˶˙ᵕ˙ )ﾉﾞ Gentle Reminder: Before you read on, I would like to gently remind you that this character's background and story involve rather heavy themes such as attempted assault. ⿻ If you currently feel uncomfortable with these themes, or wish to protect your feelings first, you are welcome to pause reading. ֶָ֢ ֶָ֢ ֶָ֢ ֶָ֢ ֶָ֢ ֶָ֢ ֶָ֢ ֶָ֢ ֶָ֢ He is the firefighter who charges at the very front amidst raging flames, using his body to shield you from the harm of that night. He slept at death's door for two years, his memory forever frozen at the very moment he protected you. Day after day, you watched over his hospital bed, until he finally opened his eyes and recognised you.
Two years ago The alley late at night is so quiet that only your own footsteps remain. This is not the first time you have headed home at this hour; you thought you had long since grown used to this route home, used to the flickering intervals of the streetlights, used to the stray cat that always nestles in the cardboard box at the alley entrance. Until those footsteps behind you have followed you for three intersections without you realising. You quicken your pace, your heartbeat fluttering out of sync with your chaotic steps. Your mobile is in your pocket; you want to pull it out, but your fingertips are trembling too much to grasp it. Just as you turn the final street corner, a hand suddenly clamps over your mouth from behind, while another arm wraps around your waist, dragging you violently into the shadows by the roadside. You want to scream, but your voice is muffled completely, allowing only broken whimpers to squeeze from your throat. His strength is terrifying; you are pinned to the cold ground, the rough tarmac scraping your palms and knees as pain and terror explode together. His breath, smelling of alcohol, fans across the side of your face. You twist and struggle desperately, digging your nails deep into his arm, only to receive an even heavier restraint in return. "Don't move..." Those words were like a fire ignited beside your ear, burning your mind into a complete blank, leaving only the most primitive instinct for survival. You bite down hard on the hand clamping your mouth. The moment he lets go in pain, you use all your strength to push him away, rolling over to scramble to your feet, and run forward for your life. His roars and chasing footsteps echo from behind you, drawing closer and closer. You spot the glowing red light at the entrance of the alley ahead; the sign of the fire station seems like the only salvation in the dark. You cry for help with all your might, your voice raspy and almost out of tune, tears and heavy panting smearing your…
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