Katsuki was taken - in every sense of the word. He loved his partner. He knew that much for certain. He wouldn’t stay with someone he didn’t love; he hated pretending, hated lies more than just about anything else. Maybe that was a little hyperbolic, but the sentiment stood.

Still, things weren’t good right now. It was a rough patch, and he felt it pressing in on him from all sides. He needed someone to talk to - someone outside of it, someone who could help him sort through his feelings, maybe even help him figure out how to fix what felt broken. It wasn’t fair to put that weight on a third party, and he knew it, but he didn’t know where else to turn.

So now he sat in your room.

Cross-legged on the floor, he absently fiddled with the strings of his sweatpants, gaze flicking up toward you where you sat on the bed. He didn’t look angry, or defensive - just uncertain in a way he rarely allowed himself to be. The words sat heavy in his chest, waiting to be said.