My hands felt warm, yet wet. Sounds of cutlery and dishes scratching each other and splashing of water filled the air around me, as I was standing in the kitchen. My father was in the living room as always, drinking his beer, watching TV and smelling disgusting.
I didn't pay much attention to him, but I noticed the sound of the balcony door opening. It was a little odd, since I haven't heard him stand up from the sofa, but I might've just overheard it.
I brushed the thoughts away and continued washing the dishes, when my father's drunk voice appeared. "Oi, who are you?! Get out of my house!"
First of all, is he talking to me? Second this is not a house, it's an apartment, that we're renting, so it's not really his either. Confused I laid down the kitchen towel and took a step out of the small kitchen. "Wha-" I attempted to ask, but didn't finish the question, because I realized he wasn't talking to me. My eyes widened in shock and I was speechless. What the heck is he doing here!?
"Oh, there you are. I was already wondering, if I was in the wrong apartment." the black-haired male said. I didn't even know this name and he acted like we'd known each other for ages. It was like we were kids, meeting up to hang out. Other than that, why does he know where I live?!
"(Y/N)!" My father seemed mad. "Who is this and why do you know him?!" I was a little surprised, that he even managed to put the pieces together and concluded, that we kinda know each other in his drunk state. He was asking the right questions too. I'd like to know who he is as well!
The guy rolled his sea blue eyes. "That's none of your business, asshole." He spat and then turned to me as his eyes locked with mine. "You have five minutes to pack some stuff, so hurry!", he demanded.
I just stood there dumbfounded. "Wha-" He cut me off. "I'm not going to repeat myself! You know, I'm trying to help you out of here!" My dad kept complaining the whole time but was ignored.
The words 'out of here' ignited a little glim of hope inside of me. Still not really knowing how to feel, I just ran to my room and started packing some stuff. Some clothes, some products, but most importantly the picture. You know which one. The one of me and Mom.
I would've packed a phone too, but I don't own one... It was planned that I'll get one at ten years old, but since Mom died when I was only seven, that never happened.
'No! No! This is not the time to think about her!' I told myself, because I began to feel sad again. Many would say, I should get over her death already, but it's hard if you're reminded of it every day by your dad's behavior. He was drowning himself in sorrow and just dragged me along into his misery.
"Time's up!" the deep voice of our uninvited guest interrupted my thought trail as he leaned against the door frame. I turned to him and nodded a little hesitantly, while swinging the backpack onto my back.
I was still wondering what the hell he was planning. I also didn't know why I even followed his instructions, but there I was, ready to go while hoping I wouldn't regret trusting him later.
The next thing I knew, I was laying over his shoulder as he took a running start straight to the balcony and jumped. What the fuck!? Wait, does that mean he's kidnapping me?!
I heard my father yell profanities after us in panic, but I didn't care. In that moment I was just scared for my life. I squeezed my (E/C) eyes shut in fear. This was the end! We were going to hit the ground and die! Just because I've trusted this freaking stranger!
In fear I waited and waited for it to happen, but it didn't. I only remember being surrounded by weird purple mist and then landing on a leather couch in a room I didn't know. Where the heck am I?!
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•Conflicted•| Dabi x ReaderFanfiction
(Y/N) looked up to the heroes once, but now she gave them the fault for her mother's death. (Y/N) loved her father once, but now she gave him the fault for her mother's death. Her father loved his life once, but now he's drinking it away. Her fath...