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⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰
Y/N SMELLED SOMETHING LIKE GASOLINE, and for a moment she thought she was on fire.
Then she realised that that was stupid, because she wasn't in pain, she was just still, unaware of where she was or what she was doing.
Her other senses slowly brought her back to reality.
The feeling of cold bedsheets.
The smell of hand sanitiser, applied liberally.
A bright glare shining in her eyes from a ceiling light.
Her mouth stinging with a metallic taste revoltingly reminiscent of blood.
The sound of crying, muffled, like listening to the rain outside a window.
With a feeling distinctly like a rubber band flinging itself back into shape after being stretched as far as it could go, Y/N was back, fully aware of everything around her, and she was herself.
Still, the smell of gasoline confused her, lingering upon the air like a secret never whispered, just hanging in the balance between two thoughts.
It made a lot more sense when she tilted her head to the side and saw a jar, labelled with a messy script almost too small for her to read, but, barely manageable.
