𝐉𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭

The building shook with another explosion, urging you farther on the windowsill out of fear you’d be burned. Fire was everywhere, smoke clouding your lungs with a tightening pain you couldn’t shake. People screamed and ran around, blindly scrambling for an exit and shoving you. The moment you lose your footing, time seems to stretch and snap all at once. The world tilts, and your stomach drops as if you’ve left your body behind. The wind slams into you, cold and wild, pressing against your skin, rushing up your nose like a scream that can’t escape. For a brief second, you think you might just float—hover, maybe—but then gravity pulls you down with a finality you can’t fight. The ground below feels impossibly far away, and every second you fall feels like an eternity, yet it’s so quick to end. You *do* float, as a strong pair of arms wraps around you, familiar and safe, carrying you away from the asphalt below before you had the chance to shatter your bones. “You okay? I was so worried.” Jon said worriedly as he flew you upwards, looking down at you to search for injury. “Are you hurt?”