The Day We Met: Damien Haas x Reader (REWRITTEN)

I

Heart Racing, lungs burning, and the feeling of cold concrete beneath my bare feet. Running has always been a huge part of my life, constantly fleeing from dangerous people and even worse trauma that follows. I hear heavy feet in pursuit of me, but I don't dare turn around.
"You can't run forever!"
I keep pushing until my lungs scream for air, and my feet bleed from the sharp concrete. Nowhere to go and no one to turn to. I just keep running, for freedom, for safety. I feel a sharp tug at my shirt, causing me to hit the ground hard enough to rattle my skull. It takes me a minute to regain my composure, just for it to be taken from me shortly after, by a rough blow to the head. 1, 2, 3..

I shot up struggling to catch my breath. The normal nightmare of the night. You think I'd become accustomed to it, in fact I don't even remember what it's like to have a normal dream. I reach out to the hotel night stand, and turn on the old dusty lamp. It doesn't look like it's been cared about for years. Seems fitting. I take a glance at the digital alarm clock that reads 5:30 am. I have to be at the free classes in a couple of hours anyways, might as well get up and shower. I stand up and make my way to the mirror and stare at the bags under my (E/C) eyes. If it wasn't for the exhaustion, I'd almost say my eyes were something worth looking at. I scoff a little at my thoughts before stripping off my shirt and bra. I stare at my scarred body. From battle scars to self inflicted weakness, I'm covered. I mumble to myself

"Worthless."
Before stripping the rest of the way and hopping in the shower. I started to scrub my body, only getting rougher the more I played back the memories. Thinking I could wash the pain away. To no avail. I take a deep breath before finishing my shower and getting ready. I try avoiding the mirror as much as possible. I want to try and seem a little normal today. I took a lot longer in the shower than I expected, I only have an hour to kill before I need to leave. I got dressed in an old pair of black torn jeans, and a dirty black hoodie. The perfect outfit for my mood, I guess. The damn hotel room doesn't even have a TV. I cursed to myself, wishing I had something to entertain myself. It doesn't surprise me though, it's all I could afford with what I had saved up. I need to find a job quickly. I spent the next hour staring at the ceiling and playing back my past, trying to find a way things could've been different. It always sucks only having your thoughts to entertain you. I slip on my cheap shoes and head out. Thankfully, it's only a ten minute walk. I was lucky they had a hotel so close. I stood at the bottom of the three step staircase, trying to find a reason to talk myself out of this. I know it'll be better in the long run, I just have to play it out. It can't get worse, right? I take a long, deep breath before taking the first step towards my future.
'one last leap of faith.'
I thought to myself before pushing the two metal doors open. I walked up to the front desk, where a beautiful young girl was sitting with a smile.

"Hello! Which class are you here for."

I looked down at my feet.

"Multimedia production."

I tried to speak loud enough for her to hear me, but it only came out in a whisper. She tilted her head to the side in confusion, so I tried to speak up a little bit.

"Oh, you want room 157. Go down the hall, and take the first right. It'll be the third door on the left. Mr. Wiggins is running a little late, but he should be here within a half hour."

I smiled to the best of my ability, and nodded my head in thanks. I made my way to 157, following the directions she gave. The room was a lot bigger than I expected. I took the seat in the back, to keep my distance from everyone. At least I tried. Shortly after, a bubbly, looking blonde made her way over and sat a couple of seats away from me. She didn't even make eye contact, like she couldn't tell I was there. I prefer it that way, but I can't say it didn't hurt a little. Everyone else in the room was chatting among themselves quietly, until the professor walked in. I assume that's Wiggins.