Hello all, and welcome back to the clinic! Today I will be prescribing you with a very strong dosage of Block B's maknae, the obvious and only cure for your dangerously spreading disease! Thanks for dropping by!
I decided I'd start out a little different today, so before going on to the scenario, let's check out some P.O fan art (ft Taeil)!
Creds to the artists~ The last one is definitely my favorite, haha. I love looking at fan art because some people are just so goDDAMN CREATIVE ! !!!! ! !! ! ! Ahem, and now... the scenario. Yes, you may question my inspiration for this, and yes, I promise I am mentally stable, so without further ado, let's begin!
*warning for slight language*
The fire had consumed the entire living area, and it wasn't your fault. You decided reprimanding the one to blame at another time, settling for covering your lips and nose and attempting tiny inhales. The smoke hadn't been the one to wake you, and if not for the sudden heat, you were sure you'd have found your end with the black gas burning your lungs. The sound was uninviting; the crackling and hissing of wood and wallpaper-the couch you were previously sleeping on, headphones in your ears, burning and shriveling to a crisp. And yet, despite the flames dancing along the walls and floor, you were trapped. The living area had become no more than a raging callous of smolder, surrounded by white and orange waves like it had been your reckoning to the pits of hell. You had tears in your eyes from the smoke, your heart racing in sheer panic. You cried out, willing for someone to be in the house or to hear the commotion from the street. But it was too loud, a panel of wood cracking like lightning before it split and tore from the charred ceiling. "Shit!" You maneuvered away from the ruckus and shuffled into a corner, eyeing a window against the opposite wall. You were on the second story, but the fall would hardly amount to the pain that would come trying to navigate through the towering flames blocking the entryway. You leapt over the fallen ceiling panel, hand cupping harder against your lips to fight the persuasive smog of smoke coming from it. The heat was near unbearable, and you shrieked as it licked at your exposed feet, but you powered through, the window the only refuge you sought. When there, you unlocked it, shoving the curtains to the side before they, too, could become one with the influential flames. “Help! Someone help me!” You screamed into the night, body half-hanging out of the open pane. No one. There was no one. The street was barren, even cars were absent on the road. You cursed loudly again, gritting your teeth. You could hear the sound of the flames, cackling and taunting, as they approached. With one more glance up and down the street, you decided to go with your earlier resolve. You kicked a naked foot up and lodged it on the frame, gulping as you looked down. The drop was no less than eleven feet, you would surely sprain or break an ankle if you didn’t land properly. “Jesus...” You exhaled sharply, and set your other foot, now crouching in the frame, filled with anguish as the drop dawned on you. And just as you were about to launch forward, there was a hand on your wrist, pulling you back against a sturdy figure. “This way!” He called, and you couldn’t see his face. His voice was unrecognizable and deep, his stature tall and thin. There were creases of burns in his clothing, so you assumed he’d run right through the flames, the singe of the material having its own distinct smell. Another panel on the ceiling caught your eye, helplessly wavering as its edges charred relentlessly. “Look out!” You called, suddenly shoving him forward. His gasp was audible as he met the ground with force, but you didn’t have much time to gauge his reaction; the heaping chunk of cindered wood brought you to your knees, crumbled under the weight. You screamed, the searing pain bringing with it the smell of burning flesh. The man had shoveled the wood from your spine, a deep groan coming from his throat. “Come on, we have to get you out of here!” His voice was raspy, whether it be because of the smoke inhalation or his natural way of word, but you didn’t pay too much attention, the ringing in your ears deafening the scene. You felt unmistakable liquid running from your neck and forehead, met with the mass of the chunked object. Your shoulders were at different angles, and if not for the dulling sensation, you figured it would have hurt like hell. Maybe it was the adrenaline kicking in, or maybe just your pure willpower; whatever the case, you grabbed the mystery man’s offered arm, clinging to him desperately as your body refused to hold itself on its own. “Almost there!” You found hope in his voice and took his word