❣ Forelsket ❣ Keigo Takami/Hawks

[Book 2] ↬ Nurse {1}

Battered and bruised from the unexpected Nomu attack, your father had been placed under the care of the hospital - your division, to be more specific. From the minute he was admitted, your eyes had gazed upon his figure with venomous intent. This man, so prideful and barbaric, was now desperate and vulnerable. The one you had come to realise as neglectful and unaffectionate, suddenly required your utmost attention; his very survival depended upon your mercy. In hindsight, you might have allowed him the sweet release of death, if not for his younger partner, who barged through the door rather forcefully and sat at his bedside. There was an uncharacteristic tone of worry laced within his voice, so very pitiful that you found yourself fulfilling his every command - he wanted that god-forsaken man properly healed, cared for, not damaged in the slightest.

His touching concern was, honestly, quite bothersome. For years, your heart had perched the blonde-locked angel atop a ginormous pedestal, coated in gold and dripping with a concoction of admiration and love. Without many televised appearances or organised events in his honour, you were forced to scan over news articles and wade through a few minutes of online content. This charming, seemingly-unabashed man with expansive wings, beautiful and crimson like roses, had long since captured your attention and intrigue. However, the frightful happenings of recent times had provoked a hospital-visit for both heroes. It also marked your very first meeting with the casually-dressed, but somehow still stupidly-handsome man. A dissatisfaction rose quickly in your chest; you had hoped for a chance encounter somewhere more private.

Pushing those unfortunate feelings aside, you re-focused on the man on the bed, who was in the process of slipping silently away. One more glance towards Hawks' dimming chocolate orbs, and you recognised the tell-tale signs of distress. With this sadly at the forefront of your mind, you proceeded with the operation. Not once did you falter or stumble, as those nimble fingers traced the outlines of his wounds, yet you couldn't help wishing he was beyond help. This was a man who had rejected you from the moment you stepped through his door, clutching Rei's leg while screaming and crying. When he relocated her to a secure facility, for injuring your younger brother, you flew into a rage. You didn't want to recall such unpleasant memories, but something had its grubby fingers pressed down firmly on the replay button, and it refused to budge. Then, your thoughts shifted - why would someone you felt this level of idolatry towards, be willing (even excited) about working with him?

Your blood was boiling, flaring, contorting into something strange. It appeared to be mixing with your unbridled emotions, to become deathly poisonous. You had to find a mediator, some form of calmness and serenity, or else you really could risk killing the man you loathed referring to as 'father'.

"Come on, big guy." Hawks muttered, nervously fiddling with his headphones. "Hang in there."

Vomit tickled your throat as you witnessed the display, his words echoing in the recesses of your mind. Why should he care? He had known the flame hero for basically less than two days. That was nowhere near enough time to uncover his true character, dive into and pull the veil from his past. Tears welled up in your eyes - so many that they threatened to spill, to conquer your entire being. The only thing you desired was to be liberated from this room and its inhabitants, to run and hide, to cry until your tears dried up. Every scenario you had dreamed up throughout the years, crashed and burned before you; from the moment he entered the room, his gaze had been trained on the other man. Only him. It was only ever him.

His warmth and yearning were the only valuables that you had ever prayed for, and yet they would never belong to you. How unfair was life, that it refused to give an innocent even a touch of love or compassion?

Gritting your teeth and endeavouring to swallow down the sickening bile, you mouthed, "He's going to be fine...Absolutely fine."

His closing line was chanted over and over, like a witless mantra. He didn't actually seem to have acknowledged your words in the slightest.

"Please be okay."

Screaming sounded like an appealing response.

[Word Count: 723]