Roman Torchwick x Reader: When The Sky Turns Dark

A mysterious man

You're walking down a lively street downtown with bustling cars and busy people. You slip the hood of your black sweater over your head, adjusting the straps of your backpack.

Earlier, you hurried to grab the little things you owned and snuck away. Even now your heart hammers in your chest. Passerby's eyes curiously wander over to you. Can they tell you're a student? Is it obvious you're trying not to be recognized? The hot sun beats down at you, making you look even more out of place wearing dark and warm clothing.

Your stomach rumbles, feeling hollow. Sighing, you walk through an alley to another street. On the far right corner stood a building that catches your attention. Squinting through the bright sun, a red sign reads The Rose Cafe. Glancing in every other direction, you realize there is no other place for you to rest. Dodging other padestrians, you cross the busy street and speed walk to the cafe, entering through the glass front door. It's fancier than you expected. Small wooden round tables are situated around the room. Although cheap light fixtures hang above, it suits the atmosphere. Suprisingly, old radio tunes are playing, ones you used to listen to with your dad.

Gulping a sudden large amount of saliva, you cautiously make your way to a table at the back, dropping your bag on the floor and flipping off your hood. Sitting down and leaning back in your seat, you brush stray hair out of your face. A waitress wearing an apron and a red dress stops infront of you, smiling and bending down to hand you a small white paper pamflet. She turns to walk away when you clear your throat, twisting around to face you again curiously raising an eyebrow.

"What is it, dear?" She speaks with an annoying fake tone.

You hold out the pamflet to her. "I'll only have a glass of water."

Her smile fades, turning to a frown. Did you say something wrong? The waitress glances at the pamflet held out infront of her then back at you, making no move to grab it. "We only serve water to paying customers."

Opening up the pamflet, the cheapest thing to buy was an expensive coffee for six dollars. You don't have that kind of money and if you did, you certainly wouldn't spend it on something stupid like that.

"I don't have any money." You mutter.

The woman snatches the pamflet out of your hand. "Then go somewhere else, this cafe doesn't allow loitering."

"Like hell." A rough, slurred voice grumbles from behind.

The woman's eyes flare with anger. She dramatically places her hands on her hips. "Excuse me?"

You hear a chair screech back and what follows are slow study footsteps leading their way beside you. A gruff looking man with dark-grey messy hair and a hard look in his eyes, stares at the woman unimpressed with his hands in his pockets. "You serious, lady? Just give the kid some water. Last I remembered, water was free and it comes out of a tap. Can't be too hard, unless you're retarded or somthin'."

The waitress scoffs, spinning on her heel and stomping through the back kitchen doors.

The man's eyes meet yours. "What's her problem?"

You shrug. "Thanks, I guess."

"The name's Qrow, by the way." He smiles kindly. "I deal with first class A-holes like her on a regular basis."

Qrow saunters over to the other side of your table and lazily falls into the empty seat.

"No offense, but what are you doing?"

"Makin' sure your drink arrives."

Sure enough, the lady returns with a large glass of water and places it infront of you. Clear square ice cubes dance on the surface. Qrow winks at her, but his gesture is returned with a scoff and a flip of brown hair as she stalks away.

You chuckle quietly to yourself, picking up the sweaty glass and bringing it to your lips.

"So, why are you out of school?" Qrow asks casually.

You nearly choke on your water.

"Don't have it." You quickly make up, taking another sip.

"Do I look stupid to you?" He points at his face with a frown.

You don't answer his question.

He sighs, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "What's your deal, kid? Why are you in a crappy place like this?"

"Water. Why are you here?"

He glances up at the ceiling. "Dunno'. Maybe this place was different back in the day; when the service was good and the drinks were cheap."

He stops himself, looking back at you again. "But that's not what I meant."

"I don't care what you meant." You plainly state. "You may have done me a favor, but that doesn't mean you have the right to stick your nose in my business."

Qrow exhales slowly. "Your right." He leans foward, reaching into his back pocket and retrieving a small silver container. He spins off the cap and brings it to his lips, tilting it back and taking a long swig.

"Is that alcohol?"

He twists on the cap again, returning it to its place in his back pants pocket. "Maybe."

The mysterious man squints at you. "Don't know where." He slurs, "But I swear I've seen you before."

"Your drunk, Qrow. Go home." You slide the water across the table infront of him.

He shrugs. "Believe it or not, princess, I'm always like this."

"Then get help." You stand up, grabbing your bag and slipping your arms through the straps.

"Exactly."

You turn to face him out of suprise. He stares right at you in all seriousness, as if he's staring into your soul.

You study your feet, feeling like you gave your whole life away just by looking at him. "Bye." You mummble. Walking fast out of the store.