ᴶᵉˢᵖᵉʳ ᶠᵃʰᵉʸ ᴵᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉˢ

ᴅɪꜱᴄᴜꜱꜱ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ

warnings: bar fight, mentions of drink, half edited work and swearing :)

˜"*°•.˜"*°••°*"˜.•°*"˜

You could tell it wasn’t going to be a good day as soon as you awoke.

You were correct.

Firstly, Kaz excluded you from the next heist because you were injured on the previous. You swore you had healed up but he didn’t buy it.

You knew that Kaz wasn’t doing it to be cruel, in fact quite the opposite, he was trying to ensure your well-being, but it still felt as though he was singling you out.

Next, someone managed to spill black coffee on your pale shade of sweater and you predicted it was going to be a bitch to get out.

Again: you were right.

You had eventually been able to remove the stain by soaking the jumper and remembering the remedy your parents used to use.

Although, the downside was, the ingredients were extremely scarce spread throughout Ketterdam. You had scoffed and had to refrain from stomping your foot, like a child having a tantrum.

Your reasoning was, that Ketterdam was the capital of Kerch, so therefore, it should be the most well stocked on specialities.

In the end, you were able to scrape together just enough of each component and the pigmented blemish lifted from the fabric.

The final straw was when a pigeon, an elderly one at that, began to flirt with you in his own crude way and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Kaz was also downstairs in the Crow Club so you sent a glance his way to request permission for your next decision. He briefly inclined his head, so knowing you wouldn’t get in trouble, you cast a look over your shoulder as your fingers fumbled around the neck of the nearest beer bottle.

Then you swung.

It hit the man right in the temple and he collapsed at the same time as the bottle smashed.

The Club lapsed into silence and everyone stared at the main object of attention - you.

By this point, you felt you’d had enough and slunk across the floor to a barstool. You plonked onto it ungracefully and wordlessly pointed to the strongest whiskey available. The bartender didn’t question it; you had a reputation for being able to hold your liquor and he had witnessed you out drink many a person.

As soon as the silence had descended on the pigeons and gamblers, it cleared, like a humid mist evaporating.

You collected the glass he had served out onto the bar top and excused yourself with a dip of your head and the distinct sound of the slap of money on the counter.

You sauntered your way out, the path being mapped to the exit as you walked and people almost leaping out of your way. It was quite obvious everyone had observed the little show you put on earlier.

As you exited the Club and made the short walk to the Slat, you allowed your shoulders to slump and your back to slouch.

You made your way in and instantly decided your destination was Jesper’s room.

It smelled distinctly like him, overall felt comfortable and as though it was… Home.

If anyone could revert your attitude to its usual carefree self and return your joyful teasing, it would be him.

The sharpshooter never failed to exude an ambience of warmth and cosiness.

You rapped your knuckles over the door and he opened it to see you, long hair that usually had no strand out of place, disheveled and unorganized.