Connor was staring emptily at the white wall spread out across from him. He was sitted up on a hospital bed, underneath white sheets and covers. He had almost no feeling in his left eyes, and his left arm was bandaged up very thickly.
The young man wore a vacant expression. The clinical environment of the hospital filled his nose with the smell of iron, steel and drugs. It was both intoxicating and nauseating.
Suddenly, Connor frowned.
He hated the smell.
It's been three days since the incident now.
Three days ago he met Duveen and fell victim to a fire. After that, everything else was a blur and went by quickly. It was almost like a dream, it it weren't for the gruesome and ugly burn scars he had marking his skin all over his body.
The memory of the ravenous flames flashed before Connor's eyes. The smell of smoke and soot filled his lungs and nose. The suffocating sensation strangeled his chest.