His hands patted me down, checking for weapons. Of course, he lingered over my more. . . personal areas, but what could I do about that? He stood up with a satisfied look on his face.
"You got it?" he asked roughly.
I rolled my eyes and pulled out the ziploc bag containing his life. His eyes grew wide with a greedy glint, and he stepped foreward, reaching his hands out. I clicked my tongue and shook my head, putting the bag behing my back.
"Don't play coy with me, bitch," he growled, clenching his fists.
"Money first, I commanded, placing a hand casually on my hip and pushing the bag back into my pocket.
"Now!" he yelled, taking out his gun as multidudes of men streamed from hiding places, all guns trained on me. I laughed and walked foreward. And then I tripped, catching myself on the man's shoulders, then dropping to my kneew while catching his croch.
"Watch it slut," he grumbled, before hauling me up, and sliding the bag from my pocket. He grinned and placed his gun on my temple. I stood my ground, tears racing down my cheeks. Why did I even get into this mess? I thought. I heard the safety click off and I closed my eyes, praying for someone, anyone to come save me.
Suddenly, I heard a crunching sound, and I opened my eyes to see the man curled on theground, and a gorgeous boy standing over him. He walked over to me and held me close.
"Do you want to be safe?" he softly whispered.
I nodded, shocked at the familiar yet strange embrace.
"Just wake up," he murmered in my ear.
Wake up?
- - -
I let out a strangled cry and tumbled off of the couch.
The TV was still on, and the box of cold medicine was on its side. I slowly got up and turned the television off, and sat down on the floor, my throbbing head held in my hands. Damn cold medicine, I thought to myself. Making me have dreams about working in a crime ring and being saved by a very. . . handsome. . .
I thought back to him and realized that I couldn't quite remember his face. I pouted to myself, and got up to start my day. I looked at the clock and cringer, seeing that I only had ten minutes to get ready.
I sped up the process, skipping the hair and make up, and concentrating on my breath and clothing. I gathered my books and shoved them into my ratty backpack, and ran out of the door in my usual jeans and sweatshirt.
I sprinted past coffeeshops and bookstores, and I finally slowed to a brisk walk when my class door was in sight. A sigh of relief escaped my lips when I noticed it was still open. I released one of my backpack straps so it swung freely on my right side.
I heard punding footsteps behind me, and I turned to see several- or all -members of the track team headed right in my direction.
Panicking, I stumbled back several steps as they separated just in time. One girl slammed into me, and that was it. My backpack slipped off of my shoulder and my heel hit it. My arms flailed wildly and I sent a silent plea to anyone in the vicinity, hoping no one was watching. Feeling the sinking feeling of alling, I screwed my eyes shut and waited for impact.
It never came.
I felt strong hands on my arms, and I opened my eyes curiously.
My eyes traveled up a tattooed v-line, a white T-shirt with tattoos visible under it, and muscled tattooed arms. There were a lot of tattoos, they were just very spread out. It was very hot. It worked for him.
My eyes finished their journey with gorgeous pink lips, up to sparkling green eyes.
My heart sped up as he pulled me to my feet, picking up my backpack at the same time.
"I'm Harry," he said, handing my backpack over.
I slid it on my shoulder and replied, "I'm late," starting to walk towards my class. He fell in step with me, and linked his arm with mine. Who is this kid? I thought, slowly pulling my arms from his.
"Listen," I said, stopping abruptly. "You look nice, but I'm really going to be late."
"Oh," he said, backing up slightly. "I'll catch you after class?"
"Uh. . . sure," I said, breaking into a jog.
As I walked into class just in time, I couldn't help but think back to my dream, and how similar this Harry looked to the boy in my dream.
