Spotlight |h.s|

Fifty One

Harry Styles

As I look at the officers standing behind her with their guns drawn, looking at us like we're a couple of loons, I can only think of two things. One, they better not shoot either of us. Two, what do I do if she sees the guns?

She can't have a panic attack right now. I wouldn't be able to get us out of this mess while also calming her down. I'm still new to the calming down thing, and I can't multitask while doing it. I would have to give her my full attention to actually succeed in soothing her.

She tries to turn her head to see the source of the voice, but I grab her face with one of my hands to stop her. She understands what's behind her from the look I'm giving her, her body recoiling at the thought of weapons being pointed at us.

I take the hat off of her head and put it on mine, then quickly put her sunglasses back on her face to conceal her identity once again. My colorblind glasses have slightly tinted lenses, and that's enough for them to be unable to identify me.

"Run." I whisper to her, bringing the hand that was on her cheek down to hold one of hers, turning us both swiftly and running without saying a word to the police.

"Hey! Get back here!" I hear them follow us, their boots squeaking on the floor and probably fucking up the stickers of the exhibit.

We burst through the employees only door a good distance ahead of them, and I quickly barricade it with a few of the metal shelves in here in an attempt to buy us time. She frantically watches me do it, not knowing what to do here.

"Have you ever ran from the police before?" I ask as I shove a third shelf in front of the door.

"No." She shakes her head.

"Follow my lead, then." I grab her hand again and bolt to the exit, her squealing at the movement.

We rush through the exit door and in the direction of the garage, their car being on the street in front of the building with its lights on. How did they even know we were here?

"Have you ever ran from them before?!" She yells over the wind of our running coupled with her adrenaline.

"I'm an addict! Of course I have!" I say like it's a stupid question, laughing in this serious situation.

She has a look on her face that screams, What the fuck am I doing right now? The look makes me laugh more, both of us speeding down the sidewalk in our weird black clothing.

Once we make it past their car, I hear them yelling after us, "What the hell are you two doing?!"

The barricade didn't work as well as I wanted it to, I guess. I expected them to take longer to get out here.

"How are we gonna get them away from us?!" She looks at me.

"Don't worry, I've got it." I assure her, speeding up and pulling her with me as her hair and cardigan fly behind her.

Our running echoes throughout the street along with our heavy breathing, I feel her anxious energy radiating into me through our connected hands, her chest rising and falling rapidly from the physical activity. She doesn't seem too anxious anymore, but the nerves are most definitely still there.

"They're gonna kill us!" She references to the guns she knows they had pointed at us.

"That's a scare tactic. We aren't harming them. They probably think we stole something. They'll get over themselves if we wear them out." I assure her.

She hastily nods, trusting that I know what to do in this situation. I hear their boots scratching across the concrete and cuffs jingling as they hang from their belt buckles. They're not too close, but definitely closer than I intended for them to be.