Shattered (Antisepticeye x Reader)

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I waited impatiently in the coffee line. My phone in one hand, my money in the other. Why was it so cold for this time of year?

I rolled my eyes, all I wanted was a hot chocolate. When I ordered my drink, the barista gave me a funny look. "Are you sure?" He asked, "In this weather?" I huffed and rolled my eyes, sliding the bill to him, "Can you just make it?" He frowned and snatched the money, tucking into the register, "Yes ma'am." I wasn't normally rude to retail or people in the food service. They don't deserve something like that. Just today, I was just a bit short-tempered. For reasons that I didn't even know. Or understand. I gently grabbed my drink and slid the boy another $10, "Have a good day." He wiped the frown from his face and tucked the bill away greatly. I shuffled out of the shop.

Children ran down the long streets of London, their parents not far from them. Across the way, I saw a woman spinning her wedding ring around her finger, she was anxious. It made me feel a little more human to have a related feeling. I sipped my cocoa and continued to walk. I didn't know what I was really doing. I didn't know if I wanted to do something, or meet someone.

I didn't even know if I wanted to be alive.

I clashed shoulders with someone. I didn't even want to apologize to them. But their touch made me cold to the bone. And I stopped. I slowly turned towards them, brown hair and bright blue eyes staring to me. A handsome man. "I-I'm sorry." I nervously stuttered. Why did I feel like this? His eyes seemed to widen as he slightly stepped back, holding his chest. I felt slightly warmer. He cleared his throat, "Ah, no, it's fine. I wasn't really looking or...anything." I nodded slowly, changing between the ground and the man. I was uncomfortable. Yet I felt safe in his presences. "What's your name?" I quietly mumbled. "Uh..." He cleared his throat again and messed around with his facial hair, "My name is Jack." He spoke through a thick Irish accent. I smiled and stuck out a cold hand. His hands were cold too. "I'm (Y/N)." His ears slightly grew red as he tucked his hands away. And now he seemed closed out. "So what are you-" "So, again, sorry." Jack rudely interrupted, "Bye." I stood, dumbfounded. I felt insecure about myself. Maybe I was too rude? Or maybe...creepy? I held my chest and continued to walk further from the man.

And my world went cold again.

When I got home, I laid in my bed. I laid and I thought about everything. I thought about the therapy, and the doctors, and 'Japan'. And it never lined up. Everything was so far away from me. Yet it seemed clear with Jack.

Only for a moment though.

My clouded mind seemed to open up for milliseconds when he grasped my hand, and it slammed shut when he let go. Maybe he was my missing piece. Maybe he was going to fix my broken record.

Or not.

I sighed and rolled back over in the bed, rushing my fingers through my hair. I needed to see him again. I needed to...feel...again. But how could I find him? And then I felt helpless again. I felt broken and destroyed. I hated feeling so dead. The emptiness was overwhelming. I just wanted to feel something again. Something that wasn't pain or any type of suffering. I wanted to be able to wake up in the morning a be able to roll out of bed without crying or wanting to bleed. Without wanting to die. I leaned up from the bed and ran a hand through my hair. It was only 2:42 pm. It wasn't too late, maybe he was still out there or something? Maybe someone could help me?

"Here you go." The waiter smiled, handing me my plate and silverware, "Is there anything else you want?" "Uh, no." I giggled, "No, no, I'm fine." The waiter slowly nodded his head and walked away. I readjusted myself in my seat and stared down at my food. I wasn't even that hungry. I guess I just didn't want to look weird sitting at a diner without food in front of me. Everything was just in black and white.  I played with my fingers and stared down into my lap. I felt out of place. I picked up the fork and stabbed into my food, slowly bringing it to my lips. And I bit. It tasted like nothing. It almost made me sick to my stomach. I pushed my plate away and leaned back into my booth. I hated this feeling so much. I hated the pit in the bottom of my stomach. I hated not having the energy to do anything during the day. I hated it all.

"Miss?" An unfamiliar voice called.

I jumped from my seat and stared up at the man with raven hair. A little amount of facial hair. "Oh, uh. Sorry." I panicked and straightened my hair, "Can I help you-" "Are you (Y/N)?" He asked quietly. I nodded slowly and stared deeper into him. He wore a nice, white dress shirt and black dress pants. A fancy watch was wrapped around his pale wrists and his fixated it as he stared to me. "Yes, I am." I mumbled, "Can I help you?" "Uh, yes, actually. I, uh...something is wrong with my daughter in the car, I was told that you could help her?"

"I'm not a doctor-"

"But wasn't your mother? She was a surgeon, wasn't she? Please help me."

I nodded slowly and stood from my seat, "I can try. What's your name?" "I'm Damien. Please come quick."

I followed him out of the restaurant, rushing slightly as we approached his car. I didn't see anyone. "Where is she?" I asked. I turned around to meet his eyes. But only met the barrel of a gun. My heart stopped. "Get in the car." Damien calmly demanded, "Please, (Y/N)." "What are you doing?" I trembled. I couldn't function, I couldn't breath. He opened the car door for me and gestured, "I need you to actually help someone, so please. Get in the car."