Finding myself in uncomfortable situations is part of my life. It's expected; simply for the sheer awkwardness underlying in my personality, if not bad luck. Although, no matter how many odd situations I found myself in daily, I never expected to be in this one: heart pounding, surrounded by huge, hairy arms crushing my small body into submission, my eyes watching a group of creepy men in a semi-circle of a nightmare. Out of all of this, the most unusual part was the new voice breaking into the clatter, the face I couldn't see. The interruption of a crime on a helpless female—that only happened in novels and movies. I was not in a movie, I knew that much. I most certainly was not expecting to be "saved." Or at least an attempt at saving me.

My mind whirled back to the task at hand: Get out of sticky situation, get to another bar…

The new voice threw itself back into the cacophony of my thoughts.

"I'm not in your imagination." It repeated. I liked the sound of it. It was gruff and gravely, but in a pleasant way. Not like these other men.

"Why would I want to live in your imagination? That seems like a horrible place to live. Especially right now. I don't even want to think about what you're imagining." The last word had a disgusted tint to it, and I heartily agreed subconsciously.

I twisted and turned to see who was standing up for me, or maybe just the rights of civilians crossing by these parts, not wanting to see this going down. I wasn't sure which, but I was still curious. However, everything was swaying around me as it had before, and I couldn't get much twisting accomplished.

I turned my attention back to Robert, and saw his face harden.

"I wasn't expecting any interruptions," He said in a monotone. "Boys?"

There was some shuffling of feet as the rest of the group put on their tough faces and stalked past me towards the source of my salvation, Robert followed. My heart sped up.

From behind me, and the wall of flesh that acted as a prison, I heard some sounds of struggle; a grunt, tumbles, curses, cracks. And then, I heard an unmistakable—terror-filled scream.

Just like that, I flopped to the ground, no longer held; my constraints running down the street, followed by his long shadow. As I watched him, I tasted blood in my mouth. "Shit" I managed while spitting onto the concrete.

It was then that I noted the silence that now surrounded me. Slowly, I slid up onto my knees, resting on my ankles. I turned toward the previous fight and quizzically observed the heap of men in front of me. I looked for a standing man. Maybe Robert; come to retrieve me. But there was no man from the gang standing. Or breathing, I thought to myself. Blood was slowly making its way down the sidewalk, towards the street drain. Horrified, I realized that my hand was resting in it. Removing it, I heard a shuffle to my right. My head snapped upwards, searching.

Then, that pleasant voice sounded from the air, "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

A long, slender body stepped forward from the shadow of a nearby alleyway. In the dim light of the streetlamps, I could just make out his face. Dark hair, angular jaw, soft mouth. Attractive.

I looked from him to the heap of bodies, and back again. Repeating that about five times, I finally rested my eyes back on him. He was now leaning against the brick wall, with a half-smile on his lovely features. I cursed him for being good looking. It was part of my life to avoid attractive men. They led to complications.

"Did you…" I began, questioning my own sanity, "You didn't—"

I touched my hand to my forehead, which was aching from my fall. I felt the wet blood against my skin.

He chuckled to himself and shrugged off of the wall and stepped towards me. Stooping down, he wiped the blood from my face, and turned my face upwards to look me in the eye. I looked up into the most shocking eyes I had ever seen in my life; it felt as if he was looking into my very soul and my every want and dream and intention was right there in front of him for the taking. I felt exposed, and unsure of myself. Like this stranger knew something about me that I didn't, and that made my flesh crawl.

Sitting like this for a moment, he then straightened up and began walking down the alleyway he had emerged from.

He spoke without turning, "My name is Peirce, and you need to stay out of the dark."

a/n:

Hello, everyone. I decided it was about time for an update. Metro is going pretty well, but I've been really busy and this is what I got done. Sorry about the length of my chapters, I know they're pretty short...I'm working on that, I promise. Haha, but Thank you for the reviews.

Now, this chapter...I'm not very pleased with, but its going somewhere from here. I hope you enjoy!