POV: Coming back from a mission (gone wrong)—Zayne fic ⛇
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Protecting Linkon's citizens is your responsibility as a Deep Space Hunter, and you typically feel relieved after a mission. Even Hunters had bad days, though, and this mission had gone horribly…wrong. Your captain, Jenna, had sent you and a team of hunters to investigate recent wanderer attacks near the city. The Metaflux energy surrounding the area was strengthening, leading to the manifestation of wanderers. What started as an easy task turned into chaos, with the wanderers causing more destruction than expected. Nowadays, you’re always on edge, uncertain of what each day might bring. Half of a building collapsed in Linkon’s center; luckily, there were no casualties, but injuries still occurred.
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You had gotten rather injured trying to help fellow hunters out of the building in time before it collapsed. A hunter, half your age had gotten stuck underneath a wall of debris and rubble. Any other hunter would have left, saved themselves first then others. Not you. Seeing them struggle pulled at your heart. Instinctively, you moved to help, using your back muscles to lift the wall and free the trapped hunter, then carefully lowered it back.
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You were about to run…but another section of the building’s wall fell. Without time to react, you shielding your head and neck with your arms to minimize impact. The heavy wall hit you, hurting badly but nothing you weren’t used to. You waited five minutes or so, until you were sure no further collapses. Then slowly crawled out with your upper arm strength. Your colleagues soon arrived, helping you get to the paramedics rushing to the scene. You sat at the back of an ambulance truck, you had gotten your injuries taken care of, and you sat there with a blanket covering you. You say lost in thought until your phone rang. Seeing Zayne’s name, you took a deep breath, preparing to fake being okay, and answered.
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You: “Hey! What’s up!”
…..
Silence on the line. Just as you were about to hang up, thinking it was a miscall, another voice spoke.
Zayne: “Must you always pretend to be okay?…”
You were about to question hin when it clicked—you saw the news helicopter, recording the scene. Plus the multiple news archors standing and covering the incident behind you. Zayne must have seen it too. You sighed before replying.
You: “I’m okay, really—“
Zayne cut you off.
Zayne: “There’s a fine line between being ‘okay’ and being injured. Why must you always downplay your pain?… It’s infuriating.”
You stayed silent, knowing Zayne’s words were true. You couldn’t argue. After a moment, he spoke again.
Zayne: “I was worried. You could have died. Your life isn’t something to gamble with especially when I—…when there are people who would miss you.”
His concern and frustration were evident, even if hidden. He was deeply worried about you.
You: “I’m sorry…I know I was reckless—“
Zayne: “I don’t want apologies. I want you to stay safe from harm…”
There was a pause, then he said.
Zayne: “I’m on my way.”
You: “You don’t have to come… I can get home alone.”
Zayne: “No excuses. I’m two minutes away. I’ll take you home.”
His voice was firm, resolute. You knew it was best to agree rather than concern him further.
You: “Okay, see you in two…?”
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You sighed, stretched, and hung up the phone. You could already feel the tension that would arise on the way home between you and Zayne. A black car finally arrived on the street where everything had occurred. The automobile blares its horn and switches on its low beam. The sudden light makes your mind go blank for a moment, and your eyes squint. Then you see Zayne standing just in front of you.
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Zayne extends a hand without saying anything. Awaiting your acceptance. He assists you in settling into the passenger seat once you take his hand. You can see he was upset even though he doesn't say anything the entire time. By the look in his eyes, the clenched jaw, and his furrowed brows. You stayed quiet, you fiddled with your hands. Zayne took hold of your seatbelt and drew it forward. Gently fastening your seatbelt. He moved to the opposite side of the vehicle.
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Opening the door and getting in. He started the engine, pulling out from where he had parked. He started to drive towards your apartment. As you sit in the passenger seat, you don’t know how to break the silence; so you settle on studying Zayne's expression through the rearview mirror. You tell him he was staring back, his green eyes softening as he glanced at you before looking back at the road.
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You, however, kept staring. You began to feel sleepy, you had quite an eventful day. You were hardly able to relax at all, you found solace in Zayne’s presence. You closed your eyes, letting yourself drift off. Before you fell asleep you could've sworn you felt Zayne’s driving became softer.
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When you got to your apartment, you were still unconscious. Zayne pulled into your driveway and parked the car. He got out of the car and walked to your side. He opened the car's door. He looked down at you, watching your sleeping face for a moment. He leaned forward, his warm breath tickling your ear as he said. His tone is gentler.
Zayne: “Are you going to sleep there all night?”
Zayne asked, and when he received no response, he considered whether he should awake you. Zayne soon surrendered and unbuckled your seatbelt. Zayne made sure to hold your head as he lifted you up. He carefully closed the car door. He locked the car. Zayne carried you up the steps of your apartment, holding you in his arms the entire while. When he arrived at your front door, he easily entered the lock combination because he had been to your house a few times before. He never knew the code by heart, but he opened the door to your apartment.
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Zayne switched on the lights and extended a hand. Zayne turned on the light and walked to your room. Zayne's eyebrow curled in frustration as he glanced around your messy room. Zayne hesitantly laid you down on the bed after pushing aside all of the stuffed animals you had on it. He debated if you were truly asleep as he gazed down at your sleeping body. Or if this had been a ruse to get out of a talking.
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Zayne looked at your face. He noticed a strand of hair that had fallen, nicely framing your face. Zayne extended out his hand and neatly placed the strand of hair behind your ear. Zayne watched you and drew your bangs to the side. He leaned in closer, his lips touching your forehead. His voice sounded strained and fragile.
“Next time, I’ll be the one to protect you..”
A soft promise.
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