#2AM : prowler miles (42) x reader

prologue

knock.

knock knock.

"why is someone at my door..." you murmured, partly to make sure this wasn't a dream. you glanced at the clock beside your bed. "at 2am..."

you forced your legs to swing off the side of your bed, slowly standing to avoid passing out—even though you stumbled around despite the precaution. you trudged to your apartment entrance, peeping out the hole. you don't know why you did that, it wasn't like you could make out the person on the other side with the warped glass anyway.

in your drowsiness, you forgot why you were at the door in the first place...

BAM BAM!

"ah-!" you yelped, startled by the force the door shook and leaned away from it. you surged forward to really look through the eyehole to see a dark figure with a pointed collar, purple lights flaring. anger set into your features.

"nope, not today." you palmed around the darkness for your phone. "police... i gotta call the police."

crime was always something you were exposed to in your daily life. it was if life couldn't go on until one convenience store was robbed or there was a fistfight on the streets. but being relatively disconnected from all the people who like to cause trouble, you always thought that if you kept your head down the crime wouldn't directly touch you.

but here it was, literally knocking at your door. 

sweat laced your palms—the sleepiness was out of your system, replaced with fear. "shit shit shit..."

your motions stopped when you heard clicking, turning slightly to witness the trespasser kicking your door down. you openly screamed, clutching your phone tight. the door was slammed, you heard the screeching of shoes, and the cold impact of something metal against your mouth.

your hands gripped the wrist connected to the hand that held you in place. your breathing was fast and shallow, and you refused to open your eyes.

"be quiet." the voice was distorted, breathy and low. "open your eyes." your better judgement told you to obey, so your eyes fluttered open to drink in the sight before you. 

purple outlines on a digital mask dominated your focus, the intense brightness making you turn your head away—or attempt to, at least. with great effort, you narrowed your gaze and thrashed against him, clawing for your phone once more.

"i'm not here to—" he paused, sighing before letting you go. you scrambled away from him,  dashing to the bathroom. you locked the door and slid to the floor, your hearing tuned to the minute noises beyond your temporary safe zone. 

a hiss. the thumping of footsteps... and the dragging of something? it sounded like he was limping. your eyes found the emergency numbers on your phone and you dialed them. you yelled out when you heard—and felt—a crash outside the bathroom door.

"i'm not here to hurt you."

the only thing that was audible for a moment was the ringing of the phone.

"don't call anyone... please." 

you stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to piece together the full image with the fragments you had. the modulation was gone, and you... you thought you recognized that voice. though it was deeper and hoarser than the version you remembered...

"y/n." 

but... but the getup and entrance was so far from who you remembered that you faltered on believing your first instinct.