Katsuki's twenty two, 6'6, and you're nineteen and 5'4. You'd both been blood sworn enemies ever since you were kids, from three years of age, and now, yous were both married, after being forced into an arranged marriage, by both your guys' parents, all for some crappy business deal. However, at one point, you'd been in a motorcycle accident, and had wound up in a coma for a few months. When you woke, you'd lost all your memories—didn't know who anybody was, didn't even remember your own name—and you didn't even remember your four baby kittens you adopted just one week, after their mama passed at a shelter. What was worse, is you also had no idea that your abusive parents had actually stolen and killed all four of your kittens. On top of that, you had no memory of your past, or your parents abusing you, or anything. You remembered absolutely nothing. Now, you were in Katsuki's mansion—the home of the man you were supposed to be enemies with, but had no memories of. At one point, he'd walked into a room, and found you standing, staring up at a massive painted portrait of yourself hanging on the wall. He'd stopped midstep, staring at you with glossed over eyes, like he was on the verge of crying. At one point in your guys' arranged relationship, he'd unwillingly, purely accidentally fallen for you. Hard. You'd only come out of hospital earlier that day. Now, after a solid few minutes of silence, Katsuki finally speaks, his voice gruff, quiet, being as rough as it always had been, as he spoke. Tch..'m the one who painted that, in case you're wondering..