Chapter Text
It's been 6 months of pure torture.
Ok, that's exaggerating a tad, but going from running your own cafe to a nondescript desk job felt like torture. You'd had to literally change everything about yourself. Your usual [h/c] hair was dyed a dull shade of brown as opposed to the shining mane you usually had, as well as cut a different way; your [e/c] eyes were changed using contacts; and you're usual clothing style was switched to corporate suits that blended you into your surroundings.
You were sure you were known as "who?" in the office, despite being there for over 5 months.
You honestly felt postal.
Letting out a groan, you lean back in your chair and look around. You didn't think it would take this long for Xanxus and them to finish their battling. It probably didn't.
A reoccurring thought popped up and you screwed your face up. Maybe he forgot about you...or worse, decided you were too much trouble and decided to let you rot in fucking Australia.
Yeah, Australia.
"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuggggghhhhhhhhhh!" you spun in your swivel chair, trying to dispel the thoughts when a paper bag was dropped onto your face.
Yelping, you fell off your chair and scrambled to your hands and knees, staring first at the paper bag, and the cinnamon roll that had tumbled out, to the black boots in front of you.
Your eyes followed the boots up long legs, up their body and stared into red eyes. Your eyes widened and he stared back before grunting out, "I couldn't find any that were better than yours."
Tears welled up and you stood as quickly as you could. You breathed heavily as he watched you, eyebrow raised in question.
You lunged at him, burying your face into his chest, and wrapped your arms around him while yelling, "ASSHOLE!"
He scoffed. "Missed you too."