The Drunken Bars- Mamoru Kishi-
Mamoru and (Y/N), Mamoru and you, who would’ve thought you could end up where you are now, questioning if you’re even half the person you used to be, while you wait, with hope that he’ll appear in front of you, but you no longer even know him.
Hands grasping at the bars in front of you, resting your forehead against the cold steel, you never thought you’d end up here, you remembered how you’d fallen in love with him from the back of his cop car, the detective was never straight laced, so did it shock anyone he was in love with a criminal like yourself?
That after all this time he could hang up on you in your time of need. You’d die for Mamoru, he wouldn’t die for you.
Swaying against the bars, you found yourself laughing, anyone watching would think you were insane, you weren’t you just found yourself questioning your own sanity, half convinced that Mamoru would call back, Mamoru would show up and bail you out. It was just a fight, just another fight, he’d never done this before. Turning, sliding down, feeling the cool metal against your back, shirt riding up, you rested your head in your hands, you dread to think what you looked like right now. Probably the same as the day he’d met you, another drunken street fight with some thug.
The day you’d met Mamoru Kishi had changed your life, you remembered drunkenly explaining your story, young, drunk and alone, having just smashed a glass over a mans head, leaving with little more than a black eye and a whole lot of pride, you’d laughed as you regaled the tale to him, you were so damned proud of yourself. He’d been so strong when he’d thrown you in that car, and damn had he looked hot as he drove, smoke hanging from his lips, a lazy gaze drifting back to you, tracing your every movement as you excitedly explained every detail, you swore you’d even heard a short laugh slide past his lips, and like an over excited kid, he’d found you in the station every day after that, whether it was of your own will or not, constantly begging for his attention, telling him your small stories, things there was no need for the detective to know about you, then you managed to get him to give you his phone number, and you couldn’t count the amount of times you dial this number drunk, and yet like a knight in shining amour he would show up, collecting you, stopping your regular bar fights, because he was there before you could start them, it was like he was healing something inside of you, like you were no longer a danger to yourself.
Mamoru Kishi, your very own lazy knight, you adored every moment you spent with him, never did you think he would leave you like this.
And then there was one fight, and then another, and another, and you found yourself promising you would forget about him over drinks, and you swore to yourself you had, and yet as you were thrown in the back of that cop car, you felt as though you were reliving the night you’d fallen for him, and when you handed over his name as your one phone call.
And the first time he didn’t you found yourself crying, but you repeated the same process, and that’s how you found yourself here, it had to be the fifth time in two weeks, but you kept on handing over his name as your phone call, and every time, it would ring, and ring, you swore you could picture him, sitting in that messy apartment, just watching his mobile ring on the coffee table, not caring.
Coughing up some new tears, you didn’t know how you’d fucked up your relationship to this point, to end up, young, drunk and alone.
All you could hear was his voice on repeat in your memory through the haze of the drinks, repeating how much he loves you, he wasn’t the man you thought he was, you would’ve died for him, and in that cell, you wanted him o come and pick you up off of the ground, but he was pretending like he no longer knew you, like he no longer loved you.
“(L/N), (Y/N) You’ll be free to go in the morning”, you heard an officer repeat outside of your cell, and turning on him, you rubbed your eyes, attempting to hide the fact you’d been crying,
“Just let me have one more call, he’s got to pick up” You found yourself begging, he wasn’t going to listen, despite all the officers looking the same, you could see the pity behind his eyes as he looked at you, a new bruise forming under your eye as you pretended to be strong,
“I beg you, just let me call” You whispered more to yourself, something screaming that this would be the time he would pick up, and yet gazing at the officer he shook his head,
“I swear he’d going to call me back” you continued to rationalise with yourself, as the officer walked away from your pleas.
You couldn’t see it, you’d never know, Mamoru heard every call, he got told about every report, and sitting at his desk, head resting in his hands, he didn’t know what to do anymore, it was as though he never knew you, and yet, what more couldn’t he expect he’d met you while arresting you, he knew you weren’t perfect, and yet he was watching you spiral, listening to your every plea, getting feedback on your downward spiral and you fell further and further from grace.
God Mamoru loved you, and getting the latest report of how much faith you had in this idea that he was going to pick up the phone and aide with your downward spiral was enough to break him, the fact he knew you were crying in a cell, half drunk, begging them to let you call him again, the fact he knew he wasn’t going to pick up the phone call.
“(Y/N), Why do you do this to yourself?”
For the shame of being young, drunk and alone, who knows? Maybe one day he’d pick up that call, but for now, you were stuck in that cell, as Mamoru would let that call just ring out.
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