ground to this lunatic.

True, some days he was nice, normal, even. But days like these, or days much worse, you were reminded of just who he really was.

A monster was stretching it. He never intentionally tried to hurt you, your friends, or even your family.

No, he just stole you from your apartment in the dead of night, convinced the reason you were crying was because of the thunderstorm and not because some psycho snatched you from your window like some sort of 1970’s movie trope. That night he cradled your thrashing body to his hard chest with his strong arms, cooing at you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you begged to be let go. You were just scared of the storm~ He would keep you safe~ He is the number one hero, afterall~

That was all utter bullshit, straight from the beginning.

And even now he was still wrapped in the delusion that you loved him as much as he loved you.

A fated pair.

Please.

But you still held on to the pathetic hope that one day he’d snap out of it, return to the Izuku you knew from the beginning and not the person who now stood a few feet in front of you, staring with cold, emotionless eyes.

“I’m sorry.” he says impassively, face as blank as a new canvas - unreadable and dangerous in every way imaginable. It was hard not to feel as if he was just waiting to strike, already calculating his next moves like he always seemed to do. It was far easier to deal with an angry Izuku than one where you couldn’t read his already complex emotions, thoughts, anything. He was the definition of expressive, and it truly took a fuckin bullet to the back of his head for him to be like this.

So clearly, you hit a nerve.

Wonderful.

“Oh?” Despite knowing the implications of the situation you found yourself in, it was impossible not to laugh at such a pathetic fucking apology.

Knowing him, he probably was sorry, deep down inside. You knew he didn’t like seeing you hurt, especially if it was because of his doing, and yet- you pressed on. 

Pent up anger was a nasty thing to deal with, especially since it’s been brewing inside you for so long.

“Are you now? You don’t fucking seem sorry! If you were really sorry, you wouldnt have done it! But look where we are! You’re such a fucking-!”

“Shut up.” he growls out borderline maliciously, stumbling slightly as he turns to walk out the door. He was clearly fed up, his strong hands clenched into threatening fists, but so were you. Even if you were undeniably frightened to confront him, you wouldn't let that stop you from pushing yourself off the wall - your safe space - and wobbling after him.

“Look at you! You can’t even walk right! How drunk are you, huh? Washing away your feelings again, are you? What about my feelings! Huh?!”

You were pushing it.

You really were.

The entire house felt it, the air chillingly still as Izuku had to grind his teeth together so as to not lash out at you. 

He didn’t want to.

That was the last thing he wanted to do, but all that stress and self-hatred previously washed away was coming back up to the burning surface that cages his discretion.

Heavy breaths blew out his nostrils as he made his way to the living room, desperate for you to get the hint from his hunched over body that he wanted you to fuck off.

Yeah, he messed up, deep down he knew he did but currently his mind was far too clogged to even begin to comprehend it.

You were like an annoying mosquito, your words morphing into a persistent buzz.

He was ignoring you, and that made you livid.

He always ignored you when your problems were deemed irrelevant, or when he found you were being far too vexatious.

He always did this, always.

You were trapped in a cell with some asshole who didn't even want to listen to you.

Obviously, you had enough.

Typically you’d back off, go fume in another room or punch the wall till the skin around your knuckles tore open and dripped blood everywhere, making him snap out of whatever state he was in just to suffocate you in his toxic love.

Oh how life proved to be full of surprises.

A low growl of your own slithered passed your teeth, eyes practically burning red as if you prayed you had a quirk that could do something against him.

“You’re a selfish bastard! You fucking piss-poor excuse of a hero-!”

SLAP!

A shrill scream tore from your raw throat, the echo of skin burning against skin dizzying you as you were thrown back onto the floor.

Boiling hot tears streamed down your face as you sobbed out of pure fear, body shaking uncontrollably and you shuffled backward, desperate to get yourself as far away from him as you could currently manage.

It had all happened so fast, you didn't even have time to register it as it occurred.

One moment his hands were gripping the back of the couch with such strength you could see his knuckles turn a ghostly white, and the next, crackling, neon-green lightning surrounded his body, illuminating the dim apartment in a slimy glow. Before you even had a chance to register just what happened, he whipped his head around, his eyes, typically blown wide with sickening love and sparkling under delusional illusions, were narrowed and glowing in a way that sent shivers of immense regret down your spine. His arm whipped back with his hand, the very hand that delivered a painfully paralyzing slap.

