Jin-Jin!

“you don’t sound fine.” he quipped back, pulling your back flush against his torso, his grip around you was firm but gentle, he didn’t want to crush you after all. peppering your cheek with a few more issues, “you know this wouldn’t happen so much if you stayed off your phone.” miguel commented, pulling a scoff from you along with an eye roll. “of course you’d say that.”

“you know i’m right. you always get in your head after being on your phone for too long, or worrying about how you look with other people..” he hummed, his eyes meeting yours through the reflection. “if you’re gonna try to lecture me i dont—“ a light pinch at your side caused you to jolt, “what the fu—?!”

“will you shut up for a minute.” miguel stated, not asked but stated. “you always focus on bad shit that is not needed, i can guarantee nobody cares. the only opinion that should matter is yours.” another kiss placed on your cheek, miguel’s hands feeling out your sides, miguel has been handsy for as long as you’ve called him yours, and he’s called you his. “if you keep worrying about stuff like this you will miss out, gorgeous.” his voice loud and clear, small kisses moving downward, from your cheek to your neck..

“we don’t have to go out if you don’t want to, we can stay home—i didn’t want to go to the get together to begin with..” miguel muttered, “but they invited us—“

“they’ll live if we don’t show up. we could go do something else, you know? you’re already all dolled up and pretty, would be a waste for you to stay inside.” his hands slowly turning you around, as they moved to cup your cheeks. “we could go have dinner, then go see a movie if you want? or we could go to that roller skating place you love..” the offer of doing something miguel wasn’t too fond of made you giggle, “didn’t you say you would kill yourself if you had to go back again?” you managed to get out, that smile fighting for its place on your face.

“if it makes you feel better then i’m willing to suffer through it..anything for you, beautiful.”

— authors note; IM SO MAD MY LAST ONE DELETED STILL UOU DONY UNDERATAND RAAHHH, but here’s the only surviving screenshot i had of it (i was getting my brother to beta read it), so take this as like..uhhhh a treat ig, okay bye bye

you were never a fan of classical literature…well, at least not all of them, the best way you could describe them was like “eating old pussy” as your friend would say in a negative sense. a bit crude, but it describes it pretty well. headphones secure onto your head, mellow, soft tunes, soft enough to have them on full volume without them disrupting your focus on the book or causing an oncoming headache. just pleasant sounds, and hopefully pleasant words to immerse yourself into your most recent book..pride and prejudice—something you haven’t gotten to yet..it’s something you wanted to…how would one put it—uhm, taste test? yeah yeah, taste test the book.

get a sample of what you would be buying with your money “big girl money” on if you did buy it blindly at that lovely, lovely bookstore you frequent. you go there so much the employees know you by damn name. it’s nice though..most of them are nice to you at least. thoughtful even. it’s nice to rant happily, or negatively about your recent reads or something that has been on your to-read list for a bit.

in other words; you wanted to get the most bang for your buck. especially in this economy. but hey, anything for your babies!

flipping another page carefully, oh so gentle fingers treating each worn and well “loved” page. eyes thoughtfully taking in each word, processing, and even going back to re-read something if you didn’t quite understand, or catch what that meant. your notebook sat on your other thigh, pen secured in the small spiral holding the pages together..this was your book notebook. the one where you jotted down thoughts, feelings, questions, small details you’ve noticed; like parallels you may have caught..basically—a placeholder for a partner that..you did not have.

which sucked. it sucked literal balls, you wanted someone to get up and move to your living room to plop down next to—or someone to drag to the library to lean on, then shove the book in their face, gentle annoying affection of you sharing what you’re reading. maybe reading it out loud to them, asking them their thoughts, or what their first impression of it was without ANY context whatsoever..but. reality wasn’t that, so a book would do for now.

deft fingers pulled the pen out of its spot, “his attachment excited gratitude…his general respect; but she could not approve of him; nor could..shee…” you trailed off softly, your eyes back and forth from your notepad to the book. a small smile pulling at your lips as you silently mouthed the words to your music. shoving your pen back into its spot as you stretched your legs out, small pops and that orgasmic stretch began to settle as you leaned back yawning. eyes shut before sitting back up, glancing around at the surroundings of the third floor of the library, usually where the study rooms were, and where all the adults came to relax, study or read.

the kiddies and teenagers dominated the main floor..and thankfully they stayed down there, but the few teens who did venture up here were..quiet usually. minded their business..as they should. taking a minute to stretching your legs out—now that you were recounting the two hours you’ve been here in your little isolated spot, you haven’t seen, nor heard anybody in a bit..or at all?? eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you took your glasses off to fix them.

