Love/Hate (Lemon GarouxReader 🍋)

Touch and Go

This is what he always wanted. Isn't it? To be feared. To be the most powerful threat. So powerful that no one would ever dare challenge him. To be the most terrifying... Then why does he feel like this as you stare up at him, horrified. Why does he wish you wouldn't? He feels his fist clench, fingers digging painfully into the palm of his hand, not out of anger but...what is this feeling? A feeling long forgotten, his emotional repertoire shortened and condensed to nothing but anger, pride and hatred over these last months.
You feel your heart almost beating out of your chest. This boy. You used to know this boy. Boy? No, not a boy anymore. What happened? You look up at him, bruised and bloody beyond belief. You knew he got into fights but then that's what delinquents do, get into scuffles, don't they? But this is on a whole other level... The way he thrashed that man was absolutely savage. And a hero too. Why heroes? There's something wrong with this picture. Terribly wrong. And he's still looking at you. He could snap you like a twig if he wanted to. You quickly reach for and grab your phone, holding it close to your chest. But who would you even call? Who could help you now? You saw with your own eyes how he took out that huge monster.
Do you not realise you're bleeding? All that blood smeared across your pale cheek, down your jaw. This could be serious. Just let him-
He tries again, takes a step toward you.
"Don't," you try to sound confident but your voice falters, betraying you.
He can see how you flinch, shrink away from him, well aware of how unwelcome he is. But this isn't about him right now.
He crouches down and reaches his hand out, trying to brush your hair aside to assess your injury.
"Don't touch me!" you almost scream as you feel his fingers brush your warm, sticky skin, trying to hit it away, suddenly aware of the pain of your throbbing wound.
"Let me see," he says, as calmly and evenly as he can, trying again, holding your hair carefully back. "You're bleedin' a lot."
"I'm fine," you protest frantically. "Leave it!"
To his relief it doesn't look too bad, and he'd know, just an unfortunately placed flesh wound. But you're not in any physical state to be going home by yourself right now.
"You ain't fine," he growls softly, trying to pick you up, not in that humiliating thrown-over-the-shoulder way of what seems like a lifetime ago but holding you in his arms as you struggle against him.
"Don't!" you try to push him away, dropping your phone, but he's almost got you.
You ain't making this easy. He picks up your phone and pockets it for now to give you later, the main goal right now is just to hold you still.
"Put me down!" you yell. You can smell all the blood on him as he holds you securely close with an almost iron grip. It's sickening. "What do you want?!"
"Takin' you home," he states.
Now. Taking you through the main path probably won't do any good with the pile of bodies there. Fine, he'll just cut through the wooded area. It's faster anyway.
Oh God. And now he's heading into the trees. The moonlight doesn't reach in there. What is he really doing? You realise that there's no point in yelling for help. You feel like you're almost going to cry. And silently you do, without even realising it, crying over everything. Everything you don't understand anymore.
This is what he was like all along? You always thought he was just a bit of an asshole. The cocky, tough guy thing just a stupid act. Sure, he obviously enjoyed your little ongoing spat but it wasn't too out of the ordinary. But never did you think he was this emotionless. This violent. This insane. Too many memories flash your mind. All that time...this was him? And you let him into your house? You left him with your brother? The danger you put Ryo in. The angry, frightened tears just come, coursing through the bloodstains on your face, and you make no attempt to wipe them away.
But he's true to his word. Walks through the woods, not saying a word, feeling cool and detached and at the same time a turmoil inside that might just drive him mad. In his head, in his chest...something is suffocating him. But he's got enough willpower to ignore it for now and just focus on getting you home.

