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𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫: "𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬"
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𝐲𝐨𝐮
i woke up to the dull hum of machines, my body sinking into stiff hospital sheets, a thin layer of sweat clinging to my skin. blinking the grogginess from my eyes, i slowly registered the sterile scent of disinfectant and the quiet beeping of monitors. it felt foreign, like i wasn't in my body. for a moment, i was somewhere else. but then... the pain hit.
everything came rushing back.
i had fainted after watching touya's reveleation.
my breath caught as i tried to sit up. a sharp ache spread through my chest, but that was nothing compared to what i saw. the scars. jagged, angry, marking the places where flames had licked my skin. my arms, my sides, the burns were still healing, but they told a story. our story. me and touya.
my fingers trembled as they hovered over the marks, each scar pulling me back to that moment. to him. to the fire, his eyes burning brighter than the flames yet colder than a blizzard. i thought i could save him but i was wrong.
i had been asleep for days, the nurses said. but it felt like years.
i pushed myself out of the bed, legs wobbling beneath me. the floor felt cold against my bare feet, the hospital gown flimsy against the chill. i couldn't stay in that room. i couldn't lie there and do nothing while everything i knew crumbled.
"hawks..." his name escaped my lips before i even realized i was thinking about him. where was he? was he okay? i stumbled toward the door, my body protesting every movement, but i didn't care. i needed to see him. needed to know he was alright. he was knocked out cold after tokoyami rescued us.
the hallway was dim, the faint light from overhead casting long shadows on the floor. i walked, each step slower than the last, but i didn't stop. couldn't. my heart pounded in my chest, matching the rhythm of the machines i had left behind.
and then, i saw him.
he was sitting in a different room, just down the hall, his back to me, his wings—or what was left of them—barely visible. they were almost gone, burned to the bone. his hair, usually wild and free, was a bit shorter now, singed and uneven. he looked... different. fragile. but he was alive.
"h-hawks," i called out softly, my voice breaking as i stepped into the room.
he turned slowly, his golden eyes locking onto mine, and for a second, i saw something in them i hadn't noticed before. something raw. something vulnerable.