..maybe it was about time to take a break, or more like..check where everyone was, you swore that the library closed at five-thirty PM and not anywhere near three..oh fuck—hopefully they didn’t lock you in. the very thought of it made you get second hand embarrassment. that would be very fuckin’ embarrassing if you didn’t hear the speakers announce it was closing time. finally standing up stretching once more, then collecting your current read, notebook and your small bag, putting the notebook away as you made your way downstairs.

this library didn’t have an elevator but they had stairs..a really weird staircase? you didn’t exactly know how to put it. it was located in a very narrow staircase that led you back down to the second—then you had to go across that floor to go down the other staircase to get to the main floor. padding your way through the third floor, slowly making your way down to those stairs, a smell caught your attention..it smelled like wires?

though the thought of burning wires didn’t make sense, maybe it was just a smell that lingered in the stairwell. so therefore you didn’t pay too much mind. pulling out your phone, unlocking it to scroll through your notifications just in case anybody texted you during your quiet reading time.

“Ah fuck—!” you cursed, yanking your hand back from the door knob. almost dropping your phone in the process, shaking your hand as if that would help ease the throbbing pain of being burned. “fuck fuck..fuckin’ hell..” you mutter, turning around staring down at your hand, making sure there was no lasting impact on your hand. nothing left behind but a light red imprint on your palm.

after a long moment you realized..there was a fire. and the alarms did not go off. you began to piece that together as you applied the smell of burning wires, the hot door knob..and the smell of smoke. using that information, and the fact that the stairwell stopped on the second floor—you were stuck. yeah, you’re stuck. the first thing that came to mind was going up. that’s the only way you could go.

now that you’re up here, looking around for a way out, maybe a fire escape? that could help, checking the few windows to see if there was any. but no, why? because god must hate you surely. as time ticked by the flames from the main floor, and the second floor slowly climbed..the books adding more fuel to the growing flames as you scrambled about for an exit. but the only thing you were met with was the aight of a fire truck and everyone else evacuated. everyone but you. what a joke, what a sick twisted joke, it’s not even your fault. the alarms didn’t go off—maybe someone called up while you had your headphones in? you didn’t know. your stomach was churning at the thought of nobody coming to save you, or finding you.

sure death was natural, it was bound to happen—you coughed, batting away smoke from your face as you got down to the floor. is this what you’re suppose to do? if you’re honest it’s been years since school, only knowing something about smoke..smoke, you need to stay down. but anything above that you were ignorant in, and how you wished you took fire safety way more seriously now..

“what do you mean the alarms didn’t go off?” he asked fiddling with his mask as he began to prep to go in. “i—it didn’t go off, none of the smoke alarms…or the sprinklers went o—“ miguel could feel the on going headache just from that alone, shoving his mask on. interrupting the owner,

“i’ll deal with you when i get out. peter, keep everyone away from the damn building. i’ll be out in fifteen at most.” miguel made quick work of sweeping the second floor as his others took them off his hands, now all that was left was the third floor. it was hassle to get through the flames, and to feel around since the thermal cameras weren’t able to pick up everything. but they did help, it much better then just blindly shoving his weight through the smoke and fire.

“anyone in here?” miguel called out, “hello?”

no response. great. really fucking great. “hello?” he called out again, this time there was a cough. okay, so there was someone in here—maybe losing consciousness. knowing this information put fire under his ass (literally).

the aftermath of the fire was horrible. the library was beyond saving as the crew worked to put out the flames, the amount of paper and just wood in the building didn’t help. but, everyone was located and was rescued; thankfully. today was a lucky case, not everyone is always located. “make sure she’s taken care of. i gotta go tend to the others,” handing you over to the ambulance before departing..

by the time you finally gained consciousness the burn on your arm was treated and wrapped, water and shoved into your hands practically. it was nothing major thankfully. unfortunately you didn’t have a chance to thank the guy who helped you. watching from your spot as he was barking out orders, from what you could see he seemed to be—yelling at a guy? it certainly wasn’t a crew member. maybe someone who was in charge of the library. you didn’t know..

“excuse me,” you called attention to the paramedic, “yeah, something you need?” moving over to you, assuming you may need some extra water or maybe you were still in pain, something they may have missed.

“that’s the guy that got me out, right?” you asked, “the guy that’s like huge, dark hair—the one yelling.” they hummed, laughing a bit at the sight of him yelling at another person to hurry up. “oh yeah, that’s miguel. miguel o’hara is his name.”