FLAMES

Good Girl

You had realized something, and that's that the earlier you got to the protests, the more safe they were- the more calm they were. So, of course, now that you were adjusting your bandanna acting as a mask and looking around as the sun beat down on everyone downtown, you realized you were here entirely too late to think you were going to get home completely safe.

It was a pretty unfortunate reality, but you knew the second it his 3pm that you should've left hours before. You should just turn around, not even be here.

Apart of you was nagging, reminding you of what the masked guy had told you, reminding you of what he told you not to do. You clenched your jaw. Why the fuck should you listen to him? The only sign of humanity you had seen was the skin of his hands, his voice...Nothing. You don't know what he looks like, you can't tell if he cares- and the biggest factor that proved he didn't give a shit and you shouldn't either was that you didn't even know his name.

Shame also bubbled beneath your skin. You had literally fingerblasted yourself thinking of this stupid guy who you could only imagine anything about. All you wanted to see was his face. That's all you wanted. Then he could skip off and out of your life, and you'd never see him again.

You were realizing very quickly how bad this whole block was getting. Cops were absolutely everywhere, and pushing back on every single protester. Your voice was hoarse from screaming and chanting, and you tried to focus on the things around you. Feet center on the floor.

The protesters were being moved back, and someone tripped behind you. You tried to help them up, but the space was getting too cramped. Your face was flushed and you were out of breath, and when you saw one of the cops open a canister, you were mentally screaming. You didn't have the energy to run. You didn't want to run. But if you didn't, it'd be an exact repeat of yesterday. Hopefully minus Masked Guy.

You used all your leftover energy to scream that you were all about to be teargassed and to bolt the furthest you could. You ran into the nearest alley, closing your eyes and slumping against the wall. You open your eyes, looking to the other end and -
Oh shit.

"Come on! Jesus." You put your arms out and slap them by your side, getting upright again so you can leave the alley that only had you and Masked Guy as the residents.

He's leaning against the wall, and you can hear the slightly labored hitch of breath. He doesn't say anything, and you were really expecting a snarky comment or two. He moves his hand, instead, and when you look down, you're immediately rushing over.

His hand, even in the black glove, you can tell has blood. You kneel to look at him, moving his hand. He hisses. His pants have no rips, but you can tell there's definitely an impact wound from a rubber bullet. "We need to get you to a hospital."

You hear a light exhale under his mask, and you pray it was a sign of any sort of affection towards you. You mentally slap yourself on the wrist for wanting him to like you.

"Oh, so there's a 'we' now?" He stands up straight, and then you look like an idiot on your knees in front of him. You blush, getting up and dusting off your knees. He looks at his hand.

"No hospital. Then you and everyone else would no my identity. No hospital, because the cops are waiting for any way to come across me and have me arrested. Does that make sense, little girl?" He belittles, and you feel your ears heat up at the same level of your cheeks.

You try and help him, and he acts like this? You ignore the way it makes you feel, You ignore the way it makes you so curious of who's under that mask. You feel your throat run dry. "Don't fucking call me that, dude. But standing here, you're just going to get worse. Go home or something. Sorry my ideas are all so stupid," you scoff.