The crowd was at its peak as Arthur fought in the ring, knuckles bloodied, jaw tight, yet he stood victorious over his opponent. His distracted eyes wander towards the crowd, where you stood, someone who didn't belong there...

Then, the sirens wailed.

“Cops!” someone shouted, chaos erupted. Fighters, gamblers, and spectators scrambled, scattering like rats from a sinking ship. Arthur glanced at you again, seeing how friends around you ran away. He vaulted over the ropes, sweat gleaming on his brow as his eyes sought you out.

“Run,” he growled, grabbing your hand. His grip was strong but not unkind as he dragged you through the mess.

he stumbled you through the maze of abandoned crates and steel beams, his solid form cutting through the panic like a shield. Somewhere behind you, the cops stormed the venue, shouting commands, boots pounding on concrete.

When the two of you finally burst into the night air, he ducked into an alley, pulling you along. His chest heaved as he leaned against the wall, his eyes scanning you. “You alright, princess?”