Nemesis in The Building | JJBA College AU

2| Government Hooker

    Guys guys guys I finally have some of this mapped out some more so HOPEFULLY I don't mess this up   

Pls tell me some of y'all are still here :(((

UNTIL U BITCHES COME BACK I NOT EDITING SHIT ALSO BC THIS WAS LONG 

3K BTW 

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It's cold in here. 

      Red and blue flashes against your wall, remembering the strobe lights, colored lights, speakers, a stage, bars with bar stools, small round tables with worn velvet seats, aged washrooms, the white tiled walls smoked yellow, waitresses dressed skimpily with glowing trays of drinks or shooters or empty bottles and glasses, shots lined up at the bar, bartenders, bottles of booze lined up...

     What's different now?

     Your migraine is still present. Smaller, kinder, but just as alive as you were.

     The smell of old metal burns your nose; stale air, the scents of smoke and pot wafting in from outside. The room is pungent.

     You spotted specks-- no, a load of brown on..white. Last nights crab rushes to fill your mouth in acidic chunks as disgust commands you yet.

     In a clueless throw you launch your body off bed to the floor. The cold concrete burns your hands as you land. Though you had escaped the mysterious stain on the thin mattress you are now victim to the even more disgusting ground, and its similarly peculiar stains (what would be better, if it were blood or shit?).

     A striking shadow overlooked your swaying body, it broke the gentle stream of light that if only barely warmed the frozen ground you were paralyzed to. In that moment it appeared, it shrinked to your level on squatted legs and called to your conscience.

     "Are you alright, (Y/n)?" The metal screams as it grinds together, the door to what you finally understand is a cell has been opened by a tall, slim man with a kind face. 

     His navy suit wrinkles as he leans down to help you to your feet, carefully pulling you to a chair just outside, beside a table with a few of your belongings, and a notepad.

     His hand grips your shoulder, though not forcefully. Starting at his hand your eyes run up the sturdy length of his arm. Every bit hidden by modesty has you wondering, and when your eyes meet his, you're struck.

     Bruno had often found himself at the scenes of your clubbing, always in the background of the party. Arresting drunk drivers, fighters, those in the "business", prostitutes, onward, he was only ever there cleaning up messes to you, to the times you noticed him.

     He would manage find you before he could even begin to look for anything, or anyone, else. Always the first thing to catch his eye, at one point he considered it a game, how quickly he could find you in a crowd. His best is 2.7 seconds (he obviously timed it for fun).

     To him, you were the only stand-still object in any room. Boring, put plainly. But it was the familiarity of you that struck curiosity. 

     "I wish we could've met under better circumstances." He says, extending a hand across the table. "Maybe it wouldn't be so awkward, right?"

     The chill air of the police station sobers you quickly as you realize where you are, and with a half-shaky hand you grasp his. "I've seen you around, it's nice to meet you."