Stop Playing Innocent // COMPLETED

22 // ...Decision.

"You motherfu-", the buff dude groans out in pain.

Meanwhile, I'm hiding behind the building this entire time and panicking like a teacher on her first day of school.

"Shit", I spin around where I stood against the wall, searching for a solution or, at least, some sort of plan B on this damn street, "Okay, shit", cursing seems to help.

Around me is nothing but a dirty floor, crumpled up newspapers, dust, possibly dried spit on the wall, and piles of litter from being next to the trash can... oh, a trash can?
Covering my nose from the unexplainable smell of horror, I shuffle through the stacks of old McDonald's wrappers and cans inside of the bin to find up a long, wool blanket.

Should I...?

It looked old, used, but this could work.

This is the dumbest idea in existence

I put the blanket aside to take off my sweatshirt, leaving me cold in just a thin tank top. Then I place it onto the 'cleanest' part of the floor and wrap the blanket around my shoulders, head and almost cover my whole body like a Russian doll. I basically needed to resemble, a random, slumped over, homeless granny.

"Take this!", the buff dude shouted from inside the alley and I shot up in fright. With a deep breath in my chest, I clench the blanket tight under my chin and make my way into the alley.

Damon is no longer standing up, but is now on the floor, laying against the wall on his back. His hand holds himself up from the floor and the other reaches to feel the gruesome forming bruise on his cheek.

Neither of the them notice my presence until exactly before the buff dude swings his leg to kick Damon in the stomach, I tug on the guys massive arm. My hands were been shaking maniacally from being so nervous but I had to keep it the fuck up.

For this minute, at least.  

"The fuck-"
He stumbles back to the side as I hold onto his forearm and stands in place to see my hand on his arm and then me. I covered my face so others could only see my nose and mouth.

"Um...?", he tries to pull himself out of my grasp but I hold on tighter than ever, "Who in the fuck are you? Get outta' here."

Plastering on my best impression of the wicked witch grin, I slowly chuckle and face up to him so the daylight flashes across my lips in a line, still hiding my eyes from his.

"Young man, I have just one favor to ask of you..."

I murmur in a huskier voice, not once glancing over at the crying girl behind him or Damon on the floor. The terrified guy attempts to take my hand from his, but again, it doesn't budge. He hesitantly replies with no pause, "The fuck do you want?"

"Do you-", smiling, I run one of my hands across the material of the blanket wrapping my body, "-see this fur?"

"Fur? What are you-"

"Well...", I drag my words, "The last remains of my dear husband Richards, a lovely father too, are what makes this beautiful velvet so soft..."

Hearing him gulp, I satisfyingly grin at the floor and lift my head up so only one of my eyes stares back into his, wide open. I delicately ask with cold fingers tracing along and up his arm, "Would you like to hear about him?"