Dylan O' Brien Imagines 2 ❤️

Mitch - safe place (part. 1) (vs)

"Rapp, there is no time. You have to hide." Stan shouted from the phone while talking to the young man, who was running away from men with guns (as usual). They were shooting every bullet they had at him, and some of them were even holding two guns.
"Were am I supposed to hide, sir? There is just one, big building and it's abandoned. They're gonna find me if I go in there."
Mitch said while jumping on a car to land on the other side so he could reload his gun. He got on his knees and tried shooting at the men, killing three of them, but another one came out of nowhere and pulled the trigger on his gun. The bullet hit the assassin's shoulder and he screamed in pain, but he was fast enough to aim at the terrorist and immediately shot a bullet to his head. As his dead body hit the ground, Rapp began running away towards the city.
"Maybe I could try running away from them sir. They are too many. I already killed four and there are still five of them."
"Find a place to hide, Rapp. You're on your own." Stan said and the connection between him and the recruit disconnected. Mitch began quickly scanning every single building he could see and noticed one apartment had a window open. He started running towards the building he decided was a good place to hide, at least untill he would find a better option. As soon as he was faced with the wall of the building, he looked for fire escape stairs or anything he could get a good grip on to climb up that wall. When he finally found the stairs, he instantly wrapped his long fingers around the iron hand holds and lifted himself up, placing his feet on each step and quickly climbed to the open window he had previously seen. He got in the apartment with a smooth movement, but hitting his wounded shoulder on the window frame, action that made him hiss and grunt painfully. It didn't take much for him to notice he had broken into someone's bedroom and even though the room was dark, he could still picture posters and photos on the walls. He took three steps forward, looking around as his eyes began adapting to the darkness. All of a sudden, the door opened and the light turned on. The assassin's eyes slightly cringed at the sudden amount of light before he could finally see clearly: in front of him there was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, with no make-up and only an oversized sweater on with boy shorts underneath, hair tied up to form a messy bun. Her eyes were wide, mouth slightly open and body still like stone. She was terrified. Mitch's eyes widened when he realized he was scaring the hell out of her, so he slightly stepped towards her. Her mouth opened more to let out a fearful scream, but before any sound could escape her lips, he quickly put his large hand on her mouth. He closed the door behind her with his foot and gently pushed her against it.
"Shh, shh, I'm not going to hurt you." He whispered trying to calm her down, but the girl couldn't stop sobbing and whimpering, even with his hand still on her mouth, while the index finger of his other one was pressed against his lips to make her shush.
"Hey, hey, I know you're scared, but I'm not going to hurt you, I promise okay?" he said and this time she found the strength to nod in response and he took his hand off of her mouth. She closed her eyes and a tear rolled down her cheek, the sight bringing a pain to the young man's heart and he immediately wiped it away with his thumb. She gasped as his hand rubbed gently against her cheek and she felt relieved as she could tell herself that maybe he was actually going to leave without hurting her.
"Why are you here?" she asked with the little of voice she could manage to find.
"I'm not here for you, okay? I just have to hide for a bit."
"Hide from who?"
"From those men." he said pointing at the window and she slowly walked towards it, eyes scanning every bit of what was in sight to find the people he was talking about. She looked down and saw five men holding guns and bombs getting in a van.
"They're leaving." she whispered and the man rushed to the window, the quickness of his movements making her jump.
"They're not leaving... they're just waiting for me to come out. You have to let me stay." He said. Her eyes were full of questions, he could see it.
"For how long?"
"At least untill I find another place. Please, they're going to kill me..."
She looked at her feet and then in his eyes. They weren't the eyes of a murderer they were supposed to be; it was like she could only see good things in them. She slowly stepped closer to him and hovered her hand over his wounded shoulder, and he looked at her hand with sadness in his eyes.
"I have to bring you to the hospital, I work there, I'll cover you."
"No. They'll find me and kill everyone they see. They'll kill you too. Do you know how to take care of bullet wounds?" he said and she slowly nodded, walking away in her bathroom. She took a bag where she kept her first aid kit with everything she needed to clean and stitch up a wound. As soon as she came back in the room, she closed the window, soon followed by the curtains.
"Sit down, please." she said placing her bag on the bed, taking Mitch's hand to make him sit down. He did what she had told him and sat on her bed next to her. As she opened the bag, the young man saw needles, alcohol, bandages and scissors, all items that she took from the bag and placed on the bed.
"You need to take off your shirt." she said grabbing the hem of his shirt and slowly pulling it up, but he stopped her.
"Can you do it with my shirt on?" He said and her brows furrowed in confusion.
"No, I'm sorry I can't. What's the problem?"
"I don't want to scare you."
"Don't worry. I need to clean the wound." She said and, as he slowly nodded, she gently pulled his shirt up his chest, shoulders and head. She placed it on the bed next to the bag and took some cotton, pouring alcohol on it. The girl moved closer to him, gently placing the cotton on the wound. He hissed and she put one hand on his cheek.
"I'm sorry..." she whispered and he nodded, smiling weakly. When she decided the wound was clean enough, she took a pair of iron pincers.
"I have to remove the bullet now..." he closed his eyes and she did so, a stinging pain rushing through his body. She removed her hand from his shoulder, but he took it in his and held it tight to calm the pain. She gasped and wrapped her fingers around his hand to help him with the pain and he sighed. When she had finally removed the bulled, she put a bandage on his shoulder and gave him a nod, signaling that the wound was now safe from any infection.
"Thank you." he said and she turned around, taking his shirt and throwing it in the corner of the room where she kept the dirty clothes. She got up and walked to her wardrobe, opening the big wooden doors looking for a shirt for him. He got up and walked towards her, leaning against the wall next to the wardrobe and her eyes fell on is well toned chest and finely defined abs, that she noticed only some time later, were covered with several scars. Her mouth opened a bit in horror: what has this poor man been through?
"This is why I didn't want to take my shirt off. I look like a monster."
"I don't care about it." she said taking a big, black shirt and standing up, giving it to him. "I find them kinda cool, actually. They make you look stronger, braver. Think about this: each one of 'em reminds you that you're still alive, even though bad things happened to you. They're not marks of shame or death, but victory, pride. I have scars on my chest too, but I couldn't do anything to stop it... those are shame marks I'll always bring with me." she said and her eyes started filling with tears.
"Who did them to you?" he asked and she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, looking at her feet.
"My ex boyfriend. Whe-when I dumped him, he got angry and said that I was only his. He threw a wine glass at me and hurt me a lot, but it wasn't the first time. He was... really jealous."
"I'm sorry. Does he still bother you?"
"Sometimes he leaves notes under my door where he says that he's going to kill me one day, but I always ignore it."
"If I see him leaving one of those notes, I'll have a talk with him..." he said and she smirked, looking up at him.
"How are you feeling?"
"Really good. You're a very good nurse!"
"Do you need some rest? You can sleep on my bed if you want."
"It would be amazing, thanks." he said and walked to the bed, laying down. She took a blanket from the wardrobe and put it on him gently, while his eyes were already closed.