You were in a bit of a troubling situation. You simply went on a late night snack run. 12am. As you were carrying your bags of junk back to your apartment, you crossed through the parking lot. There were an awful lot of people here tonight.. weird. A few guys stood by, discussing something privately, exchanging unidentifiable items between each other. Probably a drug deal. Nothing spectacular or new. One of the men stood out, though, he would be hard to forget. A shaggy, black cut of hair reaching to his shoulders. Tattoos covering his neck and arms.. he was gorgeous, to put it plainly. But, since when were junkies your type?

You yawned, and kept it moving, when you felt a tap to your shoulder. A man in about his forties, staggering closer to you, with the smell of alcohol on his breath. You’d tried and failed to get him away safely, and you were starting to wonder if you and your snacks would make it to your bed that night.

“Hey. She’s not feelin’ you. Pack it up.” A low voice boomed. It was him, the drug dealer?? He yanked the drunk’s shoulder back, almost knocking the man off his feet.