It's kind of a good thing Ginny stopped aging at a young age. She still has her fast reflexes, which are really quite useful since she's on the run.

Bang! Bang! Ginny ducks as a pair of bullets go whizzing over her head. She fires back and one of the cops goes down, but the other doesn't spare him a glance, continuing his fierce pursuit of her.

She turns right and runs into an alleyway, realizing about a second too late that there's a dead end. The cop seems to realize this and slows down, grinning maniacally.

"I've got you now, pipsqueak," he leers. Ginny flattens her back against the wall as the cop advances on her. She's cornered and they both know it.

The cop presses the trigger and Ginny lurches to the side, the bullet nicking her cheek. She grits her teeth as pain shoots through her, but she doesn't let the cop know about it.

She can shoot - but as she pushes down the trigger, no bullets come out. With growing trepidation, she's realizes that she's doomed.

And suddenly, the wall supporting her gives way and she stumbles backward, and the cop, startled, starts firing. Ginny doesn't get hit, however, and she faintly registers another gun shooting beside her.

"Go. I've got this son of a bitch," her savior calls. "Get inside!"

Ginny obeys and scrambles further into the hall, nearly knocking over a vase. She enters a kitchen and decides she's gone far enough.

She can still hear gunfire, but it's fainter now. Finally, one last shot is fired and all is silent.

She tenses, gripping her own weapon tightly - it's useless, but she can use it in other ways - and she hears footsteps in the hall.

"Relax, it's me," her savior says. "That cop is dead."

Ginny relaxes just a tad. "Who are you?"

"I'm Neville." He sticks out and Ginny takes it, wary.

And then, a bolt goes through her, electrifying and scorching hot and she gasps. Neville appears to notice it too and he stills. Neither of them withdraw their hands.

Ginny speaks first. "You're my soulmate," she states baldly, warmly.

Neville swallows. "Yeah," he agrees.

Suddenly, Ginny doesn't want to leave. She wants to stay here with Neville, and not have to worry about running from police or where she's going to sleep and eat.

"Is that...blood?" His hand pulls away and tentatively touches her cheek. His hand is warm, so she doesn't recoil.

"One of the bullets nicked me," she confirms wearily.

"I'll patch you up," he promises, looking into her eyes tenderly.

"...Thank you," she says, butterflies arousing in her stomach. She's putty in his hands as he inspects her for more injuries. She doesn't bother telling him that she's got no more, because she enjoys the feeling of his hands brushing against her skin.

"You're okay," he reports. "Your cheek wound needs stitches, but lucky for you, my grandmother taught me how to sew when I was younger. Come."

He starts walking away, but halts as she grabs his arm. "Are you okay?"

"...Yeah," he replies after a moment. "Yeah, I'm fine."


RA, Day 3 - You stop aging at a certain age, until you meet your soulmate and grow old together.

Writing Club - Cookie's Crafty Corner, Needles; CYB: D3; Lyric Alley - 19. Another round of bullets hits my skin; Angel's Arcade - 10. Sonya Blade ("Go. I've got this son of a bitch.", Ginny Weasley, fierce); Film Festival - 53. (object) Gun

524 words