Midnight Skies - A DabixReader Story

Good Samaritan

*TW: SPIKING/ATTEMPTED SA*

You were avoiding home.
You had been for a while, truthfully. Only ever going home when you really couldn't excuse being out anymore. Even then you had to have complete silence in your home, something you'd never wanted before, determined to be able to hear any little sound that may occur.
So any excuse to be away from the place you had once felt most comfortable you would take.

Tonight, like a lot of nights recently, Emi had invited you out for drinks. And you'd gone, like every other time she'd asked.
Before Dabi, you were a hermit, unwilling to be in heavy populated areas, because the amount of thoughts you were subjected to all at one time had a tendency to make you feel a little dizzy. But you found clubs, with the loud music and the alcohol, definitely helped you embrace being around people more.

Emi, however, had disappeared. You'd circled the club a couple times, calling her name on the third time, and even checking the bathroom. But she really had vanished.
Maybe it was the alcohol, but you found yourself pretty irritated by this. More irritated than you would usually get, but maybe it was because Emi had drilled into you, as a newbie, that you never ditch your friends in the clubs.
So you sit alone at the bar after ordering yourself another one of your favourite drinks, muttering to yourself about how much of a bitch she was for clearing off without you.

A tap on your shoulder draws your attention as you're sipping your drink through a straw, in your own little world watching the bartender fix other people their drinks, letting your eyes hover for a second longer over the more interesting looking patrons, wondering about their lives and almost finding yourself wishing you could pick their thoughts out from the jumble of noise and images in your head.
You turn around, and are faced with a pretty handsome guy around your age, a friendly grin on his face as he leans one toned arm next to you on the bar, making no secret of checking you out, his eyes running from your ankles slowly up to your face.

You feel your face flush red. It'd been a long time since someone had done that, discounting Dabi's perverse thoughts about you. The last time someone had shown any true interest in you was Junichiro, and the thought of that was enough to make you cringe internally from the guilt that remained from that whole scenario.
"A gorgeous girl like you alone?" He asks, his grin not faltering as he fearlessly meets your own stony yellow gaze that seemed to freak out the majority of people.
You offer a nervous chuckle as an answer, unable to get past the fact someone normal was showing you interest.

He plops himself down on the stool next to you, not once moving his eyes from yours.
"I like what you're wearing." He yells over the music, his hand reaching out to fiddle with the hem of your skirt absentmindedly, his eyes dropping to look at the velvet burgundy material, before his eyes flick straight back up to yours and you're thrown off guard by a very vivid image of your clothes no longer on your body, and his prediction of what that would look like.

You reel back slightly, an instinctive reaction that the alcohol did not help you with stopping, usually able to poker-face your way out of uncomfortable situations like that. 
"Oh, thanks." You offer meekly, suddenly uninterested yourself, and feeling rather stupid for thinking it would be anything other than sex he'd be interested in.
"What are you drinking?" He asks, retracting his hand after you recoiled from the touch. The simple action helps your hope return. You'd seen Emi deal with situations like this, and you'd seen how often men would get offended and angry about rejection.

You explain, and he calls the bartender over, getting you another.
"You don't have to-" You begin, but he waves you silent, giving you another toothy grin.
"Let me at least try to shoot my shot."
You blush, and accept the drink, thanking him profusely, even bowing your head slightly. Apparently he found your awkwardness endearing, cause he simply laughed, his hand moving to your hair, twirling the silver strands between his fingers thoughtfully.
"This natural?" He asks, warm brown eyes meeting your own.