Strange (Rosé x fem reader)

Chapter 8: Thongs and Gowns

I knew exactly what this man was capable of, how he treated Jun in front of everyone and I couldn't imagine how he treated Jun behind closed doors.

Strong cheap whiskey suffused my nose and that made everything more terrifying. He was intoxicated and he was angry and yelling as his face turned red.

His mouth opened widely every time he said something and sometimes spit would come out along with strings of words I couldn't hear. Fuck. Why did I take my processors off?

I tried to sign to him but it was futile, his animosity grew and he was trying to close the gap between us as he angrily pointed out where Jun last was. I was confused and afraid, this was a man I would never want to encounter if I had a choice but I was here dealing with him now.

I tried backing up but his long muscular arms were a lot faster than me grabbing onto my apron and slightly pinching the skin from my chest that was exposed.

He placed his large thick fingers around my throat and slammed me against the white tiles that made up my wall.

I never knew just how strong a man could be, obviously, he would be because his build was large, and the curves that were exposed made up his muscles. The muscles that helped bring me up with my back sliding against the cold tile. I was just never treated like this to know how much strength a human being was capable of.

I closed my eyes shut and tried to tear his arm off with both of my hands but it was useless. And I knew when I felt weaker and my breath continued to come through short. He was going to kill me. He's going to kill me.

But thankfully that was just a thought, thankfully.

I regretted being thankful and wished he had as soon as he threw me down.

Gasping for air and trying to clear my vision up the next thing that came was even worse. Kicks, after kicks, came towards me and I was nothing but useless. Laying on the floor allowing him to toss me around like a ball of tissue.

He should've just killed me.

Pain, lots of it and it was running across my abdomen and pelvic area. I was looking at black and red as pain shot through my body like needles. Areas of soreness kept me stuck in place like I was being held down with handcuffs and restraints.

I blinked slowly since the curtain of this white bright room was open and the last thing I needed to top my pain off was a headache. I never understood why hospitals, were so white and bright. The last thing patients needed, was to be blinded and cursed with a headache to top off all the other pain.

There was a nurse in her typical blue scrubs writing something down as she checked the bag of fluid hanging and delivering whatever it is that it contained to my body through a needle pierced into my hand. I tried to extend my arm to catch her attention but the pain of raising my arm hurt my ribs and felt like I was holding a 25-pound dumbbell. It was so difficult that I lost my breath as I tried over and over. Wincing and shutting my eyes tightly I retracted my arm and let it fall to my side where it was when I woke up.

How did I even get here? Last thing I remember was feeling the cold floor touching my cheek as I sobbed, my immobile body losing consciousness.

Unexpectedly, my surgeon who placed my implants was standing outside by the reception desk, talking to a nurse with a point of a finger towards me that let me know that the conversation was indeed about me. Surely enough, said doctor noticed that I was awake and made his way to me.

He began to sign, "Ms. Y/l/n, I'm glad you're awake! It shocked me to see you were here for another surgery so soon. I'm sorry about what happened." His kind eyes became doughy, filled with genuine worry and care. Not even my own grandad made me feel this type of comfort.