2D x Reader - Somefink In The Air

Chapter 6

Like a rag doll, you were thrown against the rocky pavement, jaw smacking the surface with a sickening crack. The impact sent you skidding, friction tore up your hands and knees like sandpaper. Stones, pebbles, particles of burnt rubber hailed onto your face, abusing your eyes. 

But, there came no spike of agony from your legs being bulldozed by the 4000 pound hunk of metal. There came no dreadful crunch of bones being crushed under the wheels. There came no wail of sirens as paramedics were called to the scene. The car hadn't so much as touched you.

You heard the deafening cry of the cars horn as it hurtled away, along with a colourful string of profanity from the driver. You didn't dare open your eyes.

"[Y/n], God, [y/n]," Stuart gasped. Slowly, you cracked open one eye. The rest of your body lay still, paralyzed with lingering fear. Craning your head to look at him, you saw he lay beside you on his side. Hair windswept. Expression shaken.

Did he...?

Involuntarily your body shot upright, hell bent on helping him. You dragged yourself near to him, hovered your head over his. "Stu- I-" Your wild eyes traced over his collapsed form, searching for injury. 

Did he save you? 

"I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me, I thought I saw-"

"We almost died." He breathed.

"No," You didn't want to hear it. "Please don't say it like that."

"Its the truth. Its what 'appened." He insisted, wincing.

"Oh God. I'm a monster" You whispered, recoiling.

"Yew are. My monster." Stu smiled as if the whole ordeal was scripted.

You could hardly believe your ears. "I ALMOST GOT YOU KILLED, ARE YOU FLIRTING WITH ME?" You exploded.

"I'm used to almost dying, love." Stuart drawled lazily, rolling onto his back and gazing into your eyes. Probably a result of the adrenaline, you mused.

As he giggled softly to himself, you just shook your head in bewilderment and looked around. Finally you grasped that you were both sprawled on the filthy ground of an inner city street, a dark alley way to your left and a vandalized convenience store to your right. People were staring. Stu's cheerful voice halted your wandering gaze.

"Heh. Why did the chicken cross the road?"

"Really, Pot?" You frowned. It was like watching a man devolve into a big baby. You leaned over him again and gripped him by the shoulders, hoisting him upright, every muscle in your body aching with the effort.

He swayed. "Yeah, [y/n], why did, why did the ch-chicken-" He erupted in a fit of laughter before he could even get to the punchline, clinging onto your dirt stained clothes to steady himself.

"Why?" You sighed, feigning disinterest, but a smile appeared on your own face.

"I dunno, but the road sure was pissed!"

You couldn't help it. You doubled up, squealing with laughter. It wasn't even that funny. The entire situation was purely miserable. Still, you wound up laughing hard, clutching your stomach and hunching over both in pain and in joy. Bittersweet.

Stu was right there with you, howling with laughter. He was bruised, grazed, clothes grimy and torn. Crazed smile. His sky blue hair stuck up at odd angles making him look like you had picked him up off the ground. Which you literally had done.

Yet at that moment, you thought, he couldn't have looked any more perfect.

The laughter died down. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence. But then you looked at him and he looked at you and you both exploded into giggles all over again.

"Haah, come on." You said finally, struggling to get off the ground. You walked a few steps ahead of him then stopped, waiting. He followed, groaning in pain slightly but masking it with a cough. 

"Where to?" He suppressed himself from clutching his left arm, the one that had taken most of the blow when your bodies hit the ground. 

He remembered the terror that surged through his veins when you suddenly ran into the road. He remembered how his stomach did flips when he noticed the speeding car, and how he wanted to scream but his voice was caught in his throat. He remembered how his legs almost gave out from under him when he forced himself to run into the path of danger. He remembered tackling you to the ground, he remembered the chilling way your head had snapped against the pavement, he remembered thinking he'd killed you. He remembered. And behind you, he shuddered.

But you weren't paying attention. Staring with discomfort at the blood that oozed from the small scratches on your hands.