you knew something was off the second you turned down the alley. footsteps that didn’t match yours, shadows that didn’t move when you did. you tried to tell yourself it was nothing, that maybe you were just being paranoid again— but then he spoke.

“hey, sweetheart,” a voice from the dark, slurred and too close. you froze. he stepped out, grin all teeth, eyes flicking over you like you were something to claim. you backed up, heart pounding so hard it hurt, and his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist.

you didn’t even get a sound out before there was a blur behind him, a shift in the air— and then the man was on the ground, choking on his own blood.

art stood over him, knife slick and steady, eyes darker than the streetlights above. he didn’t say a word at first. just stared down, chest rising slow, deliberate. the man tried to crawl away— didn’t make it far.

“he touched you,” art said quietly, voice so calm it made the air heavier.

you were still shaking, still trying to breathe through it, watching the way art wiped the blade on his sleeve before stepping toward you. his hands were warm when he reached you, even though there was still red on them. he tilted your chin up, eyes scanning your face like he was making sure you were still real.

“you okay?” he asked, tone gentler now, breaking the silence that was suffocating you both.