Multi-fandom imagines

Lucaya- Bulletproof (part 1)

This is AU about Lucaya, as you can tell from the title. It's a little weird, and some may not like it, and I understand that. I just wanted to try it. This is written from Maya's p.o.v..

          I felt the pain in my heart before I felt the pain in my gut. 

          He had betrayed me. He had betrayed all of us. 

         My only question was, Why hadn't I seen it coming? Looking back, most of  the signs were there.

          He was secretive, but he had never lied to me. Until now. 

          Yes, he had hurt me. Yes, He had made me feel jealous. Yes, he had played with my heart, and yet I kept coming back to him. 

          He drew me in like a moth to a flame. Except this flame took the form of a handsome blonde haired boy with piercing blue eyes. Eyes that had such depth to them, it made him look mysterious, possibly even dangerous. 

        And that's what he was to me. Mysterious. Dangerous. Maybe that's what drew me in. I wanted to change him. To be the one that tamed the bad boy. Be the one to make him see the light. 

         But, most of all, I wanted to feel love.

         Lucas's love.

         And I felt it alright. Right to a bullet in the gut. 

         I placed my hands on the floor on either side of me, attempting to push myself up. 

         A searing, crippling pain coursed through my entire abdomen, causing my vision to go spotty. Black and white dots danced around the edges of my eyes. I cried out and sunk back down the wall. 

        I wanted to give up, or faint, or something so I didn't have to feel the pain. 

        But I wasn't going to. I had to suck it up, face him, and hope I don't fall back into his arms at first glance. 

         I searched the empty room I was in, looking for something to help me stand. Maybe a crutch, or a table. 

        But instead, I found nothing. 

        There was a desk in the far corner, with knives and power tools cluttering the top. I shuddered at what those would be used for.

         My eyes kept scanning the room before landing on a chair. It was about five feet away, and there was a rope hanging above it. The rope was fashioned into a sort of noose. My blood ran cold.

         I shook my head to clear it and kept trying to think. Just then, a light bulb went off. 

        If I could just get over to the chair, I could use it hoist me up to the rope, and then use the rope to pull me the rest of the way up. Then I could go find Lucas. 

       I took a deep breath and placed my hands on the floor again. 

      Ignoring the persistent pain in my abdomen, I swung my legs around so I was on all fours. 

      My stomach was killing me. Literally. 

      Using my arms and my upper body, I drug myself toward the chair, until I was directly in front of it. I took a deep breath, gritted my teeth, and pulled my torso onto it. Holding my weight on one hand, I reached up as high as I could, finally feeling the rough material graze my fingertips. I clutched the rope until my knuckles turned white. 

        Clenching my jaw against the pain, I pulled my body up so I was standing. The room spun around me, and I hung off the rope, trusting it to support my weight. I closed my eyes and waited for the nausea to pass. Finally, when I opened my eyes, I had very pronounced tunnel vision. I took a moment, letting me get my bearings back. 

          I braced myself against the wall and staggered into the hallway. 

           Unlike that room, everything was white. The walls were white, even the floor was white. 

          I heard a faint sound, like something was dripping. I looked down at the floor.

         One, two, three drops of blood began forming a puddle beneath me, staining the sterile floor crimson. I held back the bile that rose up in my throat and kept walking. 

         My vision grew spotty again, and I had to rest until it cleared. I clamped my hand tighter over my wound, trying to stop the blood. Trying to keep the floors white. Lucas hates dirty floors. 

          I took a few more steps, rounding a corner. Shouts echoed from the end of the corridor, behind a bright red door. The first voice was rough and gravelly, like stones falling through a rock tumbler. I wasn't quite close enough to make out the words. 

          The second voice spoke, and I stopped in my tracks. A shiver ran down my spine, and it had nothing to do with the bullet hole in my stomach. 

         The voice was deep and smooth, like velvet. It was beautiful and calming, although he was definitely mad. His voice was one of my favorite things about him. 

         I felt myself falling for it, being drawn in again. I reached up and quietly slapped myself in the face before moving closer to the door.  

         The door was bright red, and had intricate designs laced around the edges. It was a stark contrast with the rest of the walls. There was a slim crack between the door and the wall, just big enough to see through. 

        Lucas was standing a few feet inside the door, in front of a fireplace. His palms were resting flat on the top, and he had a hard look on his face. The fire cast shadows across his face making his jawline even more pronounced. Even when he was mad, he was beautiful. 

          He looked tired, like he hadn't slept for days. Which he probably hadn't, as he had spent the last three trying to get information out of me. 

         Information about drugs. 

        I hadn't known anything about said drugs, and I had told him that. That was when he had shot me. 
        There was a small amount of stubble on his face, pronouned by the firelight. His hair had grown a bit more shaggy and unkempt, and yet, he still looked cripplingly attractive.

          At that moment, there was a breath-taking pain in my stomach. I got light-headed, stumbling into the door and pushing it open. 

        I fell on my side, my vision blurred and fuzzy.         

Unedited.
Should I do a part 2??? I mean, this was kind of a cliffhangers, so I'm thinking I should. What do you guys think??

~Austin