Melting The Ice (Iceland x Depressed!Reader) 5
“I’m about to ask you a series of questions. You may answer them in any way or form that you choose. Just state that you don’t know if you really don’t know the answer to a question.” Emil explained what was about to happen after turning the recorder on.
“Okay…” You replied. You knew you were going to dread all of these questions.
“What is your name?” He asked.
“I don’t know.” You replied. He paused the recorder.
“Well, I’ve got to call you something, stúlka (girl). Since it seems that your body remembers some things, why don’t I try to guess it?” He proposed. You slowly nodded.
“…(not your name).” He guessed.
“No.” You replied, the name sounding foreign and unfamiliar.
“(not your name)?”
“No.”
“(not your name)…?”
“Nope.”
“How about… (y/n)?” He asked, and your body reacted to the name. It was so familiar. Your (e/c) eyes snapped up to meet his blue ones. He grinned.
“That’s it, isn’t it? (y/n)… It’s pretty.” He said, glancing in your direction.
“T-Thanks…” You said, feeling something rising up from your stomach. It was unfamiliar, but not uncomfortable.
“So, (y/n), let’s continue this absurd pile of questions, shall we?” He asked. He said your name slowly, savoring the sound his voice made when he said your name.
“Yeah…” You replied. He turned the recorder back on and cut out the last question and your answer.
“So, what’s your name?” He quizzed.
“(y/n).” You replied.
“Last name?”
“I don’t know.”
“When is your birthday?”
“I don’t know.”
“How old are you?”
“I don’t know.”
The conversation continued like this for God knew how long. After a while, though, you didn’t even feel like the questions were staged. You felt like Emil was genuinely asking each one, holding your gaze most of the time, being serious whenever it was necessary. You felt terrible. You didn’t know the answers to most of the questions. They ranged from basic information, to physical description, to hobbies, to qualities, and then to personal questions. Those were the ones you hated the most. They were asking about personal feelings, the ones you had acquired since you had lost your memory.
“How did you feel when you first woke up in the hospital?” He asked, his eyes locking with yours.
“…Do I have to answer that question?” You asked nervously. You gulped and looked down. Suddenly your hands had become the most interesting thing in the world.
“Yes.” He replied.
“…Well… I uh…. I felt… Confused. I didn’t know where I was, who I was, or what had happened. I tried to force myself to remember and it only ended up hurting me. I felt trapped… I felt like I didn’t know anything more than what everyone allowed me to know. That scared me." You said and looked away from his gaze.
"…How do you feel about your situation?" He asked, after a slight sympathetic pause.
"...Terrified. I keep on thinking... That I won't remember anything. That all of my memories will just fade away to the dark, uninhabited corners of my mind. I'm afraid that they'll fade away forever, and that everything and everyone that was ever important to me will never know what happened. I… There's so much fear." You explained, tearing up. You hated this, opening up to the stranger that you had just met at the hospital, but he seemed so comforting and caring.
“This is the last question...” He said after watching you for a moment. You nodded.
“...Are you depressed?” He asked softly. You began to let small tears fall over your (e/c) lashes.
“...Y-Yes...” You replied shakily, grabbing one of the nearby couch pillows for comfort.
“It says ‘If so, please explain what you are feeling and why.’” He quoted. You squeezed the pillow.
“I don’t even know what I’m feeling... I guess you could say that I feel... Numb. I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to sleep. I want to die. I just want to watch my world suffocate. I think.... I think It’s because I don’t remember anything. I don’t know if I have parents... I don’t know if I have anyone who loves me... Now I’m all alone. Now I’ve got to start all over again, and I don’t want to... I hate myself for it...”You explained, feeling like your mind was being violated... Interrogated... Tortured. You began to sob as Emil turned the recorder off.
“There! Are you happy?! You have your stupid answers now! Go away!” You hiccuped and curled up into a ball on the couch.
“(Y/n)...” Emil said soothingly. You didn’t answer.
“..I’m going to go make you some hot chocolate.” He stated after a moment of silence. You sniffed, still crying.
“B-But... E-Emil, I didn’t a-ask...” You stuttered out.
“I know. That’s why I’m doing it.” He stated bluntly, getting up.
“Wha....?” You said, confused. How did he know? You somehow knew that sweets were a source of comfort you. Plus you were cold. Hot chocolate was both sweet and warm, so you had been thinking that it would be the best of both worlds. You had a flashback of times when you were little and someone, you couldn’t see who, would give you hot chocolate to cheer or warm you up.
“I know that you need it. I can tell without you informing me. You just look like you need some.” He stated, walking into the kitchen. You hugged the pillow and buried your face in it. You closed your eyes and nearly dozed off before you felt something soft being gently placed around your shoulders. You flinched and looked up at Emil. You didn't even hear him. He was so quiet. He firmly pried the pillow from your death grip and replaced it with a warm mug. You didn't say anything, but the way you looked at Emil showed nothing but gratitude. You sipped the warm beverage as the young man sat next to you on the couch. He was staring at your hands, which were tightly gripping the hot mug.
“...Can I tell you something without you getting mad at me and ignoring what I say completely?” He asked after a moment.
“No promises...” You mumbled half-heartedly.
“I am serious, (y/n).” He said, turning his gaze to look sternly into your (e/c) eyes. You felt your cheeks heat up and you immediately looked away.
“Okay, go ahead...” You said softly, letting him know that it was okay.
“...Well... It's just... I know that answering all of those stupid questions had to be hard for you, but try to look at it this way; you're one step closer to remembering. The therapy will most likely help you recover. You will get through this. And... you know... It's okay to be depressed. I can understand why you might feel that way. The only part of it I refuse to accept is you taking your own life. I didn't save you in vain. I know that we barely know each other, promise me. Promise me that you will not kill yourself.” He concluded. You glanced at him and realized that we was determined to get the answer he wanted. You crossed your fingers, which were still wrapped around the mug, and when you had made sure he didn't notice you, you replied to his request.
“I promise.”
YOU ARE READING
Melting The Ice (Iceland x Depressed! Reader)
Fanfiction(Completed; Ten Chapters) Your decision was final. You were going to go to Iceland. Your friend, Arthur had thrown a fit when he found out that you were taking the long trip from England to Iceland. This was his final effort to get you not to go. He...