He always spoke with his hands, and you just happened to be too close to him at that moment.

The reddended skin of your cheek burned, and you swore you could feel more than just tears streaming down it.

You were stuck shaking on the floor, imaginary bile rising in your throat, and all you could do was stare at him with wide, bloodshot and terrified eyes.

He had never laid a hand on you like that before, you didnt know what to think.

He always promised to do you no intentional harm, to never lay a finger on you with intentions of making you cry out in pain.

He had never acted so feral and out of line before.

It.. it scared you in a way you never felt before.

The gap between you grew, you really were just a mouse trembling in a lion's den.

“P-princess-” he shakily called out, voice weak and uneven, quirk diminishing into thin air like it never was there in the first place.

His own eyes were wide and filled with immense regret, tears already pouring down his flushed, freckled face.

He took one step forward, and you scrambled back, hand coming up to touch at your cheek, shock making you feel faint at the sight of blood coating your trembling fingertips.

You felt sick once again, empty stomach feeling as if it was collapsing in on itself to push even the tiniest bit of nonexistent food out.

You didnt know what to do.

Choking on your own sobs, you tried desperately to shuffle away from him, but he only came closer.

You cried out the moment he dove at you, your hands clasped together tightening against your chest as if to hold yourself together as this bear of a man wraps his arms cold, soaked arms protectively around you, his large shoulders violently shaking as he buried his snotty, tear stained face deep into your unruly tresses.

The stench of alcohol burned your nostrils, edging you on to try and push his heavy chest away. You tried, but you failed miserably, resulting in his arms pulling you even closer to his sweaty and damp body. It was disgusting.

“L-let go of me!” you wailed, your own tears stinging your eyes as your vision blurred and you could no longer tell just what you were staring blindly at, the dimness of the living-room paired with the suffocating embrace of your captor swallowing you whole.

You couldnt take it.

You could barely breathe at this point.

“p-p-ple .. plea-s-se..!” your cries intertwined with his own desperate ones as he babbled nearly incoherently on about how sorry he was, how he never meant to do something so horrible.

“I’m not a monster!” he howled out, desperate words seeping with ululation.

He was desperately trying to convince himself of that.

He wasn’t talking to you at all.

He was talking to himself.

He wasn’t a monster.

He wasn’t a monster.

He’s not like him.

He’s not like that piece of filth.

No, he’s so much better.

He’s a good man.

No, no, he’s not a monster.

He’s your hero.

He could never purposely harm you.

No.

It was an accident.

An accident.

You’d understand.

He knew you would!

You always understood him.

You were like two peas in a pod!

You forgave him, surely.

Yes.

Yes!

You did the moment he hugged you, the moment he started comforting you.

He was a good man.

How could you not forgive him?

He loved you so, so, so much.

You knew that-

You knew he would never do such a thing.

His breathing was even, eyes wide and straining as he stared at the floor, a crooked smile on his face as he repeated the words over and over again in his twisted mind.

He never met to hurt you.

No.

He didnt.

“Plea-” you tried once more, biting your wobbling lip as he squeezed you even tighter.

“No, no, no, no, no, no..” he heaved out, hand coming up to gently pet your oily hair as if to calm you. His head shook back and forth in your hair, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m so sorry, honey.”

There was nothing you could do.

You were stuck alone in a mouse trap, the cold, metallic bar snapped down on top of your frail neck.

There was no escape.

There never was.

His form of ‘love’ far too strong for you to even attempt to.

And so, you gave up. 

Just like you always did.

There was no point in resisting him.

Sticky blood trickles down your raw cheek, dripping down onto the chilled bare skin of his neck, still cold from the damp clothes he wore, instantly catching his wondering attention.

“You.. you’re bleeding?” he whispered guiltily, already feeling a new wave of salty tears building up in the corner of his eyes.

His large left hand trailed up the skin of your neck, idly collecting the thin trail of red liquid onto his fingertips and smearing a path up to your jawline, stopping the moment your shivering form flinched.

He frowned at the red mark taking up half your beautifully innocent face, a small cut resting in the middle of it where no doubt the ring he foolishly wore as an accessory swiped.

Guilt made his stomach churn, the familiar burn of acid rising in his throat.

