« cheater dabi x reader »
THE SAME WORDS repeated themselves over and over in your mind—how could he? Okay, it was more of a question, but that's not the point you're trying to make right now. It's the situation in hand: the ultimate betrayal to lovers, a crisis that churns the heart and seeps bitterness and pain flowing freely across it, engulfing the whole thing like a blanket. Dabi cheated. On you.
Planning to take yet another swig of beer, you hastily brought the brim of the glass of liquor to your lips, taking in large gulps and leaving nothing more than the white foams to rest and disappear at the bottom of your drink. You've drank enough to make the bitter taste of it disappear, delicious, even. Needless to say, it was your fifth drink. Or was it sixth?
"How much are you planning to drink, exactly?" Questioned the bartender from the opposite side of the bar. He wasn't deterred by the sight of a young girl drinking harder than a couple of his usuals, in fact he gets customers much younger than her age. It's the expression she had displayed on her face that made him want to ask.
You frowned. "Oi, you lassy," slurring, you push the empty glass of beer towards his direction. "Jimmy another one. Straat!"
He sighed, turning around so that the rather lovely order of you, the drunken lady, would be tended to immediately. It was obvious he didn't understand anything you said aside from 'another one.' Jimmy, lassy, and 'Straat!' can all rest in peace. You were the only one left inside, so it didn't take long before another full glass was set before you.
"Geeeee, thanksh, dude!" You cheered, and proceeded to shove it down your throat in a matter of seconds. You set it down again, smacking your lips, clearly satisfied, but not entirely quenched of your thirst for distraction. "Aaaaand, anooother oooone!"
The bartender sighed. This was going to be a long night.
***
The bar had managed to kick you out and only kick you out, much to your luck. Apparently, you were a minor, and the manager didn't give two shits about it, but then some cops entered and asked you your age because apparently you looked 'too wasted to be someone legal' and everything else after was a blur. Of course Susan was behind it—she always was. But Karen might've ratted you out to the police because of that gum on her hair incident, you'll never know. And remember, might the author add as a lousy joke. One moment you were being interrogated and then you were walking across the streets barefooted. Under the rain.
Rrrrromantic.
"When love is seen from two points of view, what we were I can only guess," you said melodramatically to no one in particular. Your arms were thrown up in the air despite the cold, but the warmth from all the drinks you had in your stomach overpowered it strongly.
"I am certain it was love with you—but to love, you did not confess,"
You propped yourself on a random broken spinning chair left outside in a yard sale from one of the houses you were passing by and twirled around, yelling, "So was it I—who made it more? Or was it you—who made it less?!" You giggled uncontrollably, throwing a fist in the air. "God, Lang Leav is awesome! Hooooly shiiiit! Weeeee!"
