TUA preference/ imagines

diego - pain

You were currently sat in your bedroom of the academy supposedly on your own. It was dark and everyone else had gone out to do their own things.

You heard the front door open and close again. Heavy footsteps filled the air. You walk over to your door, picking up the baseball bat from next to it before stepping foot into the corridor on the other side.

You slowly make your way to the front door before a trial catches your attention. Blood? You think.

You clutch the bat tighter holding it higher than it was before. You follow the trial through the dark hallways to the kitchen. The light in on and you hear grunts from inside.

You slowly edge your way into the kitchen to see a man facing the wall near the sink, his black turtle neck lifted up slightly.

"What are you doing here?" You demand answers. You see him visibly jump.

"I live here, thankyou very much," he says with a bit to his tone. He pulls his shirt down before turning around, his wide brown eyes looking at you. You always loved his eyes, the colour of them, the childlike wonder that was always in them, no matter how angry he was.

"Oh its you," you roll your eyes.

"Put the bat down, a shortstack like you is gonna hurt someone if you keep holding bats up like that," diego scoffs.

You and diego always seemed to clash, it could be about anything. In fact you could sit there in silence for the rest of eternity and you'd still manage to fight about something.

"If you continue, it will be you that gets hurt," You challenge him lifting the bat up as a threat before loosening your grip on it and bringing it back down, standing the wooden bat against the counter.

"In your dreams y/n," he laughs slightly. You begin to make a witty comment before something else catches your attention.

"Why did you have your shirt up? And what were those noises?" You ask.

"You stalking me or something shortie?" He asks with a tone you havent heard come from his mouth in a long time.

"I mean... you did come into the house when i thought i was alone for a couple more hours at least, and you're pretty loud," You reason.

"Fair enough," he shrugs.

"You didnt answer my question," you point out.

"Its nothing," he says limping past you. You grab his hand and pull him closer to you and before he can escape you lift his t-shirt up slightly. You see a stab wound, large and painful looking.

"Are you ok? That looks like it hurts," You say.

"Im fine," he says, he gets really close in your face, "dont ever do that again!"

He turns around and begins to limp away.

"why are you so stubborn?" You yell at him.

He pauses before turning around.

"What?" He asks.

"I said why are you so stubborn, i was going to help you, when i was younger training with mr hargreeves he made pogo teach me first aid. I kept hurting myself so instead of everyone rushing to my side, i fixed it myself," you shrug.

"Why would you wanna help me?" He asks. You shrug.

"Whatever," he limps over to a chair and sits on it. You look at the things he has out and you chuckle to yourself.

"Whats so funny?" He asks.

"You would have gotten no where with these," you burst out laughing, "you use salt water and pads, not sparkling water and plasters,"    (i dont know if this is true or not)

He stays silent and you notice that, you look over at him and he looks almost embarrassed.

You open a cupboard you were very familiar with and dig through it. You pick up numerous items you need and take them over to the table, laying them out in a specific way.

"You're gonna need to take off your shirt," you point out. He looks at you, those eyes making a pool of guilt seep through you.

He complies with your request and he looks at you. You make eye contact before moving down to the wound on his stomache.

"I didnt mean to upset you, if I did," You say focusing on the wound, he looks down at you.

"What?" He asks. You look up at him, making eye contact.

"I shouldnt have laughed... i should have tried to help you, im sorry, or something like that," you shrug

"Im not the only stubborn one," he smiles. You admire the way that his smile forms perfectly on his face.

"What? Have i got something on my face?" He asks. You shake your head looking back down towards the gash in his stomache.

"I've been awful to you," he sighs. You shrug.

"This is gonna hurt," you say pressing a cotton pad covered in salt water onto the wound. His body tenses.

"Jesus," he grits his teeth.

"Sorry," you say.

You keep dabbing he wound with the pad trying to keep it as clean as possible. He clenches his fists.

You finish with that before getting another cotton pad wet with plain water before cleaning up any dry blood before drying the water droplets from his abs.

"You never answered my question," he says.

You look up at him confused.

"What question?" You ask.

"Why are you helping me?" He asks.

"Because... even though we're not biologically related, you were there when i was growing up. You helped me, even if you didnt realise it yourself," You shrug before placing a large pad to his skin before taping it on.

"But i was awful," he says.

"Exactly, if it wasnt for the pressure, i wouldnt be the person i am today, so thanks... i guess," you shrug looking up into his beautiful brown eyes.

He places a hand on your cheek and before you know it, you're both pulling away from a soft kiss.

"I love you y/n y/l/n," He whispers.

"I love you too diego hargreeves..."