Chapter Text
The variety of colorful neon shades flashed across the packed club, the bass of the electronic music thudding on the walls, rattling in your chest, making it a little hard to breathe. You’ve took about… five shots… or less? Or more? Do you even remember? No, you didn’t. You chugged your next shot of tequila as you swayed your body in the crowded space, with barely any conscious left. The alcohol and conscience battling for control in your headspace.
The air smelled like sweat, perfume, cologne, and alcohol, but the music and numerous amount of alcohol in your body was too much to notice any of that.
Somewhere in the blur, you lost control of your movements and bumped onto a man, tall, standing still while holding a cup of a beverage of some sort, most likely alcohol considering you both were near the bar. He stared at you, a little shocked but completely unfazed to your drunken madness, you couldn’t help but notice that he had a stingy smell of cologne and vodka.
He wasn’t dancing, or talking to anybody, just standing there with an untouched drink he clasped on with his fingers, he was just watching the room, like an observing crow. He looked like he was in another world entirely, completely unfazed to the blazing variegation of lights and the loud shitty remixes of the Black Eyed Peas songs.
“Careful.” he said, his voice gravelly and low, a little less audible due to the incredible amount of people talking, and the bass, the bass of that damn speaker, it made it a little hard to breathe but the music plus the bass? Made you continued those moves. Even though the DJ stage was far from the bar, the bass felt like as if you were right in front of it.
You blinked up at him, eyebrows raised with a lopsided smile. “What?!”
He furrowed his brows, “Uh, I said—”
”WHAAT?” you cut him, leaning closer, tilting your head just the slightest to position your ear to hear him better. You could hardly hear his words drowning in the DJ’s remixes.
He leaned down this time, mouth near your ear and hands placed on your shoulder, “I said, be careful.”
“Ohhhh, careful…” you parrot, while laughed with a tipsy tone. You laughed so hard you could barely keep your balance.
He held you close as you were about to trip onto a group of intimidating looking goons. Your words slurred, flirting every chance you get. That was the last thing you remembered before everything blacked out.
Oh, and his smirk. Something about that was real hot.
The next morning
A pint of conscience hits in your brain as you stretched in the bed that seemed awfully comfy. Well, obviously your own bed was comfy, but this didn’t feel like your usual bed, it was too crisp.. too… neat.
You didn’t bother to open your eyes until you felt the warmth of the sun on your face, stabbing through the curtains. You open your eyes half lidded, disturbed by the sunlight flashing on your face.
Once you opened your eyes, you were surprised to see an unfamiliar bedroom. It was immaculately tidy, the air conditioner on with the perfect temperature, and the disgustingly lavish smell of nice sheets, and these weren’t just any normal sheets, we’re talking five star hotel silk bedsheets—and a set of crocheted pillows and blanket.
You groaned, voice groggy as you brushed your nape, then running your hands through your messy hair. Although the air conditioner was cold, you felt your body temperature was hotter than normal, your body felt weaker, and you blinked slowly as your mind spun like a thousand games of merry-go-round.
Sweat dripped down your body, you felt your skin heating up, a familiar heat, almost like a fever. Your head throbbed, you still felt the pounding bass of the rhythm with your heartbeat, and the displeasing remix of the Black Eyed Peas and Childish Gambino…
It was obvious by now that this wasn’t your room, but who’s would it be?
You scanned the room, it was very minimalistic, very neat, and a pleasing sight to see combined with the golden hue of the morning sunlight. Although, as you scanned through the room, you noticed clothes on what seems like a work chair, and all over the floor. That’s when you realized, you had nothing on other than your undergarments and short pants that weren’t even your size.
You took a pause for some thoughts, going back through your memories… Ah, that’s right, you got drunk. Too drunk.
The eccentric scene of your outfit from last night being tossed over the floor and everywhere… was embarrassing enough to make your cheeks turn into a rosy blush in less than a second.
You sat up, rubbing your eyes before looking over the nightstand next to you, laid a bottle of painkillers and a glass of warm water, this must’ve been for whoever owned this place.
You leaned closer to the nightstand, squinting your eyes as you examined the painkillers before you hear a faint sound of footsteps and jolted back onto the sleeping position.
You wait… but no one ever truly showed up on the door.
