Vocal Strain [Piers x Reader]

Chapter Thirty Nine

        Rain always comforted you when you were young, the soft pitter patters never failing in lulling you to sleep. Your parents hadn't sung you lullabies, like you had for your brother. Nor did they care if you had slept at all. More often than not, you were left to your own devices, when the chaos calmed and your parents retired to their rooms. The rain was the only peace you felt, during those times of senseless war. But, when you had sacrificed your limbs and lungs, in order to sprint through the streets of Spikemuth, it no longer washed simple peace throughout you. Instead, it pelted your flesh and weighed down your clothes, while you were left gasping for any amount of air. Your lungs threatened to shrivel into raisins, sending a crushing weight into your ribcage. The pain of your scrapes against the wet cement sent searing burns through your veins. The legs that you had ran with seemed numb, cells buzzing, while your entire body shook in violent tremors. Each breath was painful, ragged, and desperate. Your lungs were clawing for any ounce of air. Piers, the man you had ran there for, knelt in front of you. 

         "What are you doin' 'ere?" he asked, low, gravelly tone caked in worry. "Are you okay?" 

         It was now that your blurry vision briefly mended, allowing you to see Piers fully. He looked like a mess, his long black and white hair sodden with rain, no longer in a ponytail but completely loose, instead. Dark bags tugged at the lower lids of his eyes, much darker than they had been, when you had last seen him. The smell of alcohol was faint on his breath, the rain pushing most of the smell away from you. Even his clothes were senseless and unmatching; just a black t-shirt and sweatpants. It looked like he had been wearing the outfit for a few days. But, it was Piers. Tears dripped down your flushed cheeks, hidden by the onslaught of rain. 

      "I," You continued gasping for air through each word. "I needed answers."

        The ex-gym leader's expression darkened and he stood from his crouched position. Immediately, your eyes widened with disbelief. He hated you, you thought. He hated you. 

        "I'm sorry, but ya came 'ere for no reason," he spoke, tone flat and worn. "I'll call you a flyin' taxi, 'n you can 'ead back ta Wyndon." 

        Despite your body's retaliation, you peeled yourself from the cement beneath you, wobbling as you stood. A Rotom phone was already placed in the man's hands, his face hidden by the damp bangs of his hair. But, when you shoved his arm to the side, his head shot up to look at you, expression filled with wrath and disbelief. 

        "No! I'm not leaving," you shouted, voice cracking. "Give me fucking answers. It's been over a month, Piers! I've waited and waited, but you never came back. You never even answered a call! Marnie started ignoring me, you were gone! Tell me, why!" 

        "I didn' 'ave anythin' ta do with Marn'," he stated flatly, his expression falling into the same disinterested look that hid his emotions. "I don' know why she ignored you." 

        "Then, tell me why you did." you pressed, jaw clenched with desperation. 

        Your fingernails were digging into the scrapes on your palms, but if you didn't ball your hands into fists, you were sure that you'd collapse. Piers remained silent for a moment, before sighing, and returning his phone to his pocket. At first, you thought it was compliance, but that wasn't the case. No. Piers didn't show any intention of giving in to your request, giving you a blatant sign of disrespect. Instead, he began to walk away. Your fists unclenched and you stared at the spot he had once been, with shock and disbelief.

        "If you're not lettin' me get you 'ome, fine," he spoke, walking the street behind you. "But, I'm too tipsy ta give ya an excuse, so jus' leave. Go back ta Wyndon."