A deep inhale, and he swallowed it down, arm still wrapped around you, languidly rubbing your back as he stared with nothing short of pity at your wrecked state.

Your lips wobbled, holding in a reply as you force yourself to look into the vast abyss of darkness that was the hallway of your apartment instead of his orbs gleaming with concern.

Concern.

Concern for something he caused.

At least he had a heart, but you were still scared shitless and wanted nothing more than to run away. You were still fighting to regulate your breathing.

His thumb suddenly pressed against the slap mark, ripping a yelp from your throat as your head flung back to avoid any more contact. It was then that you noticed a pounding headache echoing inside your skull, yet another reason to aid in the water running down your face. Pain consumed your body, and you wanted nothing more than to escape this shell you were trapped in.

Openly chewing on his lip, both of his arms went back around you, cradling your delicate form to his chest.

Without a word, he stood up, practically forcing you to have to wrap your bare legs around his waist to keep yourself steady, something you were trained to do by him. He loved it when your legs were around his waist whenever he picked you up.

It became a regrettable second nature.

Heavy foot steps brought you back to your bedroom, and then into the bathroom connected to it.

Your fears crept up your spine at the pitch black room you were forced into, remembering how you were in a similar position just a few minutes ago.

When would this cycle end?

Ah. 

It wouldnt, would it?

You were set delicately down atop the cold marble counter as if you were a fragile piece of glass, which, in many ways, you were. The tears had at least stopped, but your body continuously shook like a chihuahua, your breathing still hard to control as fumbled around mindlessly with your fingers to serve as a distraction.

He flipped the light on, momentarily blinding your sensitive gaze with its bright light.

Sniffing, you wiped at your nose, watching as he walked about the bathroom, grabbing a wash cloth just to run it under cool water. The rain was still heavily pouring just outside the wall mixed with the loud splatters of the stream against the white sink. It would have been calming had cold water not splashed up onto your bare thighs, making goosebumps prickle along your skin. Your thighs were nearly numb at this point.

After ringing most of the water out, he held it up to your cheek, staring at you.

Taking the cue, you hesitantly took the cool, wet cloth from his grasp and gingerly pressed it to the swelling skin on your face. You hiss out in pain, dry sobs wracking your body at the stinging pain and the fact that he was still far too close for you to currently handle.

The pain on your cheek paired with the numbing cold was a good distraction.

You chewed on your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut, freehand gripping tightly at the hem of your shirt as you listen to him fumble around in the cabinet hanging over to the left.

You jumped the moment you felt his larger fingers ghost over the ones holding the cloth to your cheek, cautious (E/C) eyes opening ever so slightly as you looked over at him.

You couldnt help but feel idiotic as you suddenly felt flustered at the intense gaze he was giving you, eyes now gleaming viridescent in the white light of the bathroom almost staring right into your soul.

It was like he was reading you, pulling words off your own frail pages just so he could recite them to you.

He did this often.

Keeping silent, staring for long periods of times as he tried out scenarios in his head of the words he was going to say.

It gave you chills, but yet, it made you feel like you were the center of his drifting attention.

The sun his planets revolve tirelessly around, repeating the same cycles like a record forever skipping on repeat.

In these moments, though, he became an enigma.

Not exactly something your fragile state of mind entirely needed right now.

You shivered when his palm came to cup your soft jawline, thumb absentmindedly tracing over your parted lips.

His mouth opened, ready to say something, but he stayed quiet.

Mouth shutting, he leaned forward, tentatively bringing you into another hug.

“I’m sorry.” he repeated, the words nearly as quiet as your stilled breath, but you had nothing to say to it. And he knew it.

He was used to you staying silent.

He would prefer it most of the time.

So he could sink into his fantasies, the deluded fantasies that you loved him wholeheartedly, that you chose to stay silent as to not hurt his feelings, and always forgave him no matter what.

That you would forever and always be his.

He wouldnt give you the choice not to be.

He wouldnt let you leave when you’re his favorite person in the whole wide world.

The only one he needed.

And he was the only one you needed.

Yes.

Of course.

You didn’t need anyone else but him.

And he didn’t need anyone else but you.

So what if a few more people died because of his mistake, he would capture Ghoul eventually. Regardless, he would always come home to you.

Always.

And that’s all he needed.

