SUMMERTIME | T. STARK | ON HOLD

❂ RUNNING

Running.

Running.

Running.

Blood pumped through my veins feeling like pure electricity as my aching my feet, seemingly weighing a ton, dragged behind my legs striding as if my life depended on it; because quite frankly it did. Failing to ignore the echo of my own footsteps against the damp concrete, I couldn't help but acknowledge my lungs feeing of scorching fire while the sound of my own heart played to the beat of a drum within my ears drowning out all other distractions.

As I learned from the myriad of movies I'd seen over the course of my nineteen years, the one thing you should never do when being chased is look behind you to see if the perpetrator has gained on you. However, being the paranoid individual I was, I did exactly that. Whipping around my head of disheveled, poorly dyed hair, my chin roughly pressed against my rigidly falling and rising shoulder as a hazy vision of a dark figure made my pulsating limbs run ice cold; the tingling sensation tricking my mind into thinking I had come into contact with a bone chilling breeze. Figuring I was no athlete, I had to use the one thing I had in my favor, wit, and mindlessly lurched into an eerie alleyway as soon as my body abruptly rounded a corner; hoping the brute man would assume I mindlessly crossed the street or continued my escape in the same direction I was previously.

"Shit, shit, shit." I panted nearly out of breath as my sensitized temple fell into my trembling hands struggling to hold their position atop my elbows poorly supported by my wobbling knees, all while my nose cringed harshly at the putrid odor emitting from the overflowing piles of garbage, brimming with nearly anything one's imagination could conjure, I had reluctantly tucked myself into; in the hopes of concealing my presence.

Mustering up any energy I had left within my bones stripped of the simple luxury, I cautiously rose to my feet as my heart began an attempt to escape from my rib cage feeling of iron prison walls. "He's gone, he's gone, fuck, please let him be gone." I murmured with the little breath still occupying my nearly barren lungs.

Inhaling one steady, yet trembling, breath I tugged on the corners of my worn denim jacket, it's blue jean material rugged to the tough, and attempted to slick my disheveled clothing along with my fear struck persona. Exhaling, my pair of tattered converse took not as much as a full three steps before hastily colliding with a stranger my mind automatically assumed to be a gruesome thug sent to collect me. In a flash, my torso felt the warm sensation of another humans touch feeling as if it were trying to prevent a nasty fall, is he helping not hurting? Not having time to decipher the intentions of his actions, I rashly forced myself from his grip by jerking my limbs in any direction his firm, yet gently, grasp wasn't.

An honest defense mechanism when coming into contact with another's touch at this point in my life.

"Woah, woah, slow down there blondie." A bourbon smooth voice repeated as an amused laugh followed his words while his glassy eyes scanned the frightened blonde's features. "No need to worry, I don't bite, at least not outside the bedroom." He wisecracked in the attempt to lighten the mood.

"I- it's fine. I have to go. Goodbye." I curtly replied as my body wiggled from his loose grasp, the unsecured grip probably caused by the same alcohol emitting from his poignant breath, as my body immediately turned on the heel of my foot eager to run. Not knowing where or how long but just enough to get away. Away from it all.

"Somewhere to be? He's a lucky man but I assure you he's not as good as me, sweetheart." The mysterious man called out sarcastically eager to gain a response from me, a response hopefully answering his curiosity now burning like a hot California summer's day. To his surprise, my blonde head of hair whipped back but not with the intent to playfully respond but rather to slap the smug grin off his face.

"The name isn't sweetheart, not to you, not to anyone. So go fuck yourself, asshole." I spewed with venom fresh on my tongue as my menacing gaze stared holes directly though his playboy exterior while my skin felt stinging needles atop my furrowed brows, oh he's so screwed now I can feel the anger in my fucking brows.

"The names not asshole, it's Tony." He mused at my little temper as the same coy smirk remained atop his lips, "and I already have, twice today actually." He remarked.

"Well, Tony, third times the charm." I mimicked his sarcastic tone in response as my back quickly turned to face him while my heels were quick to leave this cocky bastard to play with himself.

"So I take it you wouldn't want to come back to my place, then?" The brunette called out in a poor attempt to lure me back into his presence hopelessly anxious to solve the intriguing mystery of the spicy blonde. Tony's irresistible charm was never turned down with such ease and hostility. Ever. Just who is this puzzling woman?

Without as much as a word I lifted both my hands above my head displaying raised middle fingers to hopefully silence his arrogantly cocky cat calls. Just who the hell does he think he is? Probably some playboy-wannabe who buys knock off Rolex's to impress the desperate frizzy-haired dames wandering the streets of Hollywood. Just another California asshole.

Or is he?

Remember when I wanted this to be posted in the summer?? LETS ALL LAUGH AT THAT. HILARIOUS I AM. Nevertheless, let's enjoy the summery vibes to come, mkay? Thanks (:

Anyways, how we feeling? We interested orrr?? I hope you guys stay along for the ride and all its twists and turns! Let me know what you think!

With much love,

Maddy xx