ANGEL ☾ winwin one shots.

safe place. [markwin]

it's so fucken hot today. send help.

cw // little violence & blood.

~

it's twilight. most of the houses in the neighbourhood are quiet – windows black and blinds drawn.

most houses.

a loud thud is heard, cutting the night's silence like a knife, followed by dogs barking and men screaming. mark pushes himself up from the ground and picks up his pace. he has to leave the neighbourhood and he has to do it fast.

he runs like he always does. his legs move faster than his eyes can comprehend, but strangely he doesn't feel tired. maybe because he's used to it.

his steps come to a halt as a tall gate stands in front of him. mark wastes no time and climbs it – when suddenly a dog jumps and bites him on the calf.

" shit !" he whisper-yells.

he tries to shake the dog off, ignoring the pain spreading through his body. the paths are lit alive with flashlights which mean the cops are near. usually he's against animal abuse but there's no way he can compromise with this one.

at last he kicks the dog off, hard, and mutters an apology.

he gets down on his feet but he knows he's not safe yet. far from it. and he's proven right when he hears the cops screaming his name, demanding him to stop.

he doesn't.

today is a tuesday – which means there's a night market at the main street. mark takes a deep breath and runs again towards the direction of the market, the cops in his wake.

luck is on his side. the market is crowded and alive with people. sellers promoting their goods, buyers bargaining for the cheapest price. thanks to his lithe frame, mark passes through them like the passing wind.

the people ignore him. they're too busy with their own lives. in this rural town, you master the art of minding your own business.

the cops yell, stop the boy. they don't. a teen boy being chased by the cops happen too often around here that they don't care anymore.

mark cuts through the crowd like a paper boat floating in a drain. he looks over his shoulder and spots the cops at least five feet away. the crowd thins out as he passes some more stalls. when he gets to the corner of the 7-eleven, someone grabs his wrist.

" here ." a familiar deep voice whispers in his ear.

the hair on mark's nape stands up. before he can react, the figure pulls him into one of the shops.

it's sicheng. mark has forgotten he works at this 7-eleven and thanks god it's his shift.

the store is empty. sicheng leads him straight to the storage room – ignoring the employees only sign. mark tries to catch up with his speed. his right foot hurts every time he steps, like it's being crushed by a heavy metal ball.

sicheng closes the door. it's dark inside but he doesn't bother to turn on the lights. mark tries to calm his breathing but it's hard, impossible even.

it's difficult to breathe when he's this close to sicheng.

there's nothing but genuine concern on sicheng's face when he spins towards mark. mark tries to speak, but his words get stuck on the back of his throat.

" they'll break into the shop ." mark starts at last. he says it so quietly sicheng almost misses it. it takes sicheng a while to process his words.