Love is Evil

The City of Wallowdale

•Y/N: Your Name
•E/C: Eye Color

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Author's POV:
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     All seemed peaceful throughout the city of Wallowdale, though the streets bustled with people, rushing cars and chugging trains. The brilliant sun deceived the cold of the breeze cutting between the towering skyscrapers that gleamed under the light. Citizens tucked their chins in scarves and tucked their hands deep in the pockets of their warm coats as they went about their day, heading into work, shopping or exploring the many wonders of the megalopolis. Some preferred a slower start to the morning than others with a cup of some hot drink to warm the soul and a sweet pastry to hold you off until noon, perhaps even a moment of silence to read that book you've been meaning to get to.

     In a popular coffee shop in the West District of Wallowdale called Secret Brew, we meet the damsel of our story. In her hands, she held a red hardcover, the pages crisp and fresh, never opened until now. She had just picked it up at the bookshop next door, her idea of a perfect start to her day off. On the table in front of her sat her choice of drink, a mug of steaming hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and curled shavings of chocolate, alongside a plate with a piece of apple-cinnamon honey cake that already had a few bites taken out of it.

     Her E/C eyes darted across the pages, engaged in the story so much that the rest of the customers having conversations were drowned almost completely. In her own little bubble by the window, all that mattered to her was what might happen next. Without tearing her eyes away, the woman brought her drink to her mouth, a stain of red left behind on the white ceramic from her lipstick as she pulled it away. The sweet flavor and heat pulled out a contented sigh out of her as she set it back down on the table and continued reading. There were only a few times she pulled her gaze away, when she wanted a bite of her cake or a peek outside the long, paned window to rest her eyes.

     The peace was soon broken, however. As always, peace was fleeting. The door slammed open, and a burly man dressed fully in black with a ski mask over his head entered with a gun in hand, raised in the direction of the cashier who jumped in their skin at the sight of him. Blue eyes set wide, they threw their hands up and trembled under the barrel as the gunman came closer with quick, intimidating steps.

    "Everyone, get on the floor, now!" Waving the gun around the room with his finger hovering over the trigger, he got the entire coffee shop to do his bidding, including the reading damsel who had just wanted a nice start to her day. Of course this would happen now. A paper bag was thrown at the counter as the gun returned to the sweating cashier, who was close to tears. "Empty the register!" Fumbling to open the bag, the nervous worker opened the drawer without hesitation, unloading all the cash inside. "And grab me one of those scones while you're at it!" The robber sounded cockier now, grinning as one of the other workers hurried to open the display case to grab his order.

     E/C eyes darted over to the exit. It was so close, and the robber seemed distracted. She was certain she could make it. All she had to do was run, then she could escape and get help. Hopes high and adrenaline running wild through her veins, the woman slowly stood from the floor and made a break for the door. Unfortunately, things didn't go according to plan. Her tall heels clicked too loudly against the tile. The gunman's head turned in seconds, and his hand caught her swiftly by the back of her jacket. She was yanked towards him with a hard tug, causing her burgundy skirt to sway around her legs as she stumbled back.