[being rewritten for the 1938473th time]
If it was up to Y/n L/n, she would read the summer away, lost in history books and adventure novels, finding excitement in their written words.
Meeting Lloyd Garmadon changed her plans.
Suddenly, Y/n is l...
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doctor, look into my eyes i've been breathing air, but there's no sign of life doctor, the problem's in my chest my heart feels cold as ice, but it's anybody's guess
•••••
TW: blood
The ache in my chest wasn't subsiding. It was as steady as the dread; a constant throbbing emptiness that felt both like nothing and too much of everything.
"Explain one more time," Garmadon patiently requested. While his cadence was gentle and calm, his green eyes held an urgency that sparked my panic and sent my composure into spirals. Misako paced behind him, gnawing on her fingernails. Wu stood beside his brother and listened.
I rattled off my story a second time while my knee bounced; how I had a dream that felt important but couldn't recall it, how one morning I was suddenly overcome with fear, and how it had stagnated until just ten minutes prior; when it catastrophised into something that felt far, far worse.
"It's like an emptiness," I said as my voice shook horribly. My hand rubbed my chest as if it would soothe the pain and I stared at them in helpless desperation. "We have to get to the museum. We need to make sure Lloyd's okay."
"The ninja are already in the city," Misako said, and pulled out her phone. "We'll send them to check."
"What if he's hurt?" I could never forgive myself if he was hurt. This was my fault - I should've sucked it up and told Lloyd's parents about what I was feeling as soon as we got back from that trip. "Why would I feel like this unless he's hurt?"
"Calm, kiddo." Garmadon rested his hand on my hair. "Lloyd's tougher than you think."
But it didn't feel like that. It felt like he'd been gotten the best of. It felt like he was in sincere trouble, in proper danger. My knee bounced quicker until I launched myself to my feet and joined Misako in her pacing. Pacing was a good idea. Pacing would make me feel better.
I paced right out of the tea shop.
Dusk had come quickly - I couldn't believe how fast night had fallen. How long had it been since I saw Lloyd? Since I left home? The wind screamed through the valley of the Alps and I shivered out back by the waterfall, holding my arms. How did it get so cold so fast? The loud crashing of the water wasn't enough to quieten my shrieking thoughts.
Fumbling, I pulled out my phone from my pocket and called Lloyd. Optimism careened in my chest when it rang, and then crashed horrifically when it went to voice mail. I tried his number again. I tried it again. And I kept trying until my despair grew so uncontrollable that I pulled my arm back and hurled it onto the ground with a scream of frustration.
