ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄʀʏ, ʙʀᴀᴛ | ʟᴇᴠɪ ᴀᴄᴋᴇʀᴍᴀɴ

_.one

Memories

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The blond girl thumped the table, making the transparent liquid in her glass vibrate. Y/n was unfazed by the fuss her friend was making other something that didn't even concern her, and slammed her drink.

"So, let me resume this." the blonde girl took a deep breath to calm herself, her eyes closed to better process what Y/n had just told her.
"You're going to join the Training corps on the account of mere rumors?"
"Yes." Y/n nodded, motioning for the waitress to pour her another drink.
The sigh that escaped the blondie's thin lips was slow, as if her brain needed that time to think about how to word her next argument.
"Let's assume he's truly the one of the rumors -"
"He is." Y/n asserted, cutting her friend mid-sentence while the waitress poured her another glass of scotch.
"Yeah, whatever." the blondie waved her hand. "Why would you want to find him ?"
"I owe him, and I feel the need to pay him back to feel at peace." she said, grabbing her drink.

Strands of hair fell on Y/n's face as she stared down at her drink. She was absorbed by the motion of the amber liquid swirling in the glass as her hand was moving in small, slow, perfect circles.

The blondie frowned."What for ? He scarred your body for life, Y/n. He roughed you up when you were just a little child."

The blondie's eyes rested on the scar showing on Y/n's collarbone, disappearing under her top around her shoulder. She cringed at the thought of how painful it must have been, her mind daring to wonder what he did to her to leave this mark on her soft skin.

Y/n trailed her index finger along her scar. Sara could never understand how much these scars meant for Y/n. Sara wasn't the one the black-haired boy lifted up from this rotten bin on that day, she wasn't the one he taught how to survive in this wicked world. Y/n was alive because how rough he had been with her, because how tough the training she went through had been. For Y/n, he didn't mistreated her, her cared for her and no matter how hard Sara protested against this idea, her heart never wavered.

"I cherish them." Y/n stated before chugging her drink. "Those scars." she clarified, seeing the perplexed look Sara gave her.
"Thanks to them, I'm able to protect you against those psycho clients of yours." Y/n forced a chuckle in an attempt to lighten up the mood. Sara slouched on her chair, sighing in defeat.

Sara was a prostitute. She had to deal with a lot of greedy men who couldn't afford to pay for what they wanted. Y/n couldn't blame Sara for her way of life, living as a woman was hard in the Underground. With no family, selling her body was the only way to get by enough to survive.

"Aye, aye, Y/n, savior of the damsels in distress." The blonde girl's light laughter filled the empty bar they were in.

Y/n's expression shifted as she started to think about the near future, of tomorrow, when she will leave the Underground. Worry reflected in her eyes when she gazed at her friend.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself while I'm away." Y/n leaned forward, inching herself from her friend across the table.

Sara took a moment to appreciate Y/n's beautiful face, printing a fixed image of features in her mind in anticipation of her departure, before ruffling her hair ruthlessly, chuckling.

"Always."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Her little hands clutched at the glass, chugging the cold water so fast she started coughing.
"Brat, do you want to die a joke, chocking on water ?" the teenager sneered at the little girl, taking the glass away from her.