How Far I've Come (Keith x Reader)

⚪︎Lost and Found; Chapter Twenty-Seven⚪︎

"Let's go. Hurry." The man hustles you, grabbing your forearm with a steel grip and attempting to drag you across the dance floor of the party hall. In one jolt, he managed to show his entire escape and who he intended to take with him. However, within the first second, at that first struggle you showed against his action, he stopped and raised an eyebrow. "What are you waiting for?!"

"I asked you politely not to touch me!" You say, quiet, angry and spooked. People are staring, and although it's only the few around you, that number could easily grow. How your brain hates that idea so. You keep tugging, stronger and meaner each time, but his grip is solid. "Leave me be until it's time!"

He's getting to an angry-agitated level, one where you fear he might start taking his anger out on you if you keep resisting. "Time for what?!"

"The dance!" You whisper-scream. "The one I promised you not even five minutes ago!"

He lets go of your arm, causing you to rub it out from the tightness he had grasping your skin. That's two tonight, ( in the context of: how many of Y/n's forearms can men grab before the end of a party that never seems to end?)

"You were kidding." He scoffs, shoving away the title of idiot. "It was a plan. You winked at me."

"I did nothing of the sort. You were on the verge of killing my fiancé." You sneer, turning on your heel again. There's too much chaos, too much stress and nerve-wracking events that might wrack all of your nerves altogether. In less than an hour you've managed to make everything go as wrong as possible, even more chaotic than anything Ezor has predicted for you. Which, reminder, was nothing.

"Fiancé." He mutters disbelieved, distracted.

"You can't just sit there and tell me that you don't remember my face when you look at it." He bends down, grabbing your small hand in his calloused one and resting it on his face. You yank it back, disturbed by the gesture, and his eyes turn dim and upset. Tonight, you decide, you won't be afraid of him. He can't hurt you.

"All I cam remember is you putting me down for a choice I didn't make," You say, feeling the weight of his heavy, hard-sole anger between your shoulder blades. "I've seen you in a dream- no, a nightmare- and nowhere else."

He sighs, as if the fact that he has to say what he has to say, the knowing that what he has to force out of his throat is unbelievable. He looks hesitant, but every time it looks like the pressing option of leaving grows, just one look at you sends him back to the center of the dance floor. "My name is Keith. Keith Kogane."

After his little "let's go" stunt, you make sure that the handshake you offer him is short and stubborn, completed with an iron grip that you give no remorse for.

"You used to live on Earth."

"I knew that much, I don't exactly have the most violet complexion in the room." You fold your arms, your sentence a halfway point between sarcasm and light joking. No matter how strong of a guard you have up, you enjoy calling yourself out at any time. Keith looks down when he smiles.

"What do you remember about it? About Earth?" He asks, mullet turning upward at his neck, as if you had just noticed the stylistic curve in his do.

You hesitate, beginning to twist your fingers and pop your knuckles out of pure anxious habit. "Nothing good." You mumble, popping your dominant hand's pinky. "I had a lot of family problems, but it's hardly a healthy subject. How did you know where I was born? Do I stand out that much?"