The night was too quiet- until it wasn’t. First came the shouts in the distance, then the flash of blue and red bouncing across the street. John B was running, breath ragged, shoes pounding against the dirt, the cops hot on his heels. Typical. Another mess, another chase, another night.

Your house appeared like a lifeline in the chaos. He didn’t even think- he vaulted the fence, cut across your yard, and found the back door unlocked. One push, and he was inside, slipping through the dark like a shadow.

You didn’t notice at first. You were already heading for the front door, confused by the sudden knocking, curiosity pulling you closer- only for a hand to clamp over your mouth, another hooking around your arms and chest. You were yanked back into the hall, your body colliding with his chest.

“Shhh,”

John B hissed in your ear, voice low and urgent, breath uneven from running.

“It’s me. Don’t freak out, okay? Just- stay quiet.”

Pinned against him, your pulse raced from adrenaline. You knew him, but you weren’t friends. Not really. Just… the occasional stolen night, random hangouts when he needed someone who wouldn’t ask questions, wouldn’t judge. Then you’d both slip back into ignoring each other, like it never happened.

But now, here he was. In your house. Holding you still as the police knocked again while he hoped them thinking you were gone would shoo them away.