You got up, hurriedly stretched your arms. You quickly reached for your shirt and tugged it over your head in a rush, fumbling with the hem as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the long rectangular mirror leaning against the wall. You noticed your pale face, almost as if you were ill… Until you leaned closer, and saw the darkened smudges trailing down your neck and body, they looked like bruises, but too small to be bruises.
Hickeys?.
Your hand flew up, your fingertips softly touching the dark red spots, your stomach dropped.
Oh god.
Your memories were hazy, even if you did remember, all of them were blurry memories you couldn’t quite process. Your chest tightened, panicking, who the hell did this? Obviously whoevers house this was… But why would you just come home to some random person?
You adjusted your tousled hair and wrinkly shirt, reaching and opening the door, your bare feet stomping on the cold wooden floor as you walked to the kitchen. You caught the scent of coffee and the sound of sizzling.
As you continued walking, reveals a tall, brunette man standing in the kitchen, working his way around the coffee machine while waiting a the stove was left on with a pan. He stood near the counter, his mahogany hair caught the morning light, accentuating his brown locks in a way that made you blush a little. If this was the guy you slept with… maybe things werent so bad at all.
Your heart skipped a beat as he turned to look at you, “Hey. You’re awake.” he simply spoke, his voice still slightly groggy, you guessed that he got up from bed not long ago.
You could feel your heart pulse rate increase as his eyes met yours. Calm. Steady. Be composed. Way too nervous in front of a man you probably came home with, and God knows what you’ve both done.
You gulped, feeling your dry throat. “Uh… yeah.”
You walked towards the counter, the ache in your head getting increasingly worse with every step. As your eyes get a sharper view of his face, you realized… this was the new agent in the VALORANT protocol, Veto. “Thanks… Um, I suppose I owe you?”
He set his mug down, crossing his arm, leaning back against the counter to face you. “You should drink water first, did you take the pill on the nightstand?” He walked to the cupboard, getting a transparent cup, filling it with water. “Here.” He handed the warm cup to you.
You took the glass with a mumbled ‘thank you’, chugging it down, before coughing. His hands pat your back “Hey, easy.” his eyes looked at you with concern.
”You werent exactly in the best shape last night, I suggest you sit down.”
You sat down, you placed your hands on the cool surface of the marble counter, still feeling the uncomfortable ache in your head.
He placed a plate in front of you, his hair was a little messy, his shirt creased, almost like he didn't really slept either.
You fidget with the edge of the plate, having no appetite whatsoever. Your throat felt dry as you spoke, voice low.
“So…” you said, not looking at him. “Did we… you know… do anything last night?”
The silence was deafening. You forced yourself to look up, eyes locking with his, your heart pounding.
He exhaled, letting the silence simmer before answering, "Let’s not talk about that.”
You stood up, “I should probably clean up,” coughing slightly, hands reaching to your neck as you feel your dry throat. “Do you mind if I borrow some clothes?”
He pressed his lips, giving a nod. “Yeah, it’s in the closet.” Veto begins to walk towards his bedroom, gesturing you to come with.
As you walk with him to his bedroom, you couldn’t help to fight the uncomfortable pounding feeling in your head, your skull spinning like a ballerina working overtime, your warm body profusely sweating. Your fingers clasped on the doorframe, catching a breath.
He was walking forward until he halts, alert of the heavy breath behind him. “You okay in there?”
You nodded quickly, feeling your throat tighten as if someone was choking you, oxygen even felt too hard to swallow. “Yeah, just a little… dizzy.”
Veto stood close, steadying your balance with a hand on your arm. “I think you should sit down.” He chides softly, along with his Senegalese accent.
You shook your head, stubborn, cutting him off. “No no, I’m okay… It’s just—” Your stomach twisted vigorously, you pressed a palm against it, a grimace etched on your face.
“Hungover sicknesss, thats all it is. Do you want more water?” He said, cutting you off, his voice calm.
Anxiety ran chills down your body, this wasn’t just any normal hangover… you were sick. Extremely, sick. You felt like puking as you continued to sweat intensely, the salty ions running down your skin made you extremely uncomfortable.
The thought of it hit, before you could even think before talking, the words slipped from your mouth. “What if it isnt just that?” You stammered. “What if I’m… pregnant?” Your voice dropped to a shaking whisper. “What if its morning sickness?”
You could see a curled up smirk on his face before he held it in, his face becoming still and firm, covering his mouth with his palm with a sigh. “You’re not, don’t be silly.”
You blinked up at him, “How can you be so sure?”
