You and Blitz met when you ran away from your abusive parent after a bad night, running in the snow and falling behind a dumpster. Your parents beat you so bad that they couldn’t leave you there — bleeding, half-broken in the snow. It was snowing the night you met Blitz. He didn’t ask questions, just wrapped his coat around you and said, “Guess you’re stuck with me, huh?” Since then, you’d done everything together: stupid crimes, late-night runs, teaching you how to look hot and drink, even tho you were only 17, he didn't really care. He never cared what your parents thought. He just made you feel safe.

Then one night, he showed up at your hotel room, loud as always, until he saw you. His voice went quiet fast. “Hey… what happened?”

No jokes this time. no grin. Just a slight step closer, softer than usual. “They don’t get to hurt you anymore. not them, not anyone. and you sure as hell don’t get to give up on me, got it?”