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◇Broken Angel◇

Miss_Izanagi
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Synopsis
Miabella Francisco, a doctor and a writer with a mysterious past saves a bloodied man, who had claimed to have no memories of his past. It was just help she had given, not out of kindness but for her own course. However, a memoryless man, who she had agreed to save and cohabitate with just so he could be a muse for her new novel was slowly creeping his way into her heart. Nonetheless, he had a past and a life of his own, one even darker than hers, one that could endanger her and everybody she loves...

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Chapter 1 - A Bloodied Man

"Doctor Miabella Francisco."

"Shut up, you don't have to call out my full name like that."

"Should I add in your middle name too? Doctor Miabella Lorain Fra-! Hmph!"

Mia quickly covered her colleague's mouth with her hands, "Please."

"Tsk, see? I know he's good-looking, just go say hello to him." Blessing shoke her head.

"Why, he's not my type of person." Mia shrugged with pursed lips.

"What the fu-!" Blessing yelled out a curse but was quickly intercepted by another passing doctor, "Mind your language, Doctor Blessing!"

"Oh please." Blessing snorted and crossed her arms with a sigh, "You're twenty six, Mia, please go out for once. Just try to see the world from a different perspective for once." Genuinely concerned for her friend, she held her hand and burst into laughter, "I'm going to say hello to Nurse Quinn for you."

"No!" Mia yelled but her friend was long gone. She let out a long sigh and left the hospital. Her shift was over for the day and Blessing's shift just started.

She sighed when she opened the door of her house, the eerie quietness caused her to sigh yet again. The only warmth that usually existed in this house was Blessing's presence, but whenever she was absent, it was history.

Mia walked to her room and freshened up. She then pulled out her computer from her bag, slowly cracking her fingers as she got ready to type; it was the new book she was working on, though, Blessing had advised her to rest anytime she was at home, but, she just couldn't resist the temptation of tapping her fingers on those warm computer keys, and making a bright world which contrasted to the empty world she lived in.

However, her new novel couldn't go any further because of a consistent block in her head, she could imagine the scenes, the events, the background, even the life of the main character, however, she never got the male lead right, no matter how hard she tried, nothing could fit in as perfectly as she wanted. She stared blankly at the empty title space for a long while.

Though she had the idea, she couldn't find a suitable name for it too.

"Ha!" She leaned on the backrest of her chair. A main character, who was as broken as her, however, the person meant to heal this woman couldn't take form in her head, it was like he wasn't meant to exist at all, either in her imagination or in real life.

-Clash

Amidst her perturbed thoughts, a loud crash was heard from her bathroom, causing her to jerk up, she quickly grabbed whatever she could find and slowly tiptoed to the door. With utmost vigilance, she kicked the door open, however, the sight in front of her was not what she had expected. The only reason why she wasn't yelling at the top of her voice was because she had seen this kind of scene a lot, while working in the hospital, but seeing it in her bathroom was a different case.

A bloodied man was lying in her bathtub with her medications scattered all over the place. His entire body was covered in blood, even his face was barely visible with all the dry blood and hair clinging to his face.

Her eyes widened and she tried to scream for help but the only sound that came at of her mouth was a distressed, "Ah..."

She knew deep down that no one would help no matter how much she screamed. With mild footsteps, she made her way towards him, and thankfully she was holding her heel in her hand, a hit on an injured head with a nine inches heel would do quite the damage.

After reaching a safe distance, she stretched out her hand and slightly brushed the black bloody hair from his face, however, the limp man's eyes opened and he caught her hand with a firm grip, his black eyes glaring daggers at her.

"Who are you?" His hoarse voice thundered in her ears, making her loose her senses for a millisecond.

Wait! What? She was supposed to be asking the questions here. She pulled her hand away from his strong grip and pointed her nine inches heel at him, "The hell are you?" She squinted her eyes, adopting Blessing's usual character.

He frowned, his lips parting slightly. He glanced around as if contemplating, then with a grunt, he held his head and sighed, "I don't know."

"What?!" Mia yelled.

"My eardrums, they're the only things that are not bleeding but I think they'd bleed soon." He said with a sigh, his words dripping with utmost sarcasm, before he laid inside the bathtub again. His bloodied lashes fluttering closed.

"If you don't know who you are, aren't you supposed to be wary of me?" Mia approached him yet again, and he opened his eyes to look at her.

"Why would I be? I'm the bloody one here so if anything, I should be the dangerous one." The vigilance in his voice was perfectly masked, but those dark sharp eyes warned her to keep a distance.

"Don't call the cops." He suddenly added with a disturbed sigh.

"Yes?" Mia blinked, she never even thought about calling the cops, but he didn't have to know, "Why won't I? There's a bloody stranger in my house."

"I can't remember anything but I know for sure that whosever made me like this is not to be triffled with. For your own good." He spoke as if he knew her, Mia flinched.

He groaned slightly with his eyes down, missing her reaction, "I think I was hit pretty hard in the head." He murmured, massaging his head.

Mia gulped, her mind had long drifted into space. This man was obviously dangerous but he claimed to have no memories whatsoever, and she couldn't call the cops, she didn't want to. She only snapped back into reality when she tasted the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, probably from biting too hard on her lips; an unpleasant habit she had picked up in prison.

"How much do you remember?"

"Waking up in an alleyway and then stumbling into your house."

"How did you even enter my house?"

"The window at the back...it was open." He answered all her questions.

"Do you perhaps have a name?"

"I don't remember it. I don't even know if I have one." He glared calmly at her.

"Fine, I'll treat you." Mia finally made a decision after a moment of contemplation, "In exchange, you'll leave as soon as you recover."

He stared at her, his sharp glare searching for the slightest fluctuation in her expression, "Deal." He smiled.