mine. (O. Dìaz x reader)

11

Next thing I know I'm waking up from falling out of a plane. What? Sorry, what? I sit up in my bed.

Then I feel the pain in my ribs and my body. I wince and lay back down. I can't do this shit.

"Shit." I whisper

I look at my phone.

7:28

I sit up again. RELUCTANTLY. Mom should be at work. Danny said he's sleeping over at a friends house. ITS JUST ME. Fuck yeah dude. I celebrate silently. I get up slowly and go to the bathroom, taking a look at myself in the mirror. Fuck. They really did fuck you up huh? I grab my toothbrush and brush my teeth.

I walk into the living room and look at the piano. Just sitting there. Collecting dust. Such a waste.

"See? Just like that Y/N." Her dad says to her, showing her the way to play, 'Italian Concerto'.

She starts to play but her small fingers won't move the way she needs them to.

"Daddy I can't do it." She huffs and puts her hands on her legs.

Her dad smiles at her, giving her a kiss on her head.

"That's alright baby." He laughs. "When you grow up, you'll be able to play it beautifully." He tells her, putting one of his hands on her cheek.

I smile. I sit down at the piano and lift the cover on the keys. I press my finger on one of the keys. ding. Then a different one. Ding.

"Hm." I hum. ding. ding. ding. done.

"Oops." I say. 'Italian Concerto'...

I probably don't even remember how to play it. I shrug. But who cares. It's just me. If I fuck up, then whatever.

I fix my posture on the seat and position my hands on the starting keys.

I start playing.

Holy shit? I'm doing it? I smile as I get excited by how well I'm doing just from memory. What the hell dad? Teaching a 7 year old this damn music piece? Couldn't you have taught me how to play like Hot Cross Buns or something? I think to myself.

"Beautiful."

BOOM.

"Fuck man." I jump, then I flinch from the pain in my ribs. I turn around to see who's behind me. Oscar. "The fuck are you doing here? Do you not have your own house?" I ask him.

"I do." Oscar tells me. "Danny wanted me to stay here to keep an eye on you." He shrugs.

"I don't want that. Go away." I roll my eyes and stand up, slowly, a snails pace slow so I don't do anything to make my body hurt.

"Damn Y/N. Treating me like this after I helped you so much yesterday?" He says to me.

I stand up fully and stare at him. Judging him.

"Okay, Oscar." I roll my eyes and walk to the kitchen. More or less hobbling, I think. "Are you gonna leave or just stand there and stare at me?" I ask him.

"You need any help?" He asks me.

"Nope." I say flatly. I open the cupboard and reach to pull out a glass. "Ah!" I yelp out in pain and pull my arm down quickly.

I hear him snicker from where he's standing. "Shut the fuck up Oscar. Nobody likes you." I roll my eyes.

He walks over to me and stands close to me.

I look up slightly at his face. He reaches and grabs a glass out of the cupboard and sets it on the counter.

"Thank you." I say to him and grab the glass and open the fridge, pulling out the milk.

"You wanna pour it for m-" Before I can finish my sentence he takes the milk and the glass from my uhands and pours me a glass of milk, handing it to me.

I stare at his face, then the glass, then his face again.

"Uh."

I walk away from him and sit on the couch. He sits next to me.

"Give me the remote." I tell him.

"Say please."

"No." I say, rolling my eyes. I move to grab the remote but he grabs it before me and hands it to me.

I take it and turn on the tv, putting on a show.

I turn my body so I'm laying my legs over his and I'm resting my body on the arm of the couch, keeping my face turned to the tv.

He snickers.

"Why do you laugh like that?" I ask him. "Its not even a laugh its like ehechs" I tell him, trying to mimic his laugh.

"Tch. Get your legs off of me hyna." He smiles and pushes my legs off of him.

I wince, closing my eyes tightly. Fuck.

"Did that hurt?" He asks.

"Yeah." I say, sitting the right way on the couch. My elbows on my knees and I'm hunched over, breathing hard. He puts his hand on my back, moving it around. It doesn't feel soothing. Just feels like he's trying to be nice and I'm forcing him to do it.

I turn to look at him.

"The fuck you sitting so close to me for?" I ask him. We're close. Hip touching, lip smooching looking close.

I lean back on the couch and sigh. "Why are you in a gang?" I ask him.

He doesn't say anything for a minute. "My family." He shrugs.

"Hm." I hum, craning my head back so its resting on the couch.

"Why did you go to Harvard?" I hear his voice.

"Needed the academic validation." I shrug.

We both laugh quietly. I sigh.

"You ever thought about what your life would be like if you didn't join it?" I ask him, turning my head to look at him.

He doesn't say anything. "There could've been so many different ways my life could be like." He says and laughs.

I laugh with him.

"How about you?"

"I just needed to feel smart. If I didn't get into Harvard I think I would've killed myself." I laugh, wincing from the pain.

Then he's kissing me.

What?

(Words: 1027)