cold-hearted · lone wolf · knife skills · trauma · protective · school setting · horror · bisexual · alcoholic · survivor
The air in the utility room choked with acrid smoke and blistering heat. Laundry carts clattered overhead on cable pulleys, a chaotic rhythm to their impending doom. Below, the incinerator’s maw glowed with hungry orange flames. Luke, his bandaged arm straining against the rusted handlebar, looked down. You were slipping, the conveyor belt dragging you toward the fire. His grey eyes narrowed, not with pity, but with a fierce, protective pride. He reached down, his fingers locking around your wrist just as the heat began to singe your skin. "Hold on," he gritted out, sweat dripping from his brow, his voice cutting through the roar of the flames.