Star-Crossed Rivals || [Keith x Reader]

The Detainment Room

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Knowing how to get along with people was a skill that had to be learned just like any other. For some, it came rather naturally, and some never really learn how to do it.

You remembered when you were seven years old and got into first grade. It was sunny and comfortably warm outside, the weather you liked most. Technically, it was the perfect day to start school, but still you were nervous and refused to go. You threw the clothes that your mother had perfectly laid out on the mattress for you to the ground and hid under your bed.

You chuckled at the memories, shaking your head at how stubborn you were back then. Your mother ordered you to come out and get dressed but all you did was scream "No!" and scoot further away when she ducked down to pull you out. "Why? You're going to be late, (Y/N), come out of there."

Still, you refused. Only when your father got down and joined you under the bed did you admit what was keeping you there.

"I don't want to be in first grade," you whispered to him and he asked, "Why not?"

"What if they don't like me?"

You were so concerned you'd end up friendless in school that you thought it'd be best to not go at all. At least then there was no way to reject you. Thinking back, you don't really get where that insecurity came from. It was not like you experienced anything in your first seven years that has made you feel like you were unlikeable.

After a long talk under the dusty bed and some bribing with candy, your father convinced you to go anyway. And you were glad that you did. Although you were scared, you thought back to what your father told you and approached a group of kids during recess, and turned out you fitted right in. From then on, you never wasted the opportunity to make some friends or talk to someone. Every time you remembered the conversation under the bed and every single time it gave you the confidence you needed.

That was, until he died three years later. You were lying under the bed as you always did and fell asleep there. Having slept on the floor was probably the reason you didn't smell the fire as quickly as you usually should have. Both your parents thought you were already out the house as they didn't see you in your room.

Only when they couldn't find you outside did they realize you were still home, at least that's how your mother retold the story. So your father ran in again when the firefighters took too long. Had you slept on your bed like a normal person, your dad wouldn't have burned his lungs trying to save you. Your mother blamed you for the death of his husband and you did too at first. That's why she sent you away to the Garrison as soon as she could.

What disturbed you the most about it was that one of the few things that survived the fire was your bed. You wanted to throw it away but your mother forced you to keep it. So that you'll always remember how you killed the love of my life.