Save it for the Morning After.

Three

You stood up slowly, only to be drawn back by the scent that rose from the dark figure. He smelled like alcohol, and something you couldn't name.

He was whispering through gritted teeth, presumably threats.

  Finally you made your way to the end of the wall, trying to leave or escape - still never diverting your attention from the boy with messy hair.

 Two more men came. Each one intimidating in their own mangled way, seeming to only target the solitary boy, who's nervous demeanor quickly transcended to an attitude much more confident and coy.

He started  to level with them, joking almost. He pushed at their chests and smiled while he talked. You couldn't make out what he was saying - but hopefully he would get out of this.

       Not that you cared.

      Wait, yes - maybe you did care.

It seemed to be going good, until his expression changed. Body language was different.

His eyes fell to yours.

He looked like he was about to say something, everything in his facial structure and everything you had learned from constantly talking to people and experiences similar to this told you he was in fact - going to say something. And he said it;

"Run."