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chapter twenty five.
Robyn was running late. Incredibly late.
She scurried down the street, as fast as she possibly could in her heels without potentially damaging her feet, which wasn't very fast, but she was almost there. Five minutes, the Italian lady had told her, that was how close the bar was. The men had left an hour ago, eager to celebrate their survival and freedom. She was an entire hour late, but in all fairness, she wasn't exactly given much notice. So, while the men had gone to the bar, Robyn was stuck in a boutique getting fitted for a new dress.
The streets were empty and quiet, apart from the sound of Robyn's feet as her shoes hit the pavement. The one thing that ran through her head was getting to the bar, so that she could see Bucky and Steve and Dugan and all the friends she had made while she was a prisoner. Of course, not paying attention could cause quite some trouble– Robyn would know this. As she turned a corner, the last thing she expected was someone to be there, making their way in the opposite direction that she was going. Her body collided with the person's, knocking her backwards until she hit the ground with a grunt.
"Miss, I'm so sorry–"
"Oh, don't be sorry, I'm the one who's rushing. I'm just running a little late," she said, scurrying up to her feet. She brushed off her skirt and prepared to run off again, when the man grabbed her arm, gently, just to stop her from running.
"You'll never be late, Robyn Jones. And you'll never be early. You will never run out of time."
This was the first time she had gotten a good look at the man. She stared at him, dumbfounded, with her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Her chest heaved as she panted for air, this being the first time she had gotten a break from running.
"How do you–"
The mysterious man, clad in all black, put a finger to his smirking lips and the girl ceased talking. He was young, and typically attractive. Under the bright streetlights, she could make out his ashy brown hair, and brown doe eyes that looked identical to hers. There was an eerie familiarity about him, though any words that she tried to muster up and say were acid in her throat– she couldn't say it, she was too scared.
"W– what's your name?"
"Sebastian. That's all you need to know."
The man gazed at the girl, almost lovingly, and before she could argue, he turned around and walked off.
Robyn stood there, unable to mood, drowning in the thoughts that gnawed at her mind. She had so many questions; too many questions. However, she had no one to ask them to because when she went back around the corner to look for the man, he was gone. Completely vanished, and there were no roads, or shops he could have entered. He had disappeared into thin air.
