→ ฬђєгє เร ๓ץ ๓เภ๔? → norman x reader

31. snowfall and angels; and death

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קคгՇ 3 of ฬђєгє เร ๓ץ ๓เภ๔?

━ ๖ є ງ เ ภ ━

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ᴄᴏʟᴅ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ. A gentle cold. Caressing your cheeks as you blink, sniffling from the dryness in the air. Wet is the next thing. You realize that you are not right-side up. Laying in cold and wet, cold and wet falling on your face and lightly stinging your cheeks.

You blink, wondering.

Where are you?

Somewhere so, so, so cold and wet.

You blink slowly, and somehow you do not care. It's quite nice. You feel light– and free. Free from what, you're not entirely too sure of... but nonetheless it's a comforting feeling.

You close your eyes, and cold and wet and dark lulls you to sleep.

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You feel a low rumbling and heat hitting your face. Your head rests against a cool, clear surface, the setting beyond flying by. You try to sit up and stretch out your limbs, but you discover that you are wrapped in a warm fabric. A blue-grey, ragged blanket.

You feel anxiety fill your chest, and just as you are starting to breathe faster a voice from your left says, "Oh, you're awake. Hey, hey... don't worry, you're safe. I'm takin' you to a doctor."

You sat up, eyes widening at the machinery you were inside, so many buttons and levers. The man you assume controls it has his hands on a wheel, every once in a while shifting it to the right or left. Your breathing calms and you take a moment to observe the man. His hair is a graying black, and his close-shaved beard is speckled with white, contrasting his tan skin. He also wears a heavy brown coat and black gloves.

"So... er... what's your name?"

You open your mouth to speak but find that your throat is itchy and nothing but a raspy cough comes out. You clear your throat, swallow, and try again.

"Uh... I'm... name..."

You think so hard your head begins to ache. Name? What was it?

"I... don't...", you don't know what it is...

"You...?" the man questions.

"Don't.... Know....", you swallow thickly, panic surging inside you once again, your fingers wringing the blanket.

The man is silent until, "Do you know where you came from? How old you are?"

"N-no...," your lip quivers, who are you, "Don't."

"Do you know who your parents are?"

"N-no... Don't," your vision blurs and you begin to hiccup, your breathing quickening.

"Hey, it's okay kid, kid?"

You feel your stomach twist, and before you know it the man abruptly stops the machine and reaches over you to swing the door open.