Anything, Anywhere, Anytime // OC X John Lydon (Johny Rotten)

a failed attempt at a really lame crime.

The only thing that could be heard this cold night in Britain was Dramys pants and deep breaths, and combats boots running along the ground as Dramy sprinted through the narrow alleys of London. Their heart pounded on of their chest.
They could hear the distant shouts of police officers behind them, as they turned a sharp corner, fuck, they though upon seeing the alleyway. Well, no turning back now, since they could hear the police sirens get closer and closer, they stood there frozen for a moment, thinking about the closes and easiest way out - jumping the wall.
The brick wall that separated the alleyway with whatever there was behind it wasn't that high, so without thinking twice, they were on their feet again, as they jumped onto the brick wall, they put all their force into their forearms, which they used to pull themselves up onto the wall.
And with one swift movement, they climbed on the wall, and back down.
They jumped from the wall onto the ground on the other side of the alleyway, just as they could see the blue and red flashing lights pass by on the other side.

But this couldn't be perfect without something going absolutely wrong. A throbbing pain shot through their whole foot, they mumbled a string of curse words under their breath, as they dropped to their knees.
The pain concentrated into their ankle as they cowered on the ground.

They stumbled into the dark alleyway, breathing heavily, trying to catch their breath.
They hid behind a big dumpster and leaned on the dirty wall, trying to keep silent until they couldn't hear any cop cars anymore.
You see, Dramy had just tried to leave a pub without paying for her drinks, getting into quite a scuffle in the process, that ended up with one or two fists flying, and the cops also being phoned.

Sometimes they wondered why they did these things, they would constantly make stupid compulsive decisions just for a short rush of adrenaline, the worst drug of them all, they wondered if itll kill them one day.

"Fuck that hurts! Stupid fucking ankle..."
Their voice echoed in the dark, lonely place.

They winced as they tried to put weight on the injured foot, but quickly realized it was impossible. Leaning against the wall for support, they looked around, trying to come up with a plan.

"Shit. Where do I hide now?"
They slid down the wall, now sitting on the floor, their chest rising in deep breaths

There was way too little time, and way too big of risks to try and hop her way back to the hotel they worked - well, lived at.
Their boss would let them crash in one of the spare rooms for free, just because Dramy promised to clean the hotel rooms and also take care of room services- But of course, keeping promises is hard.
They took that all for granted, who knows how their boss will react after he finds out they had been running from the police AND sleeping at his hotel, theyd be homeless in an instant, well, of course their track record was pretty cluttered, but this would be the cherry on the cake for sure.

They held their head in her hands for a moment, cursing themselves out mentally, but just then, they heard footsteps approaching. Slow, steady footsteps that got slower and slower, until they stopped. A long shadow casted on them and the wall behind them.
They tensed up, ready to defend themselves, since running wouldn't be an option and they were completely cornered, they reached into the pocket of their beat up leather jacket for the small switchblade they have just in case anything like this would happen.

They narrowed their eyes as they looked up, pressing themselves against the wall as a lame attempt to put distance between them and the stranger.
Their eyes took a moment to adjust to the sudden dark shadow casted on them, as they realized what exactly was standing in front of them. Looked like a man possibly in his twenties, didn't look much older than them, which they weren't sure if it made them more nervous or what, with unkempt hair and a gruff expression on his face.
And so they sat there, their eyes widened, and their hand was in their pocket, the switchblade held in it.