He chucked against your neck, having buried it in the crook as his mind slipped through his shaky fingertips.

The Big Bad Wolf and his Little Red Riding Hood.

God how he loved the comparison.

Perhaps he was addicted.

Addicted to you.

Even now, as he inhaled your sugary sweet, natural scent stained with the metallic smell of dried blood.

Pulling back, he gazed into your hesitant eyes, delicately resting his forehead against yours.

His hair, now dry and no longer dripping with salty rain, tickled your skin, making you involuntarily take in a deep breath.

Closing his eyes once more, he soaks in the moment of your warm body in his frigid embrace, nothing else mattered to him.

Just you.

Only you.

“L-let me see your cheek,” he asks softly, words not as wobbly as before,  afraid that if he spoke too loudly in such a thin atmosphere, everything would shatter abruptly like glass.

Your body moved on instinct as if you were used to doing as he asked immediately no matter what, pulling the cool cloth away from your burning cheek.

Resisting the urge to sniffle and flinch away, you allow him to rewet the cloth, holding still as he dabs lightly at the small wound.

“I know it hurts,” he breathes out, “shh, shh, it’s okay.” it was always so strange how his voice still managed to calm your nerves even after all you’ve been through.

Deep down, you knew he was still that loving and energetic boy you met back at that coffee shop.

If only you knew how sinister and twisted he could really be.

Perhaps.. perhaps you wouldn’t be in such a situation now.

But there was never any point in pondering the what-ifs.

All you could do was fight your mind from seeking normalities in such a relationship as this, if you could even call it that.

You wouldn’t succumb to his desires like you always did.

You wouldnt lose yourself.

No.

You couldn’t let that happen.

Or was it too late already?

You hissed when you felt the stinging seer of rubbing alcohol dotted onto your cut, cleaning the wound.

“It’s okay.” he repeats, cooing to you with a reassuring smile that should have made you feel sick all over again.

You let him apply antibiotic ointment and a small cheek bandage, his hands shaky yet careful. You could say he has experience in applying bandages.

It was uncomfortable as it sat on your raw skin, but it’s not like you were going to go and rip it off. That would feel like ripping off a wax strip on a sunburn.

Humming, he gingerly wipes away the dried blood on your neck with the same washcloth, not minding how blood-stained the innocently white fabric became. 

Next came your still aching wrists. There wasn’t much he could do for your legs, but at least he had roll-on bandages on standby.

Turning the cold tap on, he lets you run them under cool water before gently dabbing the stray droplets away, careful not to press too hard.

He really needed to invest in softer handcuffs, it’s just- those were the only ones he had, and he didn’t use them often. Besides, it never got this bad before. But that wasn’t a good excuse.

He’d have to order some online tomorrow..

Applying more ointment around the area, the kind that offers instant relief, he wraps your smaller wrists up as best he could, cringing himself whenever you’d flinch.

He’d make it up to you.. Pancakes in the morning, perhaps?

Izuku then begins to sluggishly put away everything he brought out of the cabinet, tossing what needed to be tossed into the trashcan.

He was slow, almost as if he was trying to keep his balance, which he no doubt was. 

Standing in front of you once again, he wrapped his arms around you, whispering “up” in your ear.

It was something he would always say when he wanted you to wrap your arms and legs around him so he could carry you like a baby.

But who were you to refuse?

It wasn’t as if he couldnt pick you up without your limbs wrapped around him, it was more for your comfort rather than his convenience.

So, tentatively, you wrapped your still shaking arms around his neck, doing the same with your legs around his bent waist.

“Good girl.” he praised as he began walking back into the bedroom, stopping just at your side of the bed to place you down at the edge.

Numbly, you let him remove your rain-soaked clothes from all the hugging, sitting on the bed in just your panties as you watched him toss the clothes in the hamper by the door

It wasn’t the first time he insisted on treating you like a child who needed help changing, but at least you didn’t have to walk.

It was hard to remember if it was a good or a bad thing that you didn’t care about being nude in front of him anymore, not even bothering to hide your chest as he came back over with a fresh set of clothes - the strawberry patterned pajamas he always seemed to adore you wearing.

You always looked so innocent in them. The shirt is far too large for your frame, the sleeves hanging off your hands and the large v-neck exposing your collar bones and parts of your shoulders. The bottoms were the regular run of the mill pajama pants, soft as cotton and comfy as hell.

