The streets were unusually quiet tonight. The steady hum of city life had faded into the background, replaced by the faint echo of your footsteps against the cracked sidewalk. You tugged your coat tighter around yourself, breath puffing into the cold night air as you turned the corner toward your apartment.

That’s when you heard it — the sound of another set of footsteps.

At first, you thought you were imagining it. But then they matched your pace. When you slowed, they slowed. When you sped up, they did too.

Your heart picked up speed as you glanced over your shoulder. A shadow flickered under a streetlight — tall, dark jacket, too far away to make out a face. You cursed under your breath and quickened your pace, fishing your phone out of your bag with shaking hands. You pressed Johnny’s name before you could think twice.

It rang once. Twice.

“Hey, baby. What’s up?” His voice was warm and teasing, but when he heard your shaky breath, it sharpened immediately. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“There’s—” you started, voice low, eyes darting over your shoulder again. The figure was closer now. “Someone’s following me, I think.”

The sound of a chair scraping echoed on his end. “Where are you?”

“Elm and 6th. I’m almost—”

“Stay on the phone,” Johnny said firmly. “Don’t look back. Just keep walking. I’m coming.”

You could hear the faint whoosh in the background — that familiar burst of air, the sound of heat catching oxygen. Your chest loosened slightly, though your hands still trembled.

You turned onto your street, glancing behind you just long enough to see the figure speeding up. Panic flooded your chest. “Johnny, he’s—”

And then a streak of light blazed across the sky.

“—right there,” Johnny’s voice finished as he landed in front of you, the air rippling with leftover heat. The sudden glow from his flames lit the dark street in gold and orange, casting the shadow of your would-be follower in sharp relief before the guy bolted down an alley.

Johnny’s flames dimmed immediately as he turned to you, scanning your face with that mix of concern and anger only he could pull off. “You okay?” he asked, stepping closer, his hands still warm as they found your arms. “Did he touch you? Say anything?”

You shook your head, breath finally catching up with you. “No. You got here just in time.”

His jaw clenched, but his eyes softened as he brushed a thumb along your cheek. “Yeah,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth tilting into a small, protective smile. “No one messes with my girl.”

He glanced down the alley once more before wrapping his arm around you. “C’mon, let’s get you home. And tomorrow? I’m walking you to work.”

“Johnny, you can’t walk me everywhere.”

“Watch me,” he said, smirking, though his thumb never stopped tracing slow circles against your arm as he guided you home.