Deceiving Love

We Are Not Safe

I must be shaking from the loud blast, my eardrums feel like they've gone deaf after the shot, I can't hear their screams. I can only witness the madness that unfolds as the crowds try to disperse in fear, running in all directions. Snow is in full protective mode, standing on all fours with a tense posture, growling at anyone who tries to come near me.

I can make a distinct figure that did not run away, like everyone else, standing 5 meters away from me holding on to his left shoulder with bloody hands. This is when it dawns on me-- he was the one who got shot. He attempts to scream but I can barely make out the word he says, he tries again, his voice is tinged with worry, and I faintly hear the word run. 

I survey the area, looking in all directions, but the shooter is nowhere to be seen. I am also in fear and wonder if I should run away like everyone else is doing, but instead I stand there in a mix of emotions; confused and scared. The feeling I'm unable to shake of is that of worried, there is a burning spark in me that is preventing me from running away like everyone else and instead is focusing on him. He looks worried as he runs in my direction while holding on to his left shoulder. Before the thought of whether I should or not help him comes to mid, I am already by his side. Snow, instead of barking or growling, remains calm and composed, sitting quietly. It's as if Snow recognizes him and senses the gravity of the situation.

Seeing him in such distress triggers something in me, and I realize he needs help—I am probably the only one who he knows here and who can help him. 

Despite his condition, he's the first to speak:

"Run" he says softly "I said run away, it is dangerous" he urges in a more worried tone.

"You are bleeding" I state the obvious. 

He is now much closer than before and I can make out the clothes he is wearing, a contrasting white sweater that makes the blood even more obvious with a black button up t-shirt underneath, that must have torn due to the shot, formal black pants and dressy shoes as if he just came out of a business meeting. He is definitely not dressed to the occasion he found himself in. I feel a cold hand grab on to mine, it is just then that I wake up from my faze, his left hand is touching mine. They are so cold I could have mistaken them for the snow. 

"We must get out of here before he comes back again, it is not safe" Jake says in a worried tone as he pulls me towards him. 

"What is going on? Who is he?" once the shock is settling in and I am trying to make sense of the situation he takes me with him away from the Trevi fountain, my hand in his as we run towards my hotel. Snow follows suit.

Fortunately, my hotel is only about a five-minute walk from the Trevi Fountain, but since we're jogging, we reach it even faster. Thankfully, the receptionist isn't there to ask any questions I wouldn't even know how to answer, so we rush straight to my room.

Once we come inside the room we notice the state it is in. There are clothes laying around the bed, some are on the floor, while my shoes are on different parts of the floor some are turned upside down, the wardrobe and some drawers were left open with some of underwear hanging around. I would have been embarrassed if it were not for the situation we were both in, but the matter was more serious than just some of my pink underwear laying around. I notice the window is also left open and that the heat of my room is non-existent. The cold rush of air flowing into my bedroom and the curtains moving along the wind. It looks as if someone had broke into my room and ransacked it.  Snow begins sniffing around and barking to the window, with nothing there other than wind gushing inside.