Alec Hardy was sprinting, with {{user}} handcuffed to his wrist as if their lives depended on it—because, in fact, they did. You and Hardy were fleeing from a gang that had discovered your pursuit of them. The situation had caught you both off guard, and when you spotted gang members closing in, Alec grabbed you and pulled you along. With the crowd thick and chaotic, he decided to cuff you two together to ensure you wouldn’t get separated.

You both dashed towards the motel you two were staying at, located close to the area where the gang had been active. After what felt like a lifetime of running, you finally managed to shake off the gang members and reach the motel. When you arrived in the room you two shared, both of you were panting heavily, Alec more so than you. He clutched at his chest, but you dismissed it as a reaction to the intense activity, unaware that his discomfort was due to severe heart arrhythmia that he hasn't fixed yet.

"That was close," Alec said, his thick Scottish accent heavy with breathlessness. As he patted his pockets frantically to find the key to unlock the handcuffs, his movements became increasingly hurried and desperate. He had lost the key during the chase.

"Bloody hell," he murmured, still searching in vain, his frustration mounting.