"Hangover?"
The faint words were heard by her but they were so soft that she doubted her ears upon hearing them.
"Lassie, have you got a hangover?"
This time, the words were clearer and they successfully travelled through her ears to her brain where they were put to function. Her drowsy eyes fluttered and the pain stung sharply in her brain. Neither could she think, nor could she speak but the least she could do was stare at the man in front of her.
"The bar is closed." He repeated the words which he had been saying continuously to the other hungover lads in the bar, however he realised that this girl was more than just hungover. She was beaten up brutally and there were clear evidences for this. The scars on her cheeks, the cut on her left eyebrow and her messy hair, these were all the proves of how people had treated her in the bar.
But the girl was of a great courage. She held the ground for support and somehow, she pulled herself up, grunting and moaning. Her efforts were of use. Within a few seconds, she was standing straight. The man offered her some help but she gestured him to move away as she limped out of the bar.
Rain. What an unusual weather it was. The water dripped down every second but it all seemed so slow. She stretched out her scarred arm, allowing the raindrops to caress her bloodied skin and heal her scars, but the blemishes were unchanged. Her mind was still blocked and the sharp pain stung her head even more.
"Move."
The word rang through her brain, but she was unable to do anything, due to the lack of senses.
"I said move."
Once again, the words came in contact with her ears but this time, she did move aside without thinking. Her eyes slowly rose and they converged with the speaker's dark brown eyes. He scoffed, pushed her and walked into the bar, while she remained feelingless. Her heart was beating slower than its normal pace and naturally, she found it difficult to breathe. With a hope of getting some support, she limped back into the bar and let out her last word; "help," before her vision turned unclear and she fell on the wooden ground with a thud, catching everyone's attention.
The brown eyed redhead who she had encountered outside the bar was staring at her constantly and he was the one who made the effort of getting up, picking her up into his arms and then making his way out of the bar, he put her in his grey Lamborghini. He was definitely sober and had pure intentions. The state in which she had been was horrifying but he was the only one who had pitied her amongst the several people in the bar.
Whilst driving, he would occasionally turn around to figure out if she was breathing by checking her pulse. He knew that he would reach the hospital on time because he trusted himself more than anything in the world and truly, he reached the nearest hospital too soon than the time he had estimated.
She was carried by him, still breathless and unconscious, but due to his quickness and calmness, he was able to find a doctor who instantly realised the problem just by looking at the girl, and it was not long before she was taken to the emergency room.
He felt as if he had done his job, and so, he left the hospital with his head up high just like a lion. He marched towards his car like a king marching towards his thrown but was stopped by a commoner who held a pen and a paper, looking at him eagerly and desperately.
"Autograph, please?" The commoner trembled due to the presence of the notorious king.
"I do not feel like signing right now." Annoyed, he mumbled those words and brushed back his red hair with his masculine fingers.
"Oh. I am sorry. A king must never be forced to do something he does not want to." He turned around, still shivering as the king stared at him.
The commoner took a few steps away, and the king watched him walk away. He felt an unusual guilt in his heart and was forced to do something that he had never intended to do. Approaching the commoner, he snatched his pen and paper, hastily scribbled on it and handed it to him. Then, he rushed away towards his Lamborghini as the commoner wished him joyfully.
"You will be blessed, Conor!" Was the last sentence he heard as he drove away in his luxurious car.
YOU ARE READING
Broken and Fixed - (Conor McGregor)
FanfictionHe, who the whole world bows down to, whose heart is made up of metal, whose voice makes a million hearts tremble, is someone who can be broken. He can be broken by love. But not just any simple love. The requirement includes the love of a certain h...