The top truly was the part of the look that tied it all together.

He couldn’t help but smile as your arms immediately raised as he pulled the shirt out of the pile, making quick work of slipping it over your cute head and helping your arms into the sleeves.

He liked to take care of you.

You needed him to, after all.

You were his innocent, helpless little darling, after all.

Pulling your pants up, he guided your body down into a resting position, dragging the thick, grey, and black patterned comforter over your stilled body.

Such a good girl.

He tucks loose strands of messy (H/C) hair that fell across your face behind your ear, being mindful of the wound.

He stares at it for a moment, his expression holding that of worry and regret.

Pushing off the bed, he stumbles his way to the kitchen in the dark, having turned off the light as he went, the layout of the apartment burned to memory so he could easily avoid furniture.

In the kitchen, he opened the freezer and grabbed an ice pack, one he would commonly use on his own sore muscles and bruises. It hurt his heart knowing he was the reason you had to use it for the first time.

After wrapping it in some paper towels, he trudges his way back into the dark bedroom, eyes wracking over your balled up form, covers bunched over you like a shell.

“Put this on your cheek..” he whispered, placing the pack just in front of your face.

He would love to be the one to hold it to your cheek, but his mind was still hazy, and his words were still slurred. Events could sure as hell sober you up a bit, but damn did that nausea always come back crashing in through the brittle window full force when you’d least expect it.

Rummaging through the drawers once more, he picked up some of his own fresh clothes and made his way into the bathroom again.

All he wants is to sleep, but he also didnt want you to smell dried sweat and rain on his being throughout the night.

He knew you missed him, him and his warmth, you always did, right? No question about it. You must be longing for him even now. 

Wanting him to hold and comfort you just like always.

Numbed adrenaline pumped in his veins as he stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away his filth and regrets.

God, it felt so good to be able to somewhere warm for once.

The entire night he’s felt nothing but cold.

Not even the fire in his belly or the breath stolen from his lungs could’ve warmed him up.

He was mad at himself. Mad that he lost control and hurt the one thing that mattered the most to him.

Mad that he let himself get disgustingly drunk.

Mad that he walked in the rain like a dumbass just to soak your clothes and make you feel as cold as him.

But at the moment, too many thoughts were flying in his mind for him to properly think, no, he couldnt really even say he was thinking at all.

He was just letting the water splatter on the back of his neck, forehead resting on the cold shower tiles and he watched as water swirled down the drain like a whirlpool. His hair stuck to his cheeks like glue, but he couldn’t find himself caring.

Absentmindedly, his fingers brush across the fresh scar on his broad shoulder.

He swore the longer he stood there, watching the clear flow of water, the looser his grip on himself became.

He couldnt really say he felt anything at all anymore.

When did he lose himself?

Was he ever even really found?

Ah.

With you.

You were the missing piece in his complicated and skull biting puzzle, the one who made him whole and lit up his dull life. You were the reason he felt things anymore, you were the reason he still managed to get up and save people with a clear conscious.

You always had such a positive impact on his life, and he knew he had just as good a one on yours.

A wobbly smile tore his flushed face in two, you both really did need eachother.

He was so happy to have you in his life.

Knowing you’d never leave him.

Turning the boiling hot water off, he stepped out, the plushness of the bath-mat embracing his wet feet as water continued to pour down his nude body.

It felt, it felt so hot suddenly.

His breath came out in exaggerated pants, hands sweeping his hair from his face as the burn of bile rose in his throat.

Lunging for the toilet, he emptied his stomach into the glistening white bowl.

Gasping for air, Izuku whipped his mouth on the back of his hand, still trying to catch his breath as he fumbled to flush.

God, he needed to sit down.

Shakily turning the bathroom faucet on, he washed his hand, making quick work of brushing his teeth before lazily drying himself off.

Ignoring the other clothes he brought in, the toned hero simply pulled on a pair of black boxers before walking out of the bathroom.

Green eyes immediately looked at your form, just to see the soft rise and fall of your chest as you soundly slept, the ice pack sitting comfortably on your cheek.

You looked so adorable.

You always did.

Smiling once more, he walked over to the bed, pulling back the sheets just to slide his larger, warm body in and next to your own.