“Because,” his voice softened, sighing, “nothing crazy happened last night. Not like that. You and I had too much to drink, you blacked out, and we ended up in here. Sure, some things happened but nothing too insane to get you pregnant.”
“So we did fuck!” You yelled, heart pounding, anxiety continues to unfurl frenetically around your warm damp body.
“Hey, hey… Don’t panic.” His hands pat your back, grabbing your hand, softly guiding you towards the bed. “You were drunk, I was aware of that, and I wasn’t going to take advantage of that. Even if you were pregnant, that’d be impossible. Morning sickness doesn’t happen overnight, it’s weeks in.” You’re not pregnant, (Y/N), you’re just simply hungover.”
Your body shifted in the bed, shame heated your cheeks into a scarlet red, knowing he wasn’t wrong. “You said some *things* happened, do you mind telling me what these said things are?”
“Listen, I—I was drunk, and so were you… and I think it’s best that you should focus on your health right now, and not some hookup.” He mutters. “And you most definitely did not get pregnant.”
You sighed in relief, even though your heart was still slightly uneasy, it relieved you to know he didn't remember any of it either.
Veto exhaled slowly, “Just breathe steadier, and get some rest. I’ll bring you something for your headache.”
You sank your face into the pillow, your heartbeat still pounding as your head did. Veto moved across the room, and you could hear the faint sound of cabinets opening and the clinking of a glass. When he returned, he was holding a cup warm water and a damp cool towel.
“Here,” he placed the towel on your burning forehead, “You’re heating up, might just be the alcohol. Drink this up.” Veto hands you over the warm cup.
You obeyed, taking a small sip as your body continued to hurt. Your eyes narrowed to him, “Why are you being so nice to me?”
He looked at you for a moment, exhaling. “Because you look lost and weak, and a lot of stuff… happened.” Veto sat beside you, “You were at the club, by yourself, you couldn't even unlock your phone, I couldn't leave you by yourself at that kind of state.”
You blinked. “And you brought me here?”
“Yeah, well the rest? I’m not sure where the story ends… But, you threw up twice in the sink, passed out before I could hand you water, and I had to monitor your sleep because you somehow kept falling off the bed.”
A pause lingered as you felt a rosy shame heat up your cheeks, you swallowed the guilt in your chest. “Sorry that's your first impression of me… there's more to me than that, I promise.”
He chuckled quietly, “You’re good.”
The silence followed the atmosphere as he said his last few words in the conversation. Veto stood, adjustinf his wrinkled shirt, “I’ll make you some stew, you should try to eat something before taking them painkillers.”
“Stew?” You repeat.
He gave a faint smile at you, “Yes, Senegalese stew. My mother used to make it for me when I was under the weather, or when I had bad times. It’ll help with your mood and situation. How does it sound, eh?”
You blinked at him, “Senegalese… stew?”
“Trust me,” he said, already moving his way outside the door, standing in the doorframe. “It’s called *maafe*, I think you’ll like it.”
The stew was served in a small speckled white bowl. As you both sit in the wooden stool in front of the kitchen counter, your nostrils capture the scent of a delicious dish, and even though you had little to no appetite, your stomach growled for the stew in front of you.
You picked up the spoon and took a spoonful of the stew, it had a thick consistency and an irresistible smell. You took a bite, and the rich, flavorful taste danced on your tongue, twerked even.
“This… This is really good.” you say, pausing in between bites, you were a little amazed at how good this was… and how much of a chef Veto was
He chuckles, “Thank you, I learned from the best. My yaaiye. I made it less spicier than it originally is, I'm not sure if you'd prefer it or not, so I just went for the safest option."
After finishing the given exquisite delicacy, you and Veto didn’t notice that you two had been talking for quite some time, the conversation flowed smoother than water. A part of you wanted to end the conversation here and get some rest, but the chat between you and Veto made you forget you were ill.
As his lips were in action, continuing his sentence, you couldn’t help but notice his handsome appearance. You could see his chiseled face, curved nose, neat caramel skin, and the nicely done locks of his that held some slight beautiful imperfections. Surely, he was attractive, but that doesn’t mean you like him…
At least that’s what you told yourself.
The conversation ended around an hour after you finished eating, you could feel yourself getting tired, and Veto saw it through your mannerism and your heavy-weighted eyes. “Come on, lets get you to rest.” Veto commands softly, and you obeyed.