Run.

"Love shortens time, changes the hours. Love is invincible. Many waters cannot quench it nor the floods drown it. The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved." - Orson Scott.

It's hard looking at one thing and realising you will never see it again. Like watching the destruction of a wall at the hands of a wrecking ball. That wall can never be rebuilt, at least not the same way, thus, the wall is gone for an eternity.

And that's what I was doing. I was watching the destruction of an old building in the streets of New York City, a building forgotten by the world, a building that will never been seen again in its full vintage glory.

And I walked away.

I didn't turn back. I couldn't turn back. What would that make me if I turned around every time there was another change? Surely I would go mad, or was I already going mad? It seemed likely, I wouldn't be surprised.

Fourteen twenty eight is the first change I could think back to, but I averted my eyes from that as well. I didn't linger, Joan of Arc had made her decision, she had fought for her rights as a woman, a controversial act at the time, but she had done it and she had burned and I had watched and I had walked away without a trace of ash littering the cloth of my clothes.

Two thousand and thirteen, the wrecking of Sandy's Saloon is the last change I had witnessed. I had averted my eyes, I had walked away and I had not gotten so much as a speck of dust on my overpriced Levi high waisted jeans.

The city was buzzing, as it always was. There hadn't been a time when I returned that the city wasn't alive with some form of entertainment, with smells of pollution and with sights that could stop a human heart. Mine simply skipped a beat and then carried on its merry way.

The Waldorf Astoria was just up ahead, the hotel attracting the eyes of many with envy. It was exclusive, it was expensive and only the richest could afford to live there. I searched my bag for the key to my room with a distinctive smirk coating my face. My sunglasses hid the glint of pride I hide in my eyes as I approached the front doors of the hotel.

"Miss Williams, you didn't drive today?" Oscar, the door man, enquired.

"The day is lovely, wouldn't you agree?" I lifted my glasses from my eyes, revealing my distinctive amber coloured eyes to him. "I find it very pleasant, I would hate for it to go to waste."

I flicked my hair and started back into the building, ignoring the receptionist whose eyes lingered on me far too long for me to be comfortable with. I escaped into the elavator, ensuring to close the door to make sure no one accompanied me in my ride to my penthouse.

A relaxed feeling overcame me as I entered my luxury suite and collapsed on the mattress that absorbed my body greedily. I closed my eyes with a smile on my face and thought of nothing but my own comfort.

Until I heard the cocking of a gun and a shallow breath that followed. I opened one eyes, distinctively curious as to who they sent this time. The last agent had been very unprofessional, he hadn't hidden, he hadn't even tried to mask his presence.

This one was different, this one actually caught me by surprise.

"It won't do anything, you know? You'll just waste a bullet." I muttered as I closed my eyes again.

"I doubt it will be a waste." A female voice registered through my ears.

This sparked my interest. Normally they sent a man, a very brutal man, but a man nonetheless. I opened one of my eyes again and peaked at where she stood, her dark hair tied back in a tight ponytail, her blue eyes sparkling with determination and a pleased smirk gracing her face. She was beautiful and deadly at the same time.