Just Go Along With It ✔️

Good Guy, Bad Guy, Red Guy, Green Guy

The fine for the window came to nearly a neat $80.00 that you didn't have, and time flew after that too fast. It's now Saturday, and your shift went as well as it could with nothing too bad happening. But, as fate would have it, on closing the shop, someone had decided to burst your tires (only three!) and put another stone through the window. This time, it was labeled bimbo and the rock was the size of two of your fists together.

The verdict: you weren't driving home tonight.

"What would you know," you hummed under your breath in annoyance. Quickly, you whipped out your phone to photograph the evidence before the fading daylight got too bad. "More misleading things that will make rumours and take half my payslip to fix."

The road was silent as you made sure to get the evidence, like all traffic had diverted to an alternate route. Too quiet. Like the sort of quiet that comes in a movie before -

Your phone buzzed in your hands. Incoming call.

Unknown number.

Quickly, you answer it. "Eff off, Thor, I know its you throwing rocks -- we ended it! I don't need you in my ear like a -,"

"________, it's me, Loki," he manages to get a word in the edge ways.

"Loki? How'd you get my number?" You pressure, heart racing off the charts within your chest. "Why are you calling? How?"

He sighs. "Thor should be more careful where he leaves his phone, and really needs a passcode. But really, I'm not calling to brag. I know you're in trouble. Nat Romanoff had a tip off of what happened, and I had to check. Are - are you okay?"

You can't help but deflate a little. All the pent-up frustrations and the worry and now, another rock through more glass just went straight from of your tense shoulders now that you could hear his voice.

"No," you mutter. "I can't drive at all, and it's too late to take a cab back to the university, even if I had the cash. Can - would it be too much if I -,"

You heard the melody of keys jangling, the shift of clothing, and a determined tone in his voice. "I'm on my way. What street are you in?"

As you rattle off details, you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched; and not the kind of watched that suggests it's just an old lady with her binoculars being a busybody. It's the sort of being watched which raises your arm hairs and has the Jaws theme nagging in the back of your mind. 

"Don't hang up," you tell him. "I - I don't feel safe."

Loki made a harrumph of approval. "I'm sure you aren't feeling that, you've been attacked anonymously for the second time this fortnight. Besides, I like hearing your voice." He adds, and you hear his car start up in the background. "Tell me about your day. That should give you something else to think about."

Looking up, you frown. There are no stars tonight. "Well, I had my usuals," you gesture to the bakery beside you, now closed and lifeless for the night, "Mr Lee had his usual coffee and chat. And Dr Richards came by, to pick up a cake for his wife's birthday. He's a nice man, Dr Richards. And - uh," you stutter, hearing a car screech nearby. You wonder if it's your saviour, or someone with an ill will. "Loki?"

"________? What's wrong?" He gasps.

"Th-there's a car nearby, coming. Is it you? Please tell me it's you." You manage to say through your fear.