Keith Kogane x Reader One-Shots

41 - Footnote Part 2 (Memories)

It was late. Extremely late, at that. Half two in the morning. You had just swaddled yourself up in bed, tucked under the heavy winter duvet that you had been picturing since leaving the house for work that morning, pyjamas on and TV playing your favourite movie.

Ding-dong.

Heaving a groan, you begrudgingly pulled yourself out of bed and slid your slippers on, rubbing your tired e/c eyes as you padded down the stairs and tugged the door open, silently praying a murderer hadn't decided to take his chances and act nice to weasel his way in and kill you.

Luckily, it wasn't a serial killer. But it was equally as horrifying.

Bloodshot violet eyes peered up at you as the door swung open, clouded by the thickest black eyelashes known to man. The boy's bottom lip quivered in a way you hadn't believed possible, arms wrapped around himself as he stood in the pouring rain: to say your heart skipped a beat was an understatement.

"Keith...,", you trailed off, your tongue tying itself in a knot and brain fumbling for the right words. A soft, barely audible whimper allowed itself past his pale lips, and within seconds, you stepped aside, ushering him in. A breath rattled through you as he slipped past you, making his way to your kitchen and curling up in the corner, legs shaking and head burying itself between his knees. Frowning, you uttered, "I'll get a towel,"

---

"Thank you,", Keith's voice lacked its usual depth as he feebly grabbed the steaming mug of hot chocolate from your hands and balanced it on his knees, staring down at the bubbling brown liquid dejectedly. Humming, you perched on the edge of the coffee table, fingers drumming softly against the hardwood as your eyes scanned over him.

"What happened?", you finally managed to ask, tearing your eyes away from his shaggy mullet and tight clothes (you had managed to find a few things he left when he used to sleep over), and simply choosing to stare at the floor. He took a long, shuddering breath.

"She, uh, she dumped me. Cheated on me, actually,", he muttered, fingers tightening around the mug as he took a sip. Your gaze softened, e/c eyes flickering up to his face, and noticing the slight twitch of his eyebrow: one of the telltale traits of him being on the verge of tears. But, he didn't burst out crying. He chuckled. A bitter, hollow chuckle. "She had the nerve to sleep with the guy in my bed. My fucking bed, y/n,"

Biting your lip, you hesitantly reached out a hand and patted his knee, your touch foreign after four months of not speaking. His nervous jitters stopped almost instantly, though, as if the feeling of your hand on his leg lulled him into a sense of security.

"I'm sorry,"

He shook his head, running a hand through his mullet.

"No, I'm sorry. I-I pushed you away. I shouldn't have done that. I was a prick, as Lance kept reminding me,", your brows furrowed, and you leaned back. Not noticing this, he continued. "You're so amazing, y/n. You- you didn't do anything to deserve the way I treated you. And you wouldn't have cheated on me like she did. I know that. You.... are you willing to give me a second chance?"

Silence befell the room. Your slippers scraped across the floor as you planted your feet firmly down, wanting to assure yourself that you weren't losing the plot. Keith was here. Now. Saying that he wanted to... rekindle things? No. That couldn't happen.

"Look, Keith...", you said softly, lowering your head to meet his eyes. "You can stay tonight, but... I want you gone in the morning, okay? I'll call Shiro and ask him to pick you up. He'll take good care of you. Just... don't do anything stupid. Sure, she was a bitch, but you don't need to go flippant over her. She's not worth it,", you rose to your feet, turning to leave, when his fingers curled around your wrist.

"y/n...,", he whispered, almost pleadingly, into the abyss of the dimly lit living room.

"Don't,"

The flatness in your voice made him recoil, allowing you a swift retreat up the stairs and to your bedroom.

---

Bangs rattled the front door, almost yanking it off of its hinges. Scoffing, you walked downstairs, not bothering to check who was there before swinging the front door open, revealing a stumbling, out-of-sorts Keith. His shirt was untucked, his hair unkempt, and he appeared to be kneeling in front of your door. his body hit the ground with a soft 'thump' as you opened the front door.

"Oh, please, do come in. There's plenty of room in the inn,", you uttered sarcastically, crouching down and grabbing his hands, then dragging his body over the threshold of the house. Grunts and groans escaped his lips in a disoriented chain, the stench of liquor fanning across your face as you slapped his cheek gently. "Oi, get up,"

"huh? Mm.. y/n,", he slurred, lips curving into a wonky grin as he sat up, then flopped backwards with a childish giggle. Scoffing, you used your foot to kick the front door closed, then went into the kitchen. A small whine sounded from him, and you could hear him calling after you.

"Bloody idiot,", you whispered to yourself, grabbing a glass of water and making a coffee: a routine you seemed to have become accustomed to in recent weeks. Placing the two beverages down on the living room coffee table, you then turned to the pile of limbs on your floor, grimacing at the sight of him heaving into your plant.

"'M not feeling too good,", he groaned, back quivering. With a soft sigh, you kneeled behind him, allowing him to lean back into your body, face nuzzling into your chest. Holding back a gag, you gently moved his head and lifted the water bottle to his lips, making him drink some of the cold, fresh liquid. He gulped the water hungrily, then shoved the bottle away weakly, arms flying around your torso and sending you onto the floor.

"You big lug,", you yelp, shielding your head as your back made contact with the oak. Eyes fluttering open, he peered up at you with those big, innocent eyes. His lips curved into a frown as he buried his face in your chest, no longer feeling nauseous, though that was at the expense of your new houseplant.

"Sorry. 'M sorry, baby,", he slurred, running his hands over your sides, fingers lingering near your hips for longer than you might've liked. Blood rushed to your face and ears, making you lose all logical thinking as you ran a hand through his soft, unkempt hair. Keith purred lowly and smiled, burying his face in your chest.

"This has to stop, Keith,", you said after a moment, sitting up slightly and leaning against the wall. He muttered a small "huh?", into your shirt. "This. Us. You, I mean. You coming to my house after you've had a drink. You can't flush her out, and I'm not gonna play house. That's not how it works,"

"What d'you mean?", he questioned, peering up at you curiously. It took everything in you not to swaddle him up and tell him everything was gonna be okay as you noticed his tiny pout. Steeling your gaze, you frowned.

"I mean, I want you to stop. I don't want to talk to you. Stay out of my life, Keith. Call Shiro from now on, he can deal with your drinking problems,", you averted your eyes so he couldn't pick up on the glassiness forming in them, and pursed your lips as you heard him sob.

"Please, y/n. Please, don't do this. You're my best friend. I-I don't have anyone else,", he begged, pleaded, hands tightening around the fabric of your shirt. You shook your head.

"No, Keith. Out. I-I want you out of my life,", you fought to keep your voice steady, chest heaving.

"What about--"

"Forget it. Doesn't matter,", you cut him off, reaching for your phone. "I'm calling Shiro. He can pick you up and take it from here,"

---

A/N: Hey reader, hope you enjoyed!! Sorry, I know it's been ages since I've written one of these, but I was sort of out of ideas and had no time with the revision I've been doing. Anyway, this one is a follow-on from a one-shot I wrote ages ago, and it's based on "Memories" by Conan Gray (his new album is amazing, by the way). I hope you're all having a good day/night, and if you have any requests, please do let me know!! Until next time!! - Gracie