A few minutes later you're outside your building. The courtyard is dipped in night blue, deserted and still, peaceful, on this very late spring night. A stark contrast to the violence you've just been exposed to not ten minutes ago. It's bitterly ironic.
You try desperately to get out of his arms but he won't have it. Carries you up to the second floor and finally sets you on your feet outside your door in the dim hallway but doesn't leave, his responsibility not over yet. It bothers you as he stands looming behind you, waiting.
"Go," you say, trying to keep your voice as flat as possible as you search your pocket for your key, eventually finding it. "Just leave."
But when you try to unlock the door you find your hand shaking far too much to get the key into the little lock. You try to use your left hand to steady your right.
The sight of this clear manifestation of your fear is too much. He takes the key quickly out of your hand and unlocks the door for you. You don't know why but this gesture suddenly makes you angry. Something snaps. You try to slam the door back on him as you head inside but he's much faster and stronger than that, stopping it easily with his forearm and coming in uninvited.
"Get out!" you yell, your fury growing, masking your fear for now, the shock wearing off as he closes the door behind him and begins to pull you down the short hallway.
"What do you want?!" you don't consider lowering your voice, having no choice but to follow as he gets you into the bathroom.
It's a struggle to sit you down on the edge of the bath as you try to push him away, to be anywhere but near him, but finally he manages, keeps you there with one hand and grabs the first towel he sees with the other, holding it to the side of your forehead.
"Keep that there," he says, ignoring your death stares and your constant fighting him away. You press the towel to your aching, stinging head as he grabs another towel and runs it under the tap.
"What's wrong with you?!" You let him have it. "Who are you?!" You scream, the shock having completely worn off, as he wipes the blood off your face, trying to remain as calm as the situation will allow, ignoring your furious questioning.
"Answer me!" you push his hands away, leaping back to your feet.
"You wouldn't understand," he growls quietly, stepping back as you take up more space in this little bathroom.
"I wouldn't understand?" you're enraged. "What wouldn't I understand?" you push him back, not that it has any impact, but the gesture is there nonetheless. "What wouldn't I understand?!" You hit at his chest. "Beating innocent people to a pulp? Yeah, I can tell you I don't understand that!"
"They're not innocent," his voice rises a little too now as he grabs your wrists, stopping your annoying, weak attacks.
"What are you talking about?!" You struggle to pull free. "I saw you! And he said you'd already done the same to others! Where did you go?! What have you been doing?!"
"It's none of your business," he scowls, not letting go, making it clear who's the stronger one here, even if not deliberately. Starts to regret helping you. "They deserved it."
"They..." you're having a little trouble processing this. "They deserved...it? Who else deserved it? How many people have you hurt like this?"
He rolls his eyes. Oh don't start putting it like that. Like they're all some sort of saints.
"Wait..." you suddenly go a little white with the realisation. "All those dojos...that was you..."
"And what?" he lets your wrists drop, almost in distaste, looking down at you now. "What's it to you?"
"Have you gone completely insane?!" you prod his chest again as you look right into his bloodied face. "What is the point of all this?!"
"I said," he can't keep calm anymore either, voice rising and rising, being questioned, told off like this. As if he's some naughty little child. Who the fuck are you to get all high and mighty here? "You don't fucking understand anything!"
This is the first time you've seen him angry. Honestly, truly angry and for a second you remember your fear in this small cramped space as he seems to tower over you, but somehow, at the last moment, you find your courage again.
"I understand that you're fucked up!" you continue to yell. "That you're a sadistic asshole!" Your voice grows frenzied as you remember him in the park. "You're a monster!" You don't see the momentary flash in his eyes at those words. "No! You're worse than a monster!" Your voice, throat, is growing a little hoarse with the intensity of your anger and bewilderment.
"Exactly," he gives you a murderous grin. "Now that little brain of yours is finally catching up."
You look back, stunned into silence, turning this over in your mind.
"You want to be a monster?" you say, suddenly, deceptively quiet. "You really want to be a monster?"
What's with this drop in tone? He looks at you suspiciously. He's about to give you a sharp reply when you square up to him, pulling your shoulders back and look him straight in the eyes, piercing his gaze.
"Do it!" you command.
Eh? Do what?
"Do it!" you yell. "You want to be a monster?! Then do it! All monsters do is kill isn't it?! They don't give a fuck about human lives! They love killing us don't they?!" You thrust your chest forward again, hitting your hand against your stained collarbone. "Go! I'm right here!" You scream. "You want to kill people, then kill me! Be a monster!"
The surprise hits him a little too strongly.
"And then!" you continue, your voice growing distraught and frantic. "Who will you kill next?! Maybe you can go after Tsukiko, or Sho, or Kimi or Ryo even! Because you're a monster aren't you?! And you enjoy this! And nothing else matters does it?!"
He blinks at you. These things you're making him imagine...killing people...killing you? He starts to feel sick.
"I'm waiting!" your cry rings out through the apartment. "Here's your perfect opportunity! You're a monster after all!" You turn your face as if to give him a better shot.
"Better than being a weak fucking human," he flares before turning and making his way out of the bathroom, out of your apartment, out of this building, out...it's getting harder to breathe. He needs to get away from you, as far and as soon as possible.