Troublemakers | Dabi x reader x Hawks

Chapter 5 - Bad Luck

You giggled slightly, before falling into a frenzy of drunken laughter. Leaning your head onto the tombstone, you sniffled. It was getting a bit cold, and you're probably going to be sick if you stayed outside any longer. Your fingers were trembling, and you'd lost all feeling in your toes, but you felt warm and nice on the inside.

The bottle of liquor lifted itself off the ground and the opening was placed against your numb lips. Oh, what's your hand doing there? Huh, maybe that's how the bottle moved.

The liquid messily dribbled down your chin, but you managed to catch some and swallow it. It tasted awful, burned your throat, but it was keeping your insides warm and made everything feel... subdued. Hazy. Like this is all a dream.

"Imagine if this was a dream" you pondered out loud. "You know, Tou, that'd be funny, but also pretty shitty at the same time. We only live once, and that's more than enough times for me, thank you very much"

The tombstone nodded intelligently, before swirling, dragging its surroundings along with it in a black hole.

"But, I think I'd be okay with that. As long as you're still here with me. If it could bring you back, I'd live and die as many times as I need to." you slurred.

Memories flushed your brain that was functioning at a fraction of its usual capacity, reminding you that Touya is indeed dead and that you're talking to a tombstone. Reminding you that your friend is indeed dead, and you're still alive, complaining about life. Reminding you that your first and only crush is indeed dead, burnt to a crisp after extensive training, based on the information provided to you by his family. Reminding you that Touya is indeed dead, and here you are, talking to his gravestone 8 years later, celebrating the anniversary of his death in your own, weird way. 

By drinking, getting high and gossiping with a lump of glorified concrete in the middle of the night.

Your insensate fingers were fumbling, trying to properly grip the neck of the glass container. You squinted your eyes and stared intensely at it, as if looking in a menacing manner will convince feeling to return to your fingertips. The liquid sloshed around as you whirled it, willing your wrist to conjure a mini tornado in the booze. The circular motion was so satisfying.

Round and round it goes.

Round and round.

It just keeps going.

You're in control. If you wanted to, you could switch the direction. If you wanted to, you could stop the movement. If you wanted to, you could flip it upside down and empty the bottle. If you wanted, you could bring your friend back from the dead.

No, that's not right. One of those statements is false.

You readjusted your position so that you were leaning onto the stone, knees bent under you in a diagonal manner. You slumped yourself, hoping that it could support you in a way your over-exhausted and abused muscles cannot.

Just like Touya did.

"I miss you" you confessed, tears falling down your red, puffy face. "A lot. There's a difference between knowing that you left me, and knowing that you're dead. If you were alive, I'd be happy, knowing that you still have the chance to leave that shitty old man behind. But..."

A sob interrupted your one-sided conversation. Who's the motherfucker that has the audacity to come and ruin my evening?

Huh. You are.

You leaned further into the tombstone, gliding your unoccupied fingertips across the rugged surface, tracing out the groove where his name was engraved. "It's my fault, you know? That's what makes this worse; it's my fault. I was so occupied with my own shit that I didn't notice anything changing for you. We both got hurt so often that it became normal. And, it was just a matter of time before you got pushed over the edge. I'm sorry I didn't help you. I'm sorry. I'm so, so fucking sorry."