inktober day 15: intimacy
for my drug au
warning: drug use below the cut, including (not detailed) overdose
The first thing Hajime feels is the cold.
He’s shaking, but he feels so weak that he’s hardly able to do that much.
Even just breathing feels like extraordinary effort; he forces air into his lungs, heaving with every breath that he struggles to take. His eyes open wide quickly, in panic, but it’s all too bright, a light from overhead that seems blinding to him-
“Hey, calm down,” a voice says that Hajime doesn’t recognize. He struggles, trying to sit up but his entire body feels so damn heavy.
What the fuck happened?
His brain feels foggy, and the more he tries to think the more confused he feels.
Where is he?
He’s panicking, but he’s so damn cold that he can’t get a grip on whatever it is he’s lying on to push himself up. Cement? The fucking sidewalk? He tries to force himself up, but a strong pair of hands push him back down.
“Hey,” the voice repeats, and Hajime’s vision starts to clear enough that he can see the fuzzy shape of a man leaning over him, “lie still, and breathe.”
Hajime squints and tears prick at the corners of his eyes from the light coming from the lamp post above them, but he feels the distinctive cold plastic of an oxygen mask being pressed more firmly to his face.
His heart’s pounding.