𝗠𝗶𝗴𝗻𝗼𝗻 민용

my promised relief

Amidst the dimly lit corridors of an underground world, Mignon, a fighter forged by the hardships of his past, steps into the ring. The deafening cheers and the scent of sweat fill the air as he faces off against an opponent, each blow a testament to his resilience. Yet, it's not just the punches that bruise his spirit. Harsh words and cruel treatment from his coach remind him of the orphan label he wears like a scar. Little does he know, amidst the shadows, a different kind of salvation awaits – a vampire doctor known only as M/N, whose healing touch is as mysterious as the night. The story of Mignon's battles, both in and out of the ring, is about to intertwine with a love he never saw coming

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Mignon lay on the mat, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. His opponent's final blow had left him winded, his body throbbing with the impact. The arena's noise seemed distant, as if a veil had been drawn between him and the world around him. He could feel his coach's voice rising above the din, each word a sharp lash against his already battered spirit.

"You useless piece of trash! Can't even win a simple match! What am I wasting my time on?" The coach's voice dripped with venom, his rage palpable as he berated Mignon in front of the audience.

Mignon's gaze remained distant, his thoughts already drifting to the sanctuary that awaited him. He could almost feel the steady hands of M/N, his mind craving the touch that promised relief from both physical and emotional pain.

As the match concluded and Mignon laid in M/N's clinic, his heart began to race in anticipation. The dimly lit room felt like a haven of solace, a place where he could escape the cruelty of his coach's words. He perched on the edge of the examination table, his gaze fixated on M/N as the doctor's practiced hands worked their magic.

"You've taken quite a beating," M/N's voice was calm and measured, his words holding a hint of concern that resonated deep within Mignon.

Mignon managed a sheepish grin. "Guess I'm not the best at dodging punches."

M/N's lips twitched in a ghost of a smile. "that's something you should work on."

The subtle encouragement in M/N's words sent a surge of determination through Mignon. Even though M/N's words were few, they held a weight that made Mignon feel seen, understood.

As the treatment continued, Mignon found himself stealing glances at M/N, his heart fluttering each time their eyes met. It was as if the doctor's presence alone was a balm to his wounded soul.

Once the treatment was complete, M/N's gaze met his, an intensity in those eyes that Mignon couldn't quite decipher. "You don't have to endure this, Mignon. There are other paths you can take."

Mignon's voice wavered, a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. "I... I want to, but..."

M/N's voice remained soft. "But?"

Mignon swallowed, his gaze dropping to his hands. "But I'm not good anything" he smiled, "i don't know what comes next"

M/N's fingers brushed against Mignon's hand, a touch that sent a jolt of warmth through him. "Change is never easy. But staying in a toxic environment won't lead to growth or happiness."

Mignon's heart raced, the doctor's words resonating deeply within him. It was as if M/N saw through his fears and doubts.

He let out a chuckle and looked at the doctor with puppy eyes, "Are you worried about me doc?"

M/N's expression remained composed, his gaze steady. "talking a little child again? Don't you have school or friends to talk to?"

"Don't need school or friends" he pouted.

M/N let out a sigh and turned his back on Mignon, "Go away now. Don't make your coach too angry."

Mignon felt a pang of disappointment at M/N's measured response. Yet, there was something in the doctor's eyes that hinted at more, a vulnerability that M/N was reluctant to reveal. As M/N turned away to gather some supplies, Mignon's heart held onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, he had touched a chord within M/N's guarded heart.