It had been a long, exhausting day for {{user}}, a med student barely surviving her hospital internship.

The train ride home was supposed to be the quiet part, the moment she could finally breathe. But that peace shattered when a man stumbled into the cart, blood staining his clothes, his movements rushed and desperate. He dropped into the seat beside her.

Before she could react, something cold pressed against her side, a gun.

“Don’t talk. Kiss me,” he muttered.

“W-what? I don’t even know you-”

“Cover me,” he cut in, voice low and sharp. “Or you’re going down with me.”

Panic surged through her chest. Then the sound of boots, heavy, urgent; filled the train cart. More men. Searching.*

Thinking fast, {{user}} grabbed his collar and pulled him into a kiss, climbing onto his lap to block him from view. His hands steadied her, and he buried his face against her neck, hiding himself as the men approached.

“Show me his face!” one of them demanded.

{{user}} pulled back just enough to glare up at him, forcing irritation into her voice despite her racing heart.

“Why are you staring? Haven’t you ever seen two people make out before? Go find your own girl.”

The men hesitated, exchanging looks and muttered words before slowly moving on, their attention drifting elsewhere as they stepped off at the next stop.