He sighs blissfully the moment he tugs you into his embrace, relishing in the feeling of your soft body against him.

Removing the icepack from your cheek, not wanting you to awake to a cheek burning from the cold, he places it on the nightstand before snuggling closer to you.

You always fit so perfectly in his big arms.

You were meant to be by his side.

And you loved it, didn’t you?

Eventually, he fell asleep, soft snores echoing around the quiet room filled with the downpour of rain still pouring down outside the large glass windows,

But you were still wide awake.

It was hard to remember the last time you got a good night’s rest, especially when the room was spine-chillingly dark..

Hard to remember what life was like before you even met your own personal nightmare.

You were used to the exhaustion, the dark circles kissing at the skin under your eyes becoming normal the day you were brought here.

Oh, how foolish you were.

You should have locked your window that fateful night.

But heroes are quite stealthy, aren’t they?

Was this even reality at this point? Or all just a figment of your imagination, protecting you from the true horrors before your very eyes.

Either answer wasnt one you wanted.

But you never had a choice.

Tears slipping from your eyes like they always seemed to do, you stared longingly off into the distance, the warmth pressed against your back pulling you further into your own bubbling madness.

All it took was a signal thought for this to all become normal.

For the pain to wash away with your tears.

‘Maybe this is ok.’

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Best Cold Oil Press Machine For Sale In India

In recent years, there has been a significant rise in the demand for natural and healthier edible oils. Traditional methods of oil extraction often involve processing techniques that use heat, leading to a loss of essential nutrients and flavors in the oil. To cater to the growing need for Cold-Pressed Oils, Sonar Appliances, a leading manufacturer of kitchen appliances, has introduced their innovative range of cold oil press machines in India.

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[sonarappliancesmanufacturer]

Cold Press Oil Machine Manufacturer, Supplier in Delhi, India

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Guilong manifold blocks Machinery Co., Ltd. is still the best hydraulic valve block manufacturer

manifold blockS machinery manufacturing Co., Ltd. is located in jinzhong city industrial park, Shanxi Province, located in China's largest hydraulic city - Ningbo, Zhejiang, the traffic is very convenient. Since its establishment, the company has delivered many high-quality products for the machinery industry, metallurgy, mining undertakings, and established a good reputation.

Guilong manifold blocks

Hydraulic system includes: hydraulic cylinder, hydraulic pump, hydraulic valve, hydraulic station, electro-hydraulic push rod, etc.

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[prettywordsyouleft]

Reconciliation - Part 5 (Final)

Pairing: Im Jaebum x reader

Genre: ex-lovers au / angst / romance / business au

Warnings: unprotected sex, mature content.

Reconciliation will be shared daily at 10am NZST.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

This was how you had originally imagined this trip. Waking up in Jaebum’s arms the following morning was sweeter than you could remember. And after spending a little too long in the shower cleaning up from last night, you both happily went into the breakfast buffet where you laughed and shared food. The light atmosphere continued throughout the day, as did the kisses, the hand-holding, and much later, the endless rides to Nirvana.

It was what you had hoped for all along. And with your trip closing tomorrow, you were satisfied that when you had first thought to come here, the things on your list had been checked off with today’s efforts.

However, those desires came from a time where you were happy to just follow Jaebum around. Since finding your independence, you had moments throughout the day and night where you were bothered, and a cold sense of dread would wash over you.

The dream had to end here, with the sand and sun.

You woke before Jaebum did the next morning and spent the time taking in every detail of the man you loved. Even with him showering you in all the affection that you had ever wished for, and knowing how deeply his own feelings ran for you, this time, it would be you who broke his heart first.

You wanted to memorise every inch of him, right down to his freckles and imperfections in case you never saw them up close like this again.

Eventually, the man holding you stirred out of his slumber, Jaebum blearily squinting at you and letting out a breath of relief. It pained you to think that he was counting his blessings to truly find you here at his side and no longer a dream as he had told you about.

“Why are you awake first?” he huskily asked, moving to catch your shoulders with his lips. He kissed your bare skin a couple of times before resting back onto his pillow. “I wanted to watch you instead.”

“Should’ve woken up earlier then,” you teased, taking his hand in yours and linking it together.

You felt the words you need to say at the back of your throat and you smiled, hoping that would ease your nerves.

Jaebum watched you and after frowning, he sat up a little. “You’re going to finally say it, aren’t you?”

