Chapter Text
The wind whips around your face as you run down the street towards Mista’s house. It doesn’t help that you’ve been running for well over half an hour now and the tears running down your eyes are straining your vision.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your dad yelled out in anger. “I have a fucking whore for a daughter.”
Your mom just sat in her seat at the table, crying loudly and mumbling several prayers.
In an unprecedented act of anger, your dad caved in and punched a hole in the wall, making you jump in fear, crying even harder than you were.
“Y/N…” Your mom speaks up. “I think it’s best if you leave.”
You stop running as you recall the scene that unfolded not even forty-five minutes ago, collecting your breath and letting out a soft wail. It takes you a minute to realize you’re right in front of Mista’s door. You’re scared. You’re terrified. But you have no one else to turn to.
You timidly rap on the door, awaiting an answer. Your mind is swirling with a million and one thoughts on how this will all play out. What will the two of you do? Were you ready for this type of commitment? Before long, your thoughts get cut short as Mista opens the door, eyes softening in surprise as he sees your disheveled form.
“I told them.” You quietly muster out. “They kicked me out.”
“Oh…” Mista says in a sympathetic tone. He takes no time to pull you inside his house out of the cold, and into his arms, embracing you in a much needed hug. You grab onto his t-shirt and let out more ugly tears and sobs.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” He coos as he starts to get
emotional too. His hands find their way to the back of your head and he gently pats it, swaying softly back and forth to soothe you.
“He called me a whore.” You whimper out. “This is all my fault. I’m such a fuck-up.”
“Hey hey hey, no, none of that.” Mista says as he meets your eyes, gently wiping away your tears with his thumb. “You did absolutely nothing wrong. You are not a fuck-up, okay? And you’re definitely not a whore.” He could feel himself starting to seethe at your father’s words, but that’s a problem for another time. Right now, his main priority is you.
“Come with me.” You gingerly take his hand as he leads you over to the couch and hands you a blanket. You’re too emotionally and physically exhausted to say anything, so you hum as a thank you while he wraps it around you. He makes his way into the kitchen and returns with a glass of water, holding it up to your lips with one hand and gently rubbing your back with the other while you down the liquid.
When you’re all done, Mista places the empty cup on the coffee table and coaxes you into his arms, making quiet shushing noises as he rocks you back and forth. The gesture is parental in its own right and it makes you think of your mother as well as your current situation, and you sob a little more, right onto Mista’s t-shirt. He doesn’t say anything, though. He just calmly attempts to ease your nerves.
“I don’t know if you need a place to stay,” Mista stated. “but you can stay as long as you need to. His heart twists a bit as he realizes just how dire the situation is. “Even after it’s born.”
“Mista…” You softly whisper, wiping a tear away while still laying your cheek on his chest. “I don’t know if I want to keep it…”
Mista’s gentle rocking stops. Surely he didn’t hear what he thought he did? “Y/N, you can’t mean that.”
Another choked sob rips through you. “Would you hate me if I did?”
A soft sigh escapes Mista’s lips. He could never hate you, even if he tried. You were good, gentle, kind, soft. Everything he wasn’t. He sniffles a bit at even just the thought of him hating you. He just can’t.
His mind is caught up in his own thoughts, leaving you to imagine the worst as you bite your lip to stifle any more sounds.
“Never.” Mista whispers after a bit. He leans in to gently peck the top of your forehead while he runs his hand through your hair.
Your heart does a backflip at just how uncharastically soft Mista is being. “I was just thinking aloud.” You quietly mumble. You lean up and your glossy eyes meet Mista’s concerned ones. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” You say as your lip trembles.
Mista sits up and coaxes you into his lap, placing his chin on your shoulder while his arms wrap around you. “I’m gonna be with you the whole time Y/N, so help me god.” He places a chaste kiss on your cheek before speaking up again. “Whatever you want. I’ll be right here with you, okay?”
Reluctantly, you gaze up into Mista’s eyes and nod. “Thank you.” You muster out so silently, it comes out as a whisper. You timidly smile for the first time all day. He returns the smile tenfold, lifting up your chin to meet your eyes better.
“Ah, there she is.” Mista gently mutters. “There’s that beautiful smile.” His smile is bright as he pulls you close to him, gently ruffling your hair.
You release a loud sigh of relief. Your eyes close and your breathing eventually evens out, allowing yourself to finally relax and calm down, if only for a moment. Mista lies down on the couch, bringing you with him, holding you against him while he hums and gently rubs your back.
He takes a strand of your hair and absentmindedly twirls it around his finger. It’s grown so much longer in the few months you’ve known each other. You two aren’t even dating. You met through a mutual friend years ago and immediately became joined at the hip. One night not too long ago, one thing led to another, and now here you are. Back again in Mista’s warm embrace.
“Ya know, if it’s worth anything…” Mista starts, continuing to stare at the ceiling while you continue to lay on his chest. “We could always get married. If that’ll make your folks happy.”
You immediately rose to face Mista, your eyes wide in confusion. “I…I don’t really care about appealing to my parents anymore. That’s not necessary.” You bite your lip and sigh before considering your next words. “Besides, don’t you want to marry someone you love?”
Mista softly chuckles and tucks one of your stray hairs behind your ear before he cups your cheek. “Who says I don’t love you?”
“Stop—” You weakly choke out before taking a big sigh. “Don’t do this to me. I’m so vulnerable right now, you have no idea.”
“Y/N, I’m not lying.” Mista replies matter-of-factly. “I realize now isn’t a good time to mention it but I can’t help it. I’ve loved you for so long.”
Tears blur your vision for the nth time tonight, grabbing a hold of Mista’s hand and gently squeezing it before quietly replying. “I love you, too.”
The love-sick gunslinger’s heart practically leaps out of his chest at the sound of your delicate voice reciprocating his feelings. He gently pulls you back down against him, planting a warm kiss on your temple before he envelops you in a hug.
“I’m serious though, Y/N. Anything you want or need, never hesitate to ask.” He says as his fingers find their way to your hair again. “Hell, if you wanted to, I’d take you to the courthouse right now and get hitched, and then run away. Start a new life, just the three of us.”
Mista’s enthusiasm is enough to make you chuckle, if only a little bit. “We’re not getting married and we’re not running away.” You lean up to meet his eyes, sparkling and full of love. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, though.”
He smiles and kisses your cheek several times. “Good. Never stop laughing. Okay?” He kisses the tip of your nose before he gently rubs your back. “You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.” Before you can say another word, he gently pushes you off of him before he carries you over to his bedroom. “You’ve had a long day, hon. Get some rest.” He gently places you on the bed before he rummages through his drawers for some clothes appropriate for sleeping in, as opposed to your jeans and blouse. “Get some sleep and then we’ll get some food in that belly, and then we can do some talking and planning. How’s that sound?”
You were about to protest before you loudly yawn, making Mista guffaw in laughter. “That sounds good.” You meekly muster out. He’s about to shut the door to give you some privacy to change when you call out his name.
“Mista?”
He stops and meets your eyes. “Yes?”
You timidly walk over to him, wrapping him in a hug for a long while, which Mista gladly returns with no objection. Before you depart from the embrace, you lean up on your tiptoes and plant a lingering kiss on his lips. You swear you could see him blush profusely as he smiles and avoids your eyes.
“Go to sleep.” He says with a giggle.
“I will” You reply with a smile.
He shuts the door and you finally have a much needed nap, dreaming about the life ahead of you.