K/DA: The Reluctant Writer (Male Reader x Akali)

Truth: Part 1

You stared at the screen in front of you in complete astonishment. Your throat was dry and your palms were sweaty. You watched the video once more, forced to by the officers in front of you. It was camera footage from the hallway of the hotel. Jefferson was shaking Sona's hand, a huge smile plastered on his face. Sona was smiling as well, happy about something unknown to you. You came down the hallway, stumbling slightly, before rounding the corner. Jefferson reached out and touched Sona's face, as gentle as if he was petting a small insect, and ran his thumb under her eye. Had she been crying?

You rounded the corner and froze, standing for a full moment. Jefferson reached out to shake your hand, his smile never faltering. Neither of them looked like they had been caught in an act at all. You knew Jefferson and her were close, they had worked together for a while and she thought of him as a brother. You did not know Jefferson that well. Sure, you had had a couple drinks with him now and then whenever you were all together, but you did not really know him.

Now, seemingly unprovoked, you lunged at the smaller man with fists raised. You actually had to avert your eyes, the prospect of watching him being beaten to a bloody pulp was not a happy image.

Y/N: Okay! I get it.

The detectives stopped the video and folded up the pad, returning it to their side of the metal desk.

Detective Powers: Okay, want to explain what that was?

He was a medium-built blond man with piercing blue eyes and a rigid jawline. He played with a fountain pen in his left hand. His partner was a taller man with Black hair and a thick beard. In one of your stories, he would be the bad cop, big and mean, while Powers would be the good cop. It was time to see how well that played out.

Y/N: I. . . I don't know. From my perspective, he slapped Sona across the face right as I entered the room.

Your head still pounded from the hangover. The room's lights were too bright and your ears felt like they were ringing.

Detective Fischer: Well, as you just saw, that is not the case.

He spoke with a heavy German accent, which made sense.

Detective Powers: Look, I get it. Manager gets too clinging with the star, boyfriend gets jealous, we've seen it before. Nothin' to be embarrassed about. Just confess that's what happened and we can speed this up.

You sat for a moment, looking between the two. This did not seem like a normal interrogation, they had all the evidence they needed. They had you dead to rights and were still giving you this routine, why?

You didn't exactly feel bad about what you did to Jefferson, he had done something to warrant that reaction from you. You just couldn't think of what it might have been that Sona and the camera didn't pick up.

A/N: I. . . I don't know what you want me to say. You saw the camera feed, why do you need to know why I hit him?

Detective Powers: Because this doesn't add up, son. You acted drunk, you admitted that you were drinking. But when we did a blood test we found it completely clean. No trace of any alcohol or other substance in your system. Same with the urine sample. Now, how does that happen?

A/N: What?

Your mouth moved, trying to form words, but you didn't know what to say. You had been at the bar most of the night, talking to some guy that you could not remember the name of.

Detective Fischer: You said you were drinking. But, camera shows you leaving your room only five minutes before this. You do not go out to bar.

A/N: What? That can't be right. I went out, it felt like I was there for a couple of hours. I talked to some guy. Travis? I think his name was Travis?