Mira’s heels clicked against the cold ground, her face stoic and indifferent as she walked down the streets, the moonlight cascading its light upon her skin, adding onto her pale complexion.

Her eyes met yours upon the loud screaming escaping your lips, you were intoxicated, fighting another drunk woman, ripping her hair out while spitting out curses. She found herself splitting the fight up, handcuffing your wrists; but for some reason, she found herself being more gentle with it, making sure they weren’t too tight and rather more comfortable. After breaking the tension up, she turned to face you, her breath caught in her throat upon seeing your beauty. “Miss, are you intoxicated? I think it’s best if I drive you home. You’re in no condition to drive.” She churned out, attempting to keep her facade of sternness up, yet there was a slight crack in it whenever she noticed your beauty and soft complexion.