[✓] Why Don't We Imagines

for kiara

in which-

she and him are stuck together, in a mall, during a shooting.

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"yeah mom, i'm just be in the gucci store, i really want to get the short tweed dress with the chain belt. or some slides." i tell my mom through the phone, as i walk into the store. it's only me a worker, a guy in all black, and a cute blondie.

"should i get.. oh yeah the b--" i get cut off by gunshots.

pow!

pow!

pow!

i scream, followed by many other screams. "mom, there's a shooter, i've gotta go. i love you." i say before hanging up. i look around. 

the sketchy dude has a gun, the worker is dead and the blondie is tugging at me to leave. i follow him and we run towards the entrance, but the shooter shoots our way, throwing us in the chanel store.

"i'm corbyn." he says.

"kiara." i tell him.

he runs behind the counter, pressing buttons and the opening to chanel starts to close. literally. metal and all. i gasp as i back up.

just then there's shooting at the metal. he's trying to get in.

"he's trying to get in, we won't.." i stutter. "shh... let's go hid over here." corbyn says leading me into a different room.

he shuts the door and turns on the switch. it's a storage room. i look around, so does corbyn. 

"so, how old are you?" i ask. 

"20, you?" he asks.

"19." i tell him. he nods. "uh, next week, tuesday is my birthday.." i say.

"cool." he says. silence.

bang.

i squeal. corbyn turns off the light, and pulls me closer to him. he covers my mouth and then a few seconds later pulls me into a hug, sensing my fear.

i practically drag corbyn across the room when i hear the door open. i scream.

"police! hands up!" they shout. i look over at corbyn and he smiles at my ugly, crying face.

"we're free." i say, putting my hands up aswell as corbyn.

"hey, can i have your uh..number?" he asks.

i nod and smile.

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EREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH