taron egerton ~ oneshots

seven simple questions

I love writing things that make you all sad so here's a super sad oneshot hahahah. 

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When I open my eyes all I can see is an insanely bright light shining directly into my eyes. I feel almost as if I am floating, I can't feel my body on the bed I am surely lying on. My head rests lightly against a very thin pillow that does nothing to support my head. I can hear muffled voices around me, hear what seems to be a distant beeping, steady but irregular enough to worry me. 

A head appears above me, looking down. A woman, she has a kind smile. 

She speaks, her voice is muffled. I blink at her confused. 

She says something to someone I can't see. Then she disappears. 

I attempt to shift position so I can see them better, but my body doesn't cooperate with my mind. I continue to lay like a vegetable, growing more panicked with each attempt to move. Something is wrong. 

After a few minutes the voices around me stop being muffled and I can make out words. My eyes gaze wildly around the ceiling. I try call out but nothing happens. It's like being in a nightmare where no one can hear you scream. 

The woman appears again, but this time she appears with someone else. 

Taron.

His eyes are filled with unshed tears, and I want nothing more than to ask him what's wrong, he looks so sad. But he smiles at me. 

The woman smiles at me too. "Hi, my name is Dr. Blanchard. I have a few questions for you, if you're up to answering them?"

I try to tell her my voice isn't working but nothing comes out. 

"You have a breathing tube, down your neck. So that's why you can't talk. But you can nod or shake your head in answer to my questions. Are you up to answering them for me?"

I nod, looking at Taron to calm my fear.

"Excellent." She says authoritatively. "Do you know who you are?"

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N. You must be Taron."  I say, holding a hand out for him to shake. 

He takes my hand with a grin and shakes it. "Great to meet you."

Our hands fall apart, but his touch lingers for a moment longer. 

"So you're the writer for the show then?" He asks, leaning against the table. 

"Yeah." I fiddle with my fingers, absentmindedly. 

"Cool." He smiles. "Well, I can't wait to start working with you."

"Me too."

"I think the director wants me." He eyes something behind my shoulder. "But I forgot his name. Shit."

I chuckle and whisper under my breath. "His name is Jonah, you can bullshit it from there."

"Thanks." He breathes, relieved. But then his face scrunches up in suspicion. "But how do I know you're not telling me the wrong name just to mess me up?"

I shrug innocently. "You don't know. Question is, are you willing to take that risk?"

He looks back at the director, panicking inside, then back to me. 

I smirk at him. 

"Okay fine. I trust you." He says not so confidently. 

I pat his back and start to walk off. "Good luck."