Constant Reminder

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The next day, you saw him again. And again. And again. And it went on for the rest of the week.

It was driving you nuts.

Wherever you went, he'd be there. At whichever time you left any place, even if it was late past midnight, extremely early at dawn, or during normal leisure hours, he'd always be there. It was like a sour reminder of what you had lost for being so naive and dropping the ball on your relationship.

This crazy encounters were also eating your mind up. They made you want to physically hurt yourself for being such an idiot, for not being able to keep Rosinante by your side and for letting him go so easily. Of course there was no real impulse to actually hurt yourself, it was more of a comical need to punch your face repetitively until you stopped feeling anything. Until you stopped feeling the pain of heartbreak.

An example. The day after Law ran away to go meet Rosinante, you had made it your objective of the day to stay curled up at home as you sinked in your self loath. It was supposed to be therapeutic, a way to meditate and hopefully make you feel better after giving things lots of thought, but it so happened that your final thesis guide, one of your teachers, decided to call you for an emergency meeting.

So, already grumpy because of the interruption to your healing rituals, you marched your way to the campus. Of course, as your luck would have it, not even a couple of blocks past your building, the cop whom you blamed for the mess you had become magically appeared out of nowhere, bumping into you while he was on patrol and making you fall down on your butt.

Couldn't he simply patrol another area of the city?!

Rosinante didn't even notice it was you at first, the gentleman offering you help to get up from the floor and later dropping you back down as realization hit his face. It was you.

The woman whom he blamed for the mess he had become.

Once again, words tried to leave his lips only for him to clumsily attempt to make sense, weird noises that didn't resemble words on the slightest bit rolling off his tongue. You, once again, let your body be taken away from him with a squeezing ache in your chest while you wondered what it was that he was trying to say.

That same night, you went back home with the piled up stress of your thesis work added to the frustration of not being able to function as a normal human being because you simply couldn't get over the fact that your boyfriend had dumped you. You hated yourself. And you cried for hours.

Rosinante of course felt just as terrible as you did. Seeing you so frequently wasn't helping his case at all. He was unfocused, tired, and extremely short tempered. He had his entire precinct worried for his health as he didn't let anyone even get near him, much less sit down with him to talk.

He was stressed and angered. He wanted to get your angelical face out of his fucking head, but you were everywhere. Every day you'd pop up somewhere. The streets, a shop, at the scene of some crime, etc.

Absolutely fucking everywhere.

A small part of him was rejoicing with happiness at the fact that you were still there, present in his daily life. Although it wasn't the best case scenario, you were still there. It brought him hope. Hope that you were still emotionally attached to him and hope that you weren't going to date another guy. He took advantage of this fated encounters to keep an eye on you. The rest of his body, however, hated that destiny was punishing him like this. Seeing you everywhere reminded him of how cruel life was. It was as if someone was rubbing in his face the fact that he couldn't be with you. He couldn't touch you, just watch from afar.

He was hurt. There was a constant pain weighing at his chest, a constant tug attempting to pull him towards you every time he'd see you and he was going insane.

Although the situation was the same as the beginning stages of your relationship, when you used to bump into each other in the most bizarre scenarios, it felt the complete opposite. Back in those days he felt happy, butterflies fluttering inside his stomach every single time he'd look at you and hear your beautiful voice. Now, it was as if those butterflies had died inside him and now formed a heavy and stomach-churning mass. The irony was delicious.

Destiny frowned upon his failed attempts at matching the two of you up. No event had ever felt so exhaustingly difficult to it as materializing your relationship back into existence. Destiny bumped you together again and again, each time the incidents becoming closer and closer in the timeline, yet no peep was shared between the two. It appeared that it'd have to appeal to more extreme measures.

Two weeks after the break up, as destiny decided against your well-being, you felt as if your life suddenly became even more sucky in the span of a few minutes.

You were walking back home late at night after an exhausting meeting with your thesis guide, your body barely able to stand any longer on your feet. The streets felt desolated at such a late hour into a cold and misty night, so, knowing how dangerous this meant for weak little you, you decided to hurry the fuck up into getting home and, with that purpose in mind, took a shortcut that would get you much faster to your home.

The problem was that this shortcut meant that you had to walk through some extremely suspicious alleys in the middle of the night, but your mind was too exhausted and engulfed in your studies to care. You just wanted to get home quickly and go back to your self pitty rituals in which you hated yourself for still not getting over your ex.

If it weren't for some poorly raised and educated men, you would have been able to do just that.

It took only couple of steps into the dark and empty alleyway for you to get attacked. Anyone could have seen it coming.

It all happened so quickly, like a lightning striking your body and leaving you weak and scared.

Two men approached you, one from the front and the other one from your left. The first one pressed a gun against your temple at the same time as the smaller man at your side pressed his knife on your belly.

You couldn't hear what they were saying, your heart being too scared to make sense of their yelled words. Your body became practically limp, limbs feeling like jelly as you let the men grope around your curves and skin in the most sickening manner.

"Let me go." You whispered shakily, tears running down your cheeks as you knew this was a fight you had no chance of winning.

They only laughed and began to strip your body, gun and knife pressing even harder against you.

"Please." You pleaded, closing your eyes and fighting extremely hard not to resist the men's advances. You were afraid of moving, fearing the weapons pointed against you and what they could do to you with them.

Gunshots were heard in the background, a small frightened yelp leaving your lips as you begged to whatever gods existed that it hadn't been the man in front of you.

They spoke in a foreign language, fighting with each other as their hunt of the night was interrupted by whatever was going on a couple of blocks ahead. The place was no longer safe for either, so, settling for taking your clothes and items, the scurried off back to were they came from.

Just as fast as it started, it had ended.

You were alone, unsafe, and almost completely stripped of your clothes.

Silent sobs left your shaky body as you forced yourself to move forward, body acting in autopilot and mind completely numb. You wanted to get home. Just get back home.

You didn't deserve this.

Why was everything so hard lately? Why did you find yourself breaking in tears every single day? Why had Rosinante decided to leave you alone? Why had you decided to stop taking care of yourself because of a heartbreak?

Why were you so weak?

As if it hadn't been enough already, the gunshots continued to be heard, now much more closer to you, but you couldn't react anymore.

You kept moving forward, like a mind-numbed zombie.

Then it got worse.

"(Y/N)?" A deep voice called for you, just as your body finally reached a much safer and illuminated area. You were out of the alleys, but the struggle clearly hadn't ended.

The Cop (Donquixote Rosinante X Reader) AUWhere stories live. Discover now