• If I could turn back time •

0. Prologue

A soft, sweet tune escaped my lips in the form of a whistle as I strolled down the sidewalk. Street lamps cast shadows across the sickly yellow light they shone upon the cracked concrete. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, its beautiful colors having their last hurrah in the sky before they too were overtaken by the inky blackness of night.

It was quiet, aside from the sound of my shoes on the rough surface beneath me. They clicked and scraped against the concrete, making the only noise in the vicinity. My thoughts drifted to the apartment, and Steve. He was probably drawing again, using the lamp to give him light. A part of me wished that to be true, but I had to be reasonable. The little punk just couldn't keep himself out of fights, especially ones that were way out of his league. I'd come to expect finding him all beaten and bloody in an alleyway with a man twice his size towering over him. It happens more often than you think.

And so I picked up the habit of glancing down alleyways, just checking to see if I could spot his mess of blond hair or his scrawny frame.

So far, nothing.

Now things seemed eerily quiet. Usually I'd be able to hear people having conversations on their front porch or the rattling of a car off in the distance. Tonight, I heard nothing but myself.

A shiver wracked my spine when a chilly breeze blew past and I pulled my coat tighter around my lean body. Winter was on its way, I could feel it nipping at my nose. It made my teeth chatter and my cheeks flush up with color. The cold hardly bothered me, though. I was used to it.

I was nearing the apartment now. The soft lights in the distance spurred me onwards, my pace now close to that of a light jog. Steve would be waiting for me. He was probably hungry and I didn't want him to catch the kitchen on fire... again. My heart fluttered a little at the thought of him, but I ignored the feeling because I thought I heard something off to my left. I slowed down to a standstill, listening very carefully.

There was shouting, and one distinct voice that I just couldn't ignore: Steve. I immediately broke into a sprint, tearing across someone's front lawn and racing into an alleyway. My shoes clicked loudly against the pavement and my heart was pounding in my ears. The shouts grew louder as I approached.

I nearly slipped as I whipped around a corner, the pavement still slick from the melting snow. There was Steve, pressed up against a brick wall with a trickle of blood running down the side of his face and a man twice his size towering over him like a cat who just cornered a mouse. Anger boiled in my chest and I cupped my hands around my mouth. "Hey, asshole! How 'bout you mess with someone your own size?!" I shouted, my breath coming out in white foggy clouds in front of me.

The brute turned on a dime the second those words left my mouth and now we were locked in a staring contest. Who could intimidate the other first? He looked ready to pound me into a pulp, but I looked ready to kill. No one messed with Steve and got away with it.

"Well well.... looks like Tiny here's got a friend to save him from the beating he deserves!" The brute taunted, casually punching a fist into his open palm. He hardly had a mark on him, which I expected since Steve couldn't even reach his face, let alone land a devastating blow with those scrawny arms of his.

I cracked my knuckles as I marched towards him and would've rolled up my sleeves if I didn't have my nice jacket on. "The only one here who deserves a beating is you." I spat, immediately throwing a punch and hitting him right on the jaw. He stumbled backwards, lightly touching his jaw with his hand before growling at me. I sidestepped a swing from him, but wasn't quick enough to dodge the follow-up. His fist caught me in the face near my right eye and knocked me into a puddle, which caused dirty water to splash up all over my jacket. I heard Steve gasp, but I couldn't focus on him right now.