barricade boys imagines/one shots + preferences: volume one

jehan; don't be a stranger, be a neighbour

"Joly, I'll be fine! Au revoir." Jehan sighs and closes the front door to his apartment. He pulls up his sleeve to reveal his bleeding forearm. When running from the police at today's rally, he managed to trip over a rock and fall onto shattered glass that lay atop the cobblestone. He walked into his bathroom and began to look for medical supplies that could ease the pain that was beginning to grow. He searched each cabinet but found nothing. There were two people he could go to for help; Joly, who lived all the way across town and Y/n, his neighbor that he has been in love with ever since she moved in next door seven years ago. He would rather lose an arm than have a real conversation with her because he was extremely bashful and nervous whenever he is around her. 'I'll just go to Joly's and risk it' he thought. He walked out of his apartment and turned to lock his door when he heard her voice. The beautiful, soft and calming voice that made his heart race and cheeks blush.

"Hello Jehan." He turned his head to her to see that she was taking out her trash and closing her door behind her.

"Oh h-hi." He stares at her until he drops his apartment key onto his foot.

"Oh" he reaches down to grab it with his wounded arm, not realizing it, he stretches the wound more and lets out a cry.

"Ow!"

Y/n's eyes trail from his face to his bleeding arm. They widen and she drops her trash.

"Oh my- Jehan, what has happened to you?!" She interlocks her fingers with his, on the arm that isn't bleeding out, grabs his key and pulls him into her apartment bathroom, completely abandoning the trash on the hall floor.

"Sit there please." She points to the bathroom counter and he obeys her immediately. His feet slightly dangle from the counter as he watches her search through her bathroom cabinets for supplies to heal his arm.

"There we go." She places shea butter, gauze and two rags onto the counter. She washes her hands and lets the tap run on warm water. She soaks one rag and places it in a nearby bucket after closing her cabinet doors.

"Okay, just let the wound clean out under the water." He eyes the water and his wound and thinks about the pain that might come with it. She gently grabs his wrist and makes his palm face the ceiling to make sure that the warm water will reach the wound.

"It won't hurt, Jehan." He nods, trusting her. She places his forearm under the running water and blood begins to fill her sink. He looks away at such events until she places her hand on his hand that was on top of his knee.

"It's going to be alright." His cheeks flush a deep scarlet at her low effort of intimacy.

"O-okay."

After about eight minutes, she closes the tap and uses the wet rag to clean up any blood that was around his arms. She released her hand off of his and grabs the dry rag. She places his wounded arm onto his knee, opposite of where his hand was, and begins to dry the area slowly.

"You know, the next time you are hurt this badly just knock on my door. Too much cold air being let into the wound can harm you and neither of us would want that. So please, don't be a stranger, be my neighbor. Hey, that rhymed, sort of." She focuses her eyes back onto the wound that was almost dry. He watches her with such admiration. She then throws the two rags into a crate and grabs the shea butter.

"This will help heal and close the wound faster, okay? It won't hurt." He nods. She applies the butter with such grace and gentleness, treating him with fragility. She then wraps the gauze around his arm, his eyes never leaving her irresistible face. He was so in love and it was so plain to see. The way that he instantly trusted her, and turned red every time she looked into his eyes, it was so obvious, to all but her.

"Done." She hands him a large roll of gauze. "Change that everyday so that the wound remains clean. Just come by if you need any assistance." She smiles at him and walks out of the bathroom, leaving him with his gauze and no longer bleeding arm.

He follows her into the kitchen of her apartment.

"T-thank you for all of your help."

"Anytime." She washes her hands again.

"I'm uh, I'm going to head back to my place to put this away. Thank you again." He says and blushes.

"It was no problem at all Monsieur." They smile at each other for a few moments before he leaves her apartment.

Everyday since then he had been visiting her apartment for "assistance." The two dated for three and a half years before getting married and having two twin girls, Violet and Andrea. To think that it all started with Jehan's bleeding arm.