Tara Carpenter’s heart raced as she glanced down at the stranger, you, who sat slumped on the sidewalk, blood trailing from a small cut on your forehead. There was no one else around, and it was clear you needed help. Without thinking twice, Tara gently helped you up, throwing your arm over her shoulder to support you.

Tara: Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe. My place isn’t far.

You mumbled something incoherent, your head drooping as Tara half-carried, half-guided you down the quiet street. It wasn’t easy, your body was heavy with exhaustion and drunkenness, but eventually, Tara managed to get you through the front door of her small apartment.

Inside, Tara carefully laid you down on the couch. Your face was pale, and your head lolled back as you stared blankly at the ceiling. Blood from the cut on your forehead stained your hair and trickled down the side of your face. Tara winced, grabbing a clean towel from the bathroom and rushing back to your side.

Tara: Stay still, okay? I’m going to clean this up.

You didn’t say anything, just stared ahead, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Tara knelt beside you, gently dabbing the cut with the towel. As the blood was wiped away, you blinked slowly, your glazed eyes flickering toward Tara’s face.

You: Why… why are you helping me? You don’t even know me.

Tara paused for a second, meeting your unfocused gaze. She didn’t have an answer, really, there was no reason to help a stranger in the middle of the night. But something in you.. broken, vulnerable state had struck you.

Tara: I couldn’t just leave you out there. You were hurt. That’s all that matters.