𝕻𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖚𝖑𝖚𝖒 - [𝗦𝘁𝗲𝗽𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲]

𝐱𝐢𝐯. 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 — it's not about you

━━━━━━━

 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 cared for with every ounce of your being, lying on a hospital bed with tubes sticking out of them, with machines furiously beeping around them... Well, it brought out an indescribable feeling.

 There was nausea that made the skin itch; like the feeling of a million butterflies or buzzing bee's swarming the gut. There was the powerlessness that came with watching doctors parade about whilst you stood by and did nothing to help. The feeling that you were intruding, seeing someone in such a weakened state leaving them vulnerable, it felt wrong to watch. like one should avert their eyes.

 Emilia felt misplaced as she peered through the glass of the operating room with tears bubbling on her waterline, threatening to be pushed over the edge if a single machine beeped again. Her fingers were shaking as she pressed them to her lips, trying to stifle any gasps or harsh breathes that would attract pitying stares and fog up her view through the glass.

 She was well aware of the looks Stephen and Christine threw her way, but Emilia's eyes never strayed from the hospital bed... They never strayed from the bloodied body of her mentor.

 Her breathing was uneven, puffs of hot air came out in short bursts. Her cheeks were burning, a glaring red was blossoming under her skin and her body felt numb. She knew the feeling of watching people die. Yet it was no easier now that it had ever been before.

 She was panicking. That creeping feeling of hands wrapping around her windpipe was crawling over her. She had a choice, to stay and keep her eyes trained on the person who had taken her in and offered her warmth in a time where she only knew the cold of her own thoughts whilst her lungs constricted and forced her to her knees.

 Or she could tear her eyes away from the sight that was likely going to be seared into her mind for years to come — that was likely to play out at night when sleep refused to settle her — and take a minute in the bathroom to regain herself.

 Neither was good. Having a panic attack in the middle of a hospital with grieving patients and overworked staff sounded terrible, but the thought of taking a break and coming back only to be greeted with a lifeless body... She couldn't see that again.

 So Emilia held her breath and shut her eyes.

 One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten...

 It wasn't helping at all. No matter how many numbers she chanted in her head, no matter how long she prevented oxygen from entering her system, she still shook like a fragile leaf in the wind and her heart still thudded like the hooves of a raging stampede.