TOXIC (sketchxreader)

Runaway

Elijah-

"Th- th-e man he's" Y/N mumbles as she is gasping for air, all of the running we did is the cause of her panting.

"He's is in the headlines for being a victim to a murder. He's dead Elijah! The man- from the motel!"

I am shocked after hearing y/n's reply but I let her elaborate before asking questions or reacting, "He owned a very successful finance company s- so people are mourning over an asshole's death because they don't know about his connection to human trafficking!" she spits out everything at once.

I can't believe this. How am I even suppose to feel about this? I decide to walk in and hug y/n. I close my eyes and melt into her arms. The world seems to crumble around us. We are fucked and we know it.

y/n kills my moment by breaking off the hug, "We don't have time for this shit! Some rat snitched on us! They have a vague idea of what the suspects look like. That's us!"

"What the fuck are we gonna do now?"

y/n looks away as if to look for answers from the sky, "Change the way we look."

Fair enough. We head to the mall and make a mutual decision to spend the leftover money on clothes and plane tickets, plane tickets to California. We chose California because we are able to afford it and our city, where the murder took place is in one of the states surrounding New York.

"How about I shop for you and you do the same for me." y/n lays out this idea.

"Sounds weirdly fun. Yeah!"

She found a way to make all of this a little bit fun and bearable. I respect that.

We part ways and go follow through y/n's plan.

First step is to recall what y/n has been wearing since day 1. I remember her standing in the mall waiting for me, in some jeans and a black jacket. Pretty simple. I'll have to pick out something that's "out there" in order to contradict the way she usually dresses. I can't go too far either.

I pick out a green maxi skirt, dark gray crop top and a blue zip up jacket for her. We meet up and I discover that she has picked a plaid shirt and a pair of black jeans for me.

"I don't like plaid."

"and I don't like the cops so I think we should focus on avoiding them." y/n replies.

I roll my eyes and we both get changed. Then y/n straightens out her hair and dyes it black, also adding some extensions to make her hair appear longer than before. I help her through all of that.

Now it's my turn and we decide on cutting my hair short. Basically turning my long curtain bangs into a fringe, a brown fringe.

I cherished my long hair, I'll definately miss it. It took me crap ton of patience to grown it out.

"Let's get the fuck out of here." I hold out my hand.

y/n nods and gets a hold of them.

We reach the airport and board the plane. It feels calm in an empty manner in here. I feel a deep hole sinking into my heart, adding pressure on it. Everything seems to going wrong. I can't handle this anymore. I am scared for what's coming. What if all of this never stops? What if I am stuck in an endless loop of despair?

"I'm scared y/n." I rest my head on her shoulder.

She doesn't speak a single and makes her way into the restroom. Here I am, again alone with my thoughts keeping me company. Of course, the first thing that comes into my mind is my family. I hope Ethan is handing everything well out there.

I trust Ethan. I bet all is going to be fine there but what about y/n? Why does she have to run away from real talk? Why is it that she has the urge to hid away from she is subjected to emotions.