“You knew?”

He nodded. “I kind of guessed. I mean, we fell back into one another as if the three months never passed us by. And I know that I’ve said some things that might lend you hope that it could improve between us.”

“It’s not even that I don’t want this, because I do. I want to be with you, wholeheartedly. You said that I was it for you. Well, I’m pretty sure it’s the same for me.”

“Then what is it?” he wondered, and you shifted so you could sit up as well. Once settled at his side, you began to play with his fingers, trying to find the right words. “You need time?”

“I need to find who I am. Things are scary but really good right now for me. I’m starting my new business and I’m looking forward to running it. And it’s not a being busy reason either, even though I know I’m going to be super busy.”

Jaebum nodded listlessly, and you could tell he was genuinely listening to you, though he face was devoid of emotion. He was simply closing himself off to help with the pain.

You pressed on. “I don’t want to fall back into you. I don’t want either of us to rely on the other the way we used to. I thought I only needed your validation and you felt you only needed me to comfort you. We’re both more than that.”

“So this is it for us? For good?” he breathed, and you blinked when you noticed how watery his eyes had become. “We leave the confessions, the feelings here in these sheets?”

“We’re ending it better this time around, don’t you think?” you bartered and Jaebum rubbed at his face. “I need to focus on myself. If I can’t even do that, then there’s no point in me trying to rediscover us.”

“I get it,” he answered, taking you in his arms right when you began to cry. “I don’t want to but I do. Just remember to find me when the time is right.”

“Maybe we’ll find each other when we least expect it, just like we did here.”

Time seemed to fly by once you were back to reality. You left the ground running and after a solid year of hard work, you could slowly reap the rewards. You were acknowledged as a bright, new CEO and your company was definitely catching heads from all around. By your second year of business, you could loosen off the steam you were moving with. Your products were making consistent sales and you had taken on your first overseas client.

Everything seemed to be working like a well-oiled machine.

Not only had you discovered your own style as a CEO, you excelled at it. You liked being able to support your team and motivate them to strive for bigger goals.

Much as you were doing with your personal life. You had taken up online courses alongside your job and although you were exhausted from time to time, you had developed a love for photography and passion for interior design. You already had future aspirations to branch out into design in the following year.

Right now though, you wanted to enjoy life at a slower speed and not watch it pass on by in the blink of an eye.

And there was no one else you would rather do that with than Jaebum.

It hadn’t been complete radio silence between you both. You had each compromised to emails, sending each other messages at least twice a month. You had learned through them that he had fostered some cats and was passionate about raising them, and his latest investor had backed him over the company you had once lost out to. He’d also started cooking lessons, opting to make it home in the evening to eat there instead of ordering to his office each night.

Neither of you talked of what more you wanted from each other and about relationships. You had on several occasions almost emailed him asking him if he was seeing anyone but each time you chided yourself for seeking out information that could lead to complicating things. And you really didn’t want to do that if you weren’t ready to commit.

Standing near the gate for your impending flight, you focused on snapping the sunset out the large windows that was casting brilliant light over the aeroplanes nearby, the land behind it looking magical just like the sky did. You were ready to feel the freedom that came with travelling and taste the delicious foods that your destination had in store for you. As you watched the sky change its colours right before you, it was hard to not get lost in the thought of your self-development. Standing here right now, you couldn’t be prouder of who you had become if you tried.

Still, the nagging voice that wanted to share your accomplishments with someone else pulled you back to reality and you gasped when you realised boarding had commenced. As you walked onto the plane, you tried not to get too excited about the impending trip and looked out for your seat number. You grinned when you found it and after pulling your bag strap over your head and putting your bag under your seat, you sat down, fussing with your seatbelt for a moment. The person travelling next to you was already seated and you sighed when you realised your belt was linked with theirs.

Tapping him on the shoulder, you waited until he turned to look at you, ignoring the way he stared at you. “Uh, my belt is trapped in yours somehow.”

“Y/N,” Jaebum breathed, sitting up properly as his eyes continued to remain wide. He didn’t react as you reached to undo the belt across him so you could get yours free, still staring at you until you waved a hand in front of his face.

“You okay?”

“I just… I’m not dreaming, right? The plane hasn’t taken off and crashed somewhere and this is the afterlife?” he blurted out and you gave him a look, aghast by his assumption.

