Try-Hard, Sin Harder

3. The Rain, The Runner, and The Rogue

My breath appeared before me in a fading cloud of vapour. I kept it steady; slow inhale, slow exhale, repeat. 

 My heart thundered in my chest, pounding in sinc with the rain. The air was blissfully brisk against my skin, but its chill was harsh in my aching lungs. My legs burned with each stride, and my throat was raw from running for so long without water. I could feel my muscles begining to seize up, but couldn't bring myself to stop or head back to my apartment. There was too much energy pent up inside of me, and I had to run it out of my system. 

 The rain had gradually increased as the afternoon shifted into evening, and was shooting down like bullets around me. My sweatshirt had long since soaked through, and I cursed myself for not wearing anything but my bra underneath. With the chilling wind whipping against my back, and rain seeping to my bones, my only source of heat came from running. I bounded over puddles and patches of slick mud, careful to keep my footing as I landed. My footsteps were light against the pavement, so much so that it almost felt as if I weren't touching the ground. It was rejuvenating, and I felt as if I were free. 

 Too preoccupied in my thoughts, I didn't notice I wasn't alone until a hooded figure jerked behind a tree before me. Startled, I skidded along the pavement, before stumbling to the ground. A flash of hot pain shot through my left ankle, and I felt it roll underneath myself. There was no crack or pop, only a blinding throb that shot up my calve as I landed on the ground. Wincing, I leaned forward and pulled my drenched pant leg to my knee. Tentatively, I wiggled my toes, but failed to role my ankle because of the sheer pain that it burned with. There was already some swelling, but it wasn't broken, at least. 

 Letting out a shaky breath, I turned my head towards the person who startled me. They were no longer behind the tree, and had pulled their hood down. I recognized him immediately; the man from the convenience store. He stare at me, unsure of what to do. Rainwater dripped from his bangs, slicking down his cheeks almost like tears. His clothing were still relatively dry, so he couldn't have been outside for very long. Why he was here, watching me no less, I had yet to figure out. I had no intention not to, but my ankle had become my main focus at that point. He would have to wait.

 Shifting my weight to my opposite leg, I pushed myself to an unsteady standing position. Turning back to the direction I came, I slowly began to limp down the pathway. Each step sent a ripple of agony up my leg, like someone were holding it over an open flame, and I bit my lower lip to keep myself from crying out. Sudden footsteps echoed behind me, and I jerked around, only to find myself falling at my lack of balance. Instead of smacking against the ground again, a hand grasped on to my wrist, and an arm wrapped itself around my waist. 

 I looked up to see the stranger holding me. "What makes you think you're in any shape to walk around in this weather?" he asked. 

 "What makes you think you can you can touch me?" I retorted. 

 "You're hurt." 

 "I'm fine." 

 "You're lying." 

 "You scared me." 

 "That's why I'm trying to help you, this is my fault." he said. 

 To that, I had no remark. I knew I wouldn't be able to make it back to apartment like that. Hell, I didn't even know where I was. He seemed to understand that, and picked me up in his arms, holding me to his chest. Carefully, he stepped around the mud-slicked pathway, and gently placed me down on a park bench. "I'm going to have to take a look at your ankle," he told me. 

 Hesitantly, I nodded, and stretched my leg out across the bench. He bent down, hovering his hand over the bruising area. "It doesn't seem too serious, you've probably just rolled it," he said, before pressing his fingers against the swollen flesh.