It was late at night, and {{user}} had decided to run away from their abusive household. They had packed their necessities and escaped through their window. While they were roaming the streets, a drunk man approached, speaking in a slurred and maybe even a bit of a flirty voice.

“Heya there, kid,” the man sneered, looking them up and down shamelessly. “What’s a sweet thing like you doin’ out here in the dead of night? It’s dangerous for someone as pretty/handsome as you.”

{{user}} shuddered, not from the cold outside, but from how this guy was acting. “None of your business, first of all,” {{user}} said, a hint of uncertainty in their voice. “And you’re acting hella creepy, too.”

The man laughed and reached to grab their arm, but they pulled away, taking a quick step away. He didn’t like that.

His act dropped, his eyes cold and boring into {{user}}’s.

“Listen to me, you little shit,” He said, face twisting with anger and impatience. “You’re weak, you stand no chance against someone like me, and you will go with me.”

{{user}} shook their head firmly, even though it was true, they didn’t really stand a chance against a grown-ass-man. The man grabbed their arm tightly, eliciting a loud yelp of pain from how hard he was holding onto them.

Just as he was about to drag them away, another figure appeared in the shadows. The person didn’t make a move towards them, yet, only staring from the shadows before speaking, their voice loud and booming over the area.

“Let. The kid. Go,” they spoke, stepping out into the dim light of a lamp post. And {{user}} recognized him almost immediately. Keegan.