“No, we’re very much so alive and we better stay that way!”

“Then, it’s happened again. Just like you said when we parted last time!” he continued, shaking his head with disbelief.

You tried not to laugh. “Oh yeah?”

“Well, I was invited to go on this trip, were you too?”

“I guess you could say that,” you mused, amazed that he hadn’t clicked onto it yet.

“Wait,” he finally said, pointing at you. “How come you’re not amazed to see me?”

“Maybe because I was not about to wait until fate would have us cross paths again and booked this trip for us,” you announced and Jaebum slowly grinned.

“Really? You want to spend time with me?”

“Should I go spend it with someone else?” you offered and Jaebum disagreed almost immediately, taking your hand in his. You shifted closer, smiling at him as he rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand affectionately.

“You know, when this trip is over, I’m not going to agree about parting ways again,” he told you and you grinned, leaning in so you could kiss his lips.

“Fate might have been late in bringing us back together but I’m not going to let anything – or one – pull us apart again.”

_________________

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[hardlyinteresting]

Honest

Part 2 of the chocolate kisses one shot series.  warnings: none? (maybe bucky in his feels) Mostly inspired by “I’d buy that dream” and “honest” which are both on the playlist for this series. Playlist here Series masterlist here

It’s early March and it’s been raining for a week straight at this point. He knows there are much worse things going on in the world. Hell, for a while he was half of the worse things, and when he wasn’t he was facing them; in his new “rehabilitated” life, the rain is what he chooses to complain about. And with the temperature never climbing above 50F there’s an unpleasant chill that he can’t seem to shake.  The chocolate shop is warm, and his shoulders relax the second the door swings shut behind him.  She’s singing under her breath while she sweeps

it doesn’t sound bad, and if it can be had, I’ll buy that dream You are a dream, he thinks. “Hi, Bucky,” she smiles leaning up on tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek, “I’m closing up early today--would you mind flipping the sign for me?” and they wor like a well-oiled machine, he pulls the blinds shut while she covers the window displays with little glass domes. He mops while she counts her till and records her sales in the big leather ledger as old as the store itself. 

She makes sure to take his hand in hers as she locks up and they start their walk. First, they stop at the cafe on the corner, it’s been 9 hours since she last had any caffeine, “that’s far too long,” she tells him.  His metal fingers stay slotted between hers as they continue towards the subway. Every so often he loosens his grip as if to say, you can let go if you want to. I wouldn’t blame you. she never does, if anything she holds on tighter, as tight as she can with her hand, only half the size of his. When they reach her door the cold sneaks back into his bones, his spine straightens, his hands shoved into his coat pockets as she unlocks the door to the building.  “You wanna come up?” she asks, she always asks. He always gives her some half-assed excuse about why he can’t, and beats himself up about it all the way home. All he wants to do is stay, to spend more time with her, especially if it staves off this damn cold feeling. Today he nods.  Her apartment is as bright and warm as she is. It’s a shoebox flat by all accounts. tiny kitchen, with a larger room serving as both a living room and bedroom, the bathroom at the other end of the room.  “I’m sorry--it’s kinda messy right now” she apologises moving a stack of books off the couch and onto her bedside table.  He shakes his head. It’s perfect. It’s her home and it fits her perfectly. Little green plants on the window sill, posters, photographs and art framed on the exposed brick walls wherever possible. He’s never been somewhere that felt more comfortable.  So they order take out, and he asks about the books she’s been reading. He asks her to show him her favourite parts, and she reads them aloud. She makes them teas latter on while they watch Casablanca. Her head finds his shoulder as she cuddles closer to his side, eyes lulling short halfway through the film. As the credits roll his does his best to lift her without jostling her too much, tucking her beneath her duvet. Reaching to turn off the bedside lamp her little hand reaches out, wrapping around his wrist, the metal cool to the touch beneath her fingers.  “Stay, you were keeping me warm”. There’s a moment after the light goes out that she worries he’s left. Maybe he didn’t hear her.  He hesitates a moment before sliding into bed behind her. Immediately she rolls over, burying her face into the crook of his neck, his worries of overstaying his welcome mostly dissolved as he relaxes, her fingers tracing shapes against his hip bone.  The long gone, Doll you’re keeping me warm, he thinks.