Setting Fire to the Stars (a MM Sci-Fi Romance)

Chapter 3: Dream

**(TW: non-con touching and sexual assault. Reader discretion advised)**

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Lauren
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My shoes were soggy and I was not okay.

After covering a preliminary check for broken bones, positive I had bruised at least one rib and possibly twisted my ankle, I glanced up into darkness. Something big had fallen over us, covered up our escape route. If we were lucky, that manhole cover might have slipped back into place after to that big explosion, effectively sealing and blocking off our pursuer.

If not, it could mean that we were buried under a building. Either way, we were trapped.

Coughing the smoke from my patched throat, I looked around, seeing absolutely nothing. It was pitch black. Pushing myself to my feet, it took me a minute to feel along the craggy walls. Water lapped around my lower shins, ice cold. The dark tunnel was rounded and just large enough that I didn't need to crouch down. The air was stuffy with the scents of rotting leaves and stagnant water.

More rumbling kicked up from above us and I froze, riding out the explosion as a statue until it subsided.

" . . . What was . . . that thing?" I panted in a hoarse voice, exhausted from running.

"I don't know." Peter's reply came from somewhere beyond my grasp near my left side.

"What did it want?" I tried again, rolling my sore ankle.

"It was fucking shooting at us, Lauren," he snapped. Splashes of water echoed against the walls as he shifted his stance. "Did you think that it just wanted to say 'hello'? Maybe invite us over for tea?"

Rolling my eyes, I pulling in a deep breath of the musty smell of damp mildew. My nose wrinkled at the stuffy scent.

"I hate sewers," Peter grumbled, staring forlornly at his once white Adidas sneakers.

"This is a storm drain, not a sewer." I corrected.

"There's a difference?"

"It would smell way worse if it was the sewers."

"Fucking fantastic."

I shrugged. "Could be worse."

"Hm," he grunted, feet sloshing and stirring up the stagnant water as he moved along the wall.

Meeting where I thought his patronizing stare would be, I brushed off my sweater. "So why'd you do it?"

"Do what?" his voice was closer now, like he was leaning somewhere up against the wall nearby.

"Why'd you save me?"

He was silent for a moment, before his scoff hit my ears. "First off, let's get one thing straight. I'm in charge from here on out. Secondly, it doesn't matter why I did it. All that matters is that I did. You owe me."

Cringing, my lips pulled back in a snarl. No. Hell no. I did not want to be indebted to this bastard. Not after what he did.

Letting out a sharp, bitter laugh, I glared at where his voice was coming from. "In case you hadn't noticed, we have more important things to deal with your fucking inflated ego."

Splashing water filled the space between us and before I knew it, he was right in front of me. His breath hit my cheek and I could feel his body heat radiating off him. In this cold, humid storm drain, he was like a furnace. This close, he smelled like ash and sweat, yet somehow I could still smell that obnoxious leather cologne.