for it. He suddenly turned and collected you into his arms, the contact rushed but somehow refreshing. “Hang on.” You limply wrapped your arms around his neck, swaying as he carried you bridal-style. He charged through the wall of flame, shielding you with his arms and broad shoulders. The fire was tall, but no match for his height. He made it look easy. When he escaped the room, he immediately made for the exit. And when you were outside, he collapsed into a coughing fit, his body flush against yours as it quaked. “Are you... okay?” he asked between coughs, his face finally visible under the street lamps, beads of sweat dancing along his pale skin. You could only nod, fighting the pain in your back, but he took notice of it, lifting you into his arms again, off the pavement. He carried you to a nearby bench, and the last thing you saw was him dialing on his phone before blackness engulfed your vision, and you were out cold. ~~~ “You’re finally awake!” Your eyes blinked wildly against the burst of white light, the voice registering as familiar. You turned, bandaged fingers clenching against the hospital sheet beneath you and you took in your surroundings and the man who sat there with a grin. “How long was I out?” You croaked in a thick voice, swallowing the final remnants of the smoky evening. He leaned forward on his elbows, immediate concern filling you as you noticed his burn marks and wrapped blisters, but he shook you off with a smile. “I’ve been through worse. And about a day.” You gasped, curious if he’d stayed the whole time. “How’s your back?” You flinched after trying to move it, but the pain had seriously subsided in the hours. It must have also been bound by medical wraps, but it did feel much better. You told him it was fine. “You took quite a beating. What a tough girl you are!” You would have smiled and laughed at the praise any other day, but the weight on your shoulders was unbearable; had he really stayed the whole time? “Are you okay?” You questioned, and he fingered a bandage around his palm. “Come on, I said I’ve been through worse. How did the fire even start? The cops were asking me but I didn’t know.” You thought back to when you were in a peaceful state of mild sleep, recalling how the day had panned out. “My little brother,” You said, scratching a spot on your arm. “Before mom picked him up, he was trying to get the fire place going. I thought he had given up and nothing would come from it. But I guess there were cinders burning and no one noticed. I was nearly asleep.” Guilt flooded you and you wondered what your parents would have to say. But the man set a hand on your wrist, reassurance in his beady eyes. “It’s okay. The rest of the house was saved. Just be happy no one was really hurt.” You gave a tiny smile, warmth filling you with the tone of his voice. “Thank you... for saving me. How did you even see me?” He leaned back and crossed his shoes, eyeing a spot on the ceiling before meeting your eyes again. “I was walking by the neighborhood over. My family home is there and I was visiting. I went for a short walk and happened to hear you. Good thing I got to you in time!” “Thank you.” You repeated again, relaxing into the pillows of the sterile hospital bed. He offered a very genuine, handsome smile. “You’re welcome.” The door to the room suddenly swung open, the curtains swaying gently. In walked your mother, and you frowned as she swarmed you with worry. You let her pamper you for a moment before your tall savior suddenly stood after watching the exchange with a grin. “Let me go call your father to let him know you’re awake!” She turned on her heel after brushing back some strands of your hair. She greeted the tall man and he responded with a slight bow, and after she left, he proceeded to turn. “I’ll take my leave now that you’re in good hands.” The idea of him leaving was slightly unsettling, and you didn’t know why. Your words left your mouth before you could control them. “Wait a second!” You winced, having lunged after him on the bed, and he stopped. You asked, “What’s your name?” He had shifted slightly on his foot, you glancing his way expectedly. “Jihoon. P.O works too.” His smile was quirked, a dimple on his right cheek prominent. “I’m Y/N... Can you come back and visit me again?” The tone of your voice sounded unfamiliar to you, and you realized it probably had something to do with the butterflies in your stomach as you spoke to him. He ran a hand through his unruly, jet black hair, smile extending into a full on grin. “Of course.”
Gawwww that was fun wasn't it? Fun and ... .. . .. ... intense. If you have any requests, feel free to drop them in the comments~ Thanks for reading! See you next time!
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