blooming through the concrete [✔] (Miguel O'Hara x Reader)

Chapter 6

Miguel wakes up.

He wakes up and immediately jolts upright in the unfamiliar bed. The man takes a deep breath and for the first time in what feels like forever, he doesn't feel pain.

Miguel's gaze slowly sweeps across the sterile room, noting that he is the only patient here. As he tries to rise from the bed, he suddenly feels something restraining his hand. He looks down and-

Oh.

It's not something, it's someone.

You're snoring softly, sprawled across an uncomfortable looking chair. Despite clearly being asleep, your hand still clings onto his with unwavering strength. Miguel looks at your intertwined hands, contemplating the sight for a few seconds before mustering up a gentle squeeze.

The warmth that Miguel feels spreading through his body from merely touching your hand is unlike anything he's ever felt. It's-

He feels a sharp pain in his chest.

Of course, it can't be that simple.

He takes his hand out of your grasp.

Right now, the least Miguel can do is avoid you. He's not rushing to his grave.

Why are you here anyway? You wouldn't care in normal circumstances, why does it seem like you care now? You probably just felt bad for him after he almost fucking died in your arms.

Migue pinches the bridge of his nose. Why did he go on this mission with you? Yes, you were the only one available at the moment, but still, his own recklessness infuriates him.

He won't make this mistake again.

Rising to his feet, Miguel swiftly dons his suit, tearing off the hospital gown as he goes. He winces as he removes the needles adoring his arms, plucking them out one by one. He doesn't need them. He'll inject some Rapture when he gets back to his quarters.

Miguel comes up to the door but hesitates just before crossing the threshold. He glances back at your sleeping form, eyes lingering on your empty hand.

A lump forms in the back of his throat.

He leaves.

- - -

You wake up alone.

Getting up from your seat you notice that his bed is empty and the once-worn hospital gown is now laying forgotten on the floor.

You scowl at the sight.

Of course Miguel left you alone, why wouldn't he? Dying or not, he still hates you.

You try not to think about how miserable that makes you feel.