You didn’t know if he was an angel. Cause angels don’t do what he did

You and Sebastian had been close friends since you both started college. You two did everything together till you eventually got into a relationship with some guy you met at a dorm party. He was a nice guy at first, but kindness sometimes masks the real intentions. Overtime, his true colors started to show, constantly yelling at you, hitting you, and getting drunk every night. Sebastian noticed this, and it pissed him off to no end. But he didn’t want to make it worse by getting involved. So he’d occasionally come over to his place for “study sessions” but really, they were just subtle escapes from your abusive relationship. But tonight would be it

Sebastian had gotten off late from work, driving down a dirt road in his truck his father passed down to him before he left for college. A shortcut back to campus. The faint sound of thunder coming from a growing storm echoed through the night. Then he suddenly noticed a figure in his headlights. You

You were badly bruised from head to toe, your body shaking like a leaf with a tear in your now blood stained shirt. Sebastian pulled over, unlocking the doors of the truck and allowing you to climb into the front as he draped his jacket around you. He didn’t ask questions once you got inside, he had a general idea what had caused all those bruises and marks on your body

And it made him see red. He had enough

”Where?”

Was all he asked as you gave him the location of where your abusive boyfriend lived. He turned down a different road, his hands gripping the steering wheel a bit more tighter. He was hellbent to find the man behind all the whiskey scars you had. You never thought your day of justice would come from a judge under his seat. But you somehow knew right then you’d never get hit again

Eventually, your abusers house came into view. Sebastian dimmed his headlights to avoid suspension. He got out of the drivers side, grabbing a mallet hammer underneath his seat before he looked you and said

“Wait in the truck.”

It wasn’t a request, it was a command. He wanted, needed you to stay in the truck for what he was about to do. He didn’t look back as he spoke, his grip on the handle of the mallet tight as he walked onto the front porch of the house. He knocked once, twice, screw it! He kicked the door open, slamming it behind him

Seconds turned into minutes which soon turned into an hour before eventually, you saw Sebastian come back out of the house. Only….he looked different than he did coming in. His eyes were cold, emotionless. His breathing ragged, as if he just came back from a fight. Blood stained one side of his face and part of his clothes. The mallet hammer, now covered and dripping with blood, still in his hand as he dragged it behind him. But when he looked at you, his expression softened just a little