Ain't gonna lie to you all, this may not be the best. This is an experiment for me, and a little bit of a challenge from COOKIECHEESEMAN. I'm writing present tense for the first time here. It might go well.
It might not. Certainly expect to see some tense mistakes.
Oh, and decided to make this about my OTP. So a little different than your idea, Cookie ;)
Runaway
Matthew breathes quietly. He moves his feet through the grass, wary of stray twigs and other obstacles.
He fixes his eyes on the marble buildings in front of him: Dragon's Gate.
The thief creeps into the Black Fang stronghold. Men and women clad in black pass him by as he navigates the area. His red cloak was left in the forest, replaced by a less conspicuous counterpart.
His hands never leave the knives at his belt. Fingers curl and tense around the handles whenever a Fang fixes him with a second look.
He breathes again. Patience, he chides himself. Acting quickly is unwise in the profession.
Matthew pulls a set of lockpicks from his belt. Careful hands work on the lock, trying not to throw caution into the wind.
The bolts click into place. The breath the thief didn't know he held slips between his lips.
He sets foot inside Dragon's Gate. His ears are at attention, waiting for the slightest disturbance in the quiet.
Nothing stops him on his venture to find her. She's in the cells, most likely.
A Fang abruptly steps out from a corner and sees him. He gestures wildly and says, "We're under attack from some Lycian brats."
The spy's mind thinks quickly. "I know. I was sent to find anyone else back here and get them out there."
"Get out there soon," he replies, not hiding his unease of Matthew. Nevertheless, he runs the way Matthew had come from.
"I'm getting too old for this," Matthew mutters to himself as he continues on. The thief ducks as stray Fangs run past him, no doubt to the battle.
He hopes Hector will be fine without his assistance.
Matthew finds the cells. His lithe body slides through the doorway, entering the green tinged cellblock.
He walks quickly past the cages, ignoring those he does not know. At the end of the narrow hall, he finds the treasure he seeks.
She is unconscious. Blood marks her face, obscuring the familiar Leila that Matthew loved.
His set of picks fights the lock. In no time, he opens the door.
Gingerly, Matthew picks up his beloved. Her eyes are open, and she focuses on him.
"Shh," he whispers. "I've got you."
She smiles.
Author Notes: Seriously, fuck present tense. This took way too long to write for how short it is. I'll be fine not writing in present for the rest of my writing career.
But Cookie, you've got my respect for keeping with writing it! It's tough!