Desperate times call for desperate measures. And right now you were pretty f/cking desperate, stumbling the streets late at night with a blood trail following you. The life of a vigilante. Break-ins on were illegal but like you said. So when you broke into a random apartment through their window and raided their bathroom for medical supplies, you didn’t feel all too bad. Until a man in pink pajama pants, and a black shirt, with black messy hair, and black tired eyes comes in and stares at you.