Y/N gets more than she bargained for when getting to know the mystery creature that's been living in her shop silently for the past few years. She never would've imagined the sort of adventure he would lead her to, nor did she expected to be close w...
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My mind was in a haze as I opened my eyes with drawn out groan of pain. The E/C optics rolled around, lost when they found my surroundings were nothing but a watercolor blur of lights and shadows. Through the fog, I can make out two silhouettes looking down at me, making me anxious. I don't know where I am or who I'm with. My vision won't clear quickly enough. Everything feels fuzzy and aches, right down to my mind and memories. I struggled to collect my thoughts and think straight, which caused my breathing to pick up as my neck jerked a little against the soft surface beneath me. My hearing returns as a familiar, deep voice speaks in relief to my right.
"She's awake. Thank goodness." As familiar as they sounded, my mind is too dizzy to pinpoint who they actually are. My sense of touch is stimulated next as my hands shakily clutch the sheets below me. I must be on a bed. I feel a hand lay atop mine— The fingers, long and nimble, ending in points and feeling of fine leather. The same sensation greets my cheek as they caress it in a gentle manner.
Their skin felt cold and was therefore welcomed against my flushed face. Steadily, the blurs find their shapes after a few blinks, and the first person I could make out was Luther who stands at my bedside. The doctor leans over me with a damp rag which is place on my forehead. It's frigidness helped bring my mind to a more awake state. I imagine it's been soaking in ice water to get so cold— Not that I mind.
The room feels hot, or perhaps, that's just me? Could be both, considering how warm Hell usually is. Lethargically, I roll my neck to view who's on my right and find it's none other than my demonic companion. His features are a bit distorted in my sight, but no question, it's him. Phil sits on the edge of the mattress, close to me, in the form I've grown used to seeing. Soon enough, the details fall into place, starting with his four eyes and milky white skin; then, his pale pink lips with those sharp fangs hanging over the bottom one; his dark beard and brows— All of it became clear to me as Mephistopheles gives me a gentle smile, but I was less than happy to see it after all memories prior to losing consciousness suddenly came rushing back to me.
Rather than seeing the joy and relief in his grin, all I saw was a sadistic smirk twisted upon his face. My breath caught in my throat as blood began pouring down his face, drenching his black hair and pointed beard like he was under a raincloud of death. Those black orbs of his filled with the intent to kill, and I cried out in fear as I ripped my hand from him, filled with sudden rush of adrenaline. I kept screaming as I crawled away from him frantically and yelped when I went too far, falling off the bed. Panicked, I breathe heavily, eyes darting around. Everything was normal except for him. What was going on?! I didn't even care that I had fallen off. I keep moving backwards, fumbling over my wobbly arms, until I hit the wall. By this point, Phil had stood up, his expression rich with worry and surprise as he slowly came around the bed to approach me, only making matters worse.
