"Who are you?"
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His tone makes my mouth run dry.
"Y/n L/n." I state. His eyes widen and he stares at me for a few seconds. His tics come at a rapid rate, His eyes are glossy and warm. After a while he abruptly stands up and walks out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
I hear yelling outside my door but it's indistinguishable. I look around my room. It's a well lit box room. The bed is queen sized. across from me there's a vanity covered in makeup and other junk; beside it is two book shelves with a random assortment of books and records. There's a shiny old record player on the bottom shelf. There are two windows on my right and a door on my left. It's a mess in here. Clothes Posters, and Tapestry's cover every inch of the floor and walls.
It also strongly smells like weed in here.
The yelling outside gets worse, I hear something get thrown and a door slam. The tall man storms in my room with an emergency box and a sewing kit. He's changed and is no longer wearing a mask. He's got a long oval shaped face, with a roman nose and a bit of stubble on his chin and mustache area. He angrily sits down on the side of the bed, kicking the chair away.
"Hi." He's not friendly At.All. The way he said it is like when a popular kid has to work with you on a project in high-school. Uninterested and bored.
"Hey." I say, I guess I got too boring because he didn't say anything else. He takes off my arm bandage, my wound starts to pulse and ache again. When it's fully off, his finger brushes against it lightly and I flinch. Without saying a word he leaves for a few minutes, and comes back with pain medication.
"Thank you." I smile up at him, swallowing the pills and sitting up against the pillows.
He simply nods and continues to work on my gash. Giving stitches in some places, and topping it off with a Spider-Man bandaid.
"What's your name?" I ask quietly, afraid he'll get mad. He simply turns and smiles down on me, something hidden behind that smile, it doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"Brian." And with that he leaves me, just staring at the ceiling, unable to move on the bed.
I think over everything that's happened. Who the fuck is Toby Rogers? I'm so sure I know him, but after his reaction earlier he clearly isn't interested in knowing me.
YOU ARE READING
Fearless || Ticci Toby x Reader ||
Fanfiction(Sorry if this is poorly written, English isn't my first language) "If the angels asked me to join them I'd refuse, I can't imagine a heaven where you aren't by my side." (Also posted on AO3)
