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writetomyheart2017-04-17 06:26 pm
harujongin.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2017-04-17 06:26 pm
[TEAM ONE] a scent of comfort
note: basically blank (space) written from sehun's pov since i enjoyed writing that drabble. i rly need to turn it into a longer fic but let's be honest. will that really happen?
it's your turn now,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eoryndal :)
Tremors are wrecking his body, but he feels none of it. He's numb, his senses dull, and Sehun doesn't know if he should be grateful for that or not. Is this how he's going to die, after being robbed off all energy and spirit?
For a moment, he closes his eyes, letting the thought of death setting in. At this point, it's easier to give up. There is no one who cares about him anyways. Growing up on the streets with no family or friends - humans being hostile, and other street cats being rivals in their battle for survival - there's nothing to live for. There's no future for a feline shapeshifter, not in this time at least, and if he's lucky, he might be reborn into a privileged family, as human, not as filthy cat.
"He's here!"
Sehun's ears twitch, his peace disturbed by a baritone too loud for his sensitive ears. Maybe his senses aren't dulled. They're slowly coming back. And when he opens his eyes, the world isn't a blur of pitch black and light specks anymore - he can make out a few shapes again.
"Poor thing," comes another voice, quieter and less intrusive, but Sehun hisses nonetheless. He doesn't need pity.
Mobilizing all his strength - and how odd that he can't feel the adrenaline rush that would usually come in these situations - he only succeeds in lifting his head and baring his canines to the two humans who found him by the fence he was trying to climb. It is this exact same fence that had sent an electro shock wave that is still affecting him in the aftermath.
"Don't move," the second voice pipes up again, calm, soothing, yet they only make Sehun panic. Kindness doesn't exist in this world, not for the likes of him, that is, and Sehun is scared to find out what he will be given once he has accepted this kindness. Probably the world he has tried his best to stay away from - a life as pet, as slave, as toy.
He doesn't trust in the nice words that other person is saying, the help they are offering, and when the one with the lighter voice pulls him up, Sehun makes a distressed sound, ready to claw at these men even though he's not in a position to fight. He would lose this battle immediately, but going down without a fight doesn't seem right.
The strong grip on his wrists hurt him, and in the next moment he is manhandled and lifted onto one of those two people's back. He wants to fight, but something about this man makes him relax. Is it his smell, not drenched in perfume, but a natural scent with dozens of other, less human scents blending in? He senses feline scents in there, too, almost, as if they tried to scent mark him in a way, an expression of rapport, of trust. And Sehun thinks he can trust this person, too, the one that the other human said to be a veterinarian.
As he drifts off to sleep, lulled by that overwhelming feeling of security, Sehun hopes that his senses are not betraying him.
For a moment, he closes his eyes, letting the thought of death setting in. At this point, it's easier to give up. There is no one who cares about him anyways. Growing up on the streets with no family or friends - humans being hostile, and other street cats being rivals in their battle for survival - there's nothing to live for. There's no future for a feline shapeshifter, not in this time at least, and if he's lucky, he might be reborn into a privileged family, as human, not as filthy cat.
"He's here!"
Sehun's ears twitch, his peace disturbed by a baritone too loud for his sensitive ears. Maybe his senses aren't dulled. They're slowly coming back. And when he opens his eyes, the world isn't a blur of pitch black and light specks anymore - he can make out a few shapes again.
"Poor thing," comes another voice, quieter and less intrusive, but Sehun hisses nonetheless. He doesn't need pity.
Mobilizing all his strength - and how odd that he can't feel the adrenaline rush that would usually come in these situations - he only succeeds in lifting his head and baring his canines to the two humans who found him by the fence he was trying to climb. It is this exact same fence that had sent an electro shock wave that is still affecting him in the aftermath.
"Don't move," the second voice pipes up again, calm, soothing, yet they only make Sehun panic. Kindness doesn't exist in this world, not for the likes of him, that is, and Sehun is scared to find out what he will be given once he has accepted this kindness. Probably the world he has tried his best to stay away from - a life as pet, as slave, as toy.
He doesn't trust in the nice words that other person is saying, the help they are offering, and when the one with the lighter voice pulls him up, Sehun makes a distressed sound, ready to claw at these men even though he's not in a position to fight. He would lose this battle immediately, but going down without a fight doesn't seem right.
The strong grip on his wrists hurt him, and in the next moment he is manhandled and lifted onto one of those two people's back. He wants to fight, but something about this man makes him relax. Is it his smell, not drenched in perfume, but a natural scent with dozens of other, less human scents blending in? He senses feline scents in there, too, almost, as if they tried to scent mark him in a way, an expression of rapport, of trust. And Sehun thinks he can trust this person, too, the one that the other human said to be a veterinarian.
As he drifts off to sleep, lulled by that overwhelming feeling of security, Sehun hopes that his senses are not betraying him.
it's your turn now,
eoryndal :)