The city always seemed different at night. The neon signs blurred into streaks of pink and blue across wet pavement, the buzz of traffic a distant hum compared to the sharp echo of your footsteps on the nearly empty street. You tugged your jacket closer around you, glancing at the time glowing on your phone screen.

It wasn’t that late, not really. But the streets in this part of town emptied fast, and the emptiness was exactly what made your skin crawl.

At first, you thought you were imagining it—the shuffle of someone else’s steps behind you. But the sound didn’t fade, it matched yours. Quicker when you sped up. Slower when you tried to calm your pace.

Your throat tightened.

Don’t panic, you told yourself. You’ve walked this way a hundred times. It’s nothing.

But your gut was screaming otherwise.

You cast a subtle glance over your shoulder. A man lingered about twenty feet behind, hood pulled up, hands shoved into his pockets. His gaze wasn’t on the ground or his phone. It was on you.

Your pulse kicked into overdrive.

You pulled your phone out again, unlocking it with trembling fingers. There was only one person you wanted right now, one voice that could steady the storm inside you. You hit Bucky’s name and brought the phone to your ear.

It rang once. Twice.

“Doll?” His voice was rough with warmth, the kind of tone that always melted tension in your chest. “Everything okay? You don’t usually call this late.”

You let out a shaky breath, your voice low so the man behind you wouldn’t hear. “Bucky, I—I think someone’s following me.”

The silence on his end was sharp. Lethal. “Where are you?”

“Walking home from work. On—” You glanced at the cross street up ahead, whispering the name like it was classified information.

“Okay. Keep walking. Don’t stop, don’t let him know you’re onto him. I’m coming to you right now.” His voice dropped lower, steel threading through it. “Tell me exactly what’s happening.”

You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes forward even though your instincts begged you to look back again. “He’s… twenty feet behind. Hoodie. He’s been matching my pace for a few blocks. I tried slowing down, speeding up—he’s still there.”

Bucky cursed under his breath. You could hear him moving, the familiar creak of leather as he grabbed his jacket. “Stay on the phone with me, doll. I need you to keep talking. Where’s the nearest well-lit spot? Store, bar, anything?”

You scanned ahead. “There’s a gas station two blocks up.”

“Good. Head straight there. Don’t run unless he tries something. Just walk fast and confident like you’re not scared.”

“Bucky, I am scared,” you whispered, tears pricking your eyes even though you tried to fight them.

“I know, baby. But listen to me—you’re not alone. I’ve got you. Just keep talking to me, yeah?” His voice softened, grounding you. “What’d you eat for dinner tonight?”

A startled, shaky laugh broke through your fear. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Distract yourself for me. What’d you have?”

“Leftover pasta.” Your eyes darted toward the shadow behind you, still trailing. “Wish I’d saved you some.”

“Mm, I’ll hold you to that tomorrow.” He kept his tone even, calm, even though you knew inside he was already a storm. “Almost at the station?”

“Half a block.”

“Good girl. Keep going.”

You pushed forward, heart racing. The glow of the gas station lights was just ahead when the sound of quickened footsteps echoed behind you.

Your breath hitched. “Bucky—he’s getting closer.”

“Get inside the station. Now.” His voice cut like steel, sharp and commanding. “Don’t look back. Just move.”

You hurried the last stretch, practically stumbling into the fluorescent-lit store. The bell above the door chimed, the safety of other people wrapping around you like a shield. You pressed the phone closer. “I’m inside.”

Relief bled into Bucky’s voice, though it was still tight. “Good. Stay there. Don’t go anywhere until I get to you. Couple minutes out.”