My flats tapped along the sidewalk as I looked around, trying to remember which route I was supposed to take to get back to the dorms. Currently, I was torn between two paths. I stopped, thinking as hard as I could. It wasn't like I could ask anyone. I had foolishly taken one of the back streets, hoping it would lead to a shortcut, but found that I was nothing but lost. I huffed, frustrated.

"I should have taken a map..."

Looking at my watch, I saw that it was already 8:30. Ellie would be worried. I had been wandering out here for forty-five minutes. My brow creased with worry, but I gained a new found determination to find my dorm as I realized how happy my friend would be to hear I was safe.

When I first left Ellie, I had enjoyed my walk. Not because she was gone, but because I truly felt free to explore. The beginning of my walk was wonderful. More often than not, I caught myself strolling with my mouth slightly agape as I stared in awe of the beautiful buildings that could only be found in London.

Unfortunately, the truth remains that I could get lost inside a paper bag. Now, I had no idea where I was.

Sighing, I chose the turn on my left, hoping it would at the very least take me back to Piccadilly so I could ask someone for directions. I shivered. It was already dark.

Pulling my pea coat tighter against my body to shield me from the cool September air, I made a mental note to never wear such a short dress again. Even though the performance we saw required formal attire, I could have easily worn slacks and a blouse. Instead, I was stuck in a skimpy, red and white polka-dotted dress that barely fell to the middle of my thighs. I admonished myself for not checking the weather before I left my dorm in the morning and continued down the side street.

It didn't take me long to realize I had made yet another wrong turn. The further I walked, the more run-down the buildings became. Benches were spray-painted with profanities and symbols I couldn't understand. Papers and trash littered the streets, and the few cars I saw remained owner-less, parked haphazardly in "No Parking" areas or next to fire hydrants. Several of the buildings had broken windows, and one had a door that barely held on to the frame by one hinge. It looked like a ghost town. My nerves started to get the better of me, and I decided it was safer to turn back than continue.

I whirled around, my heart pounding, only to slam into what felt like a wall. I stumbled back, nearly falling, but regained by balance and rubbed my head, readjusting the grey beanie that covered my ears.

"Ow..."

I looked up to see what I had hit.

It was a man, no more than twenty-two years old. He towered over my small five foot frame by what looked like over a foot. He had to have been at least six feet and two inches tall. His wind-swept hair was light brown, and relatively long, nearly reaching the bottom of his ears. I noticed that it managed to outline his face perfectly, nonetheless, and his bright blue eyes seemed to shine, even in the darkness. I jumped, surprised he had managed to sneak up behind me.

"Oh! I'm so sorry sir. I didn't see you there... I didn't hurt you, right?" I shot him a worried look, mortified that I crashed into someone I didn't even know.

He smirked, and shook his head slightly, looking down to meet my gaze.

I smiled at him, relieved, and realized that now might be a good time to ask for directions. I felt a little bad about asking someone I nearly knocked over for a favor, but I really did have to get back to campus. I became significantly more uncomfortable when I realized that I had to look up in order to speak to him. I hated being short. Somewhat nervously, I played with my hair and got the courage to ask my question.

"I... Um... I'm sorry to trouble you sir, but I was just wondering if you could tell me where Piccadilly is? I'm a bit lost." I blushed, but laughed a little, hoping to lighten the mood.

The same smirk stayed on his face, and I shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably.

Why wasn't he saying anything?

It was only then that I realized what he was wearing. Torn jeans with paint splatter covered his long legs, and he wore a plain grey t-shirt stained with dirt, and a black leather jacket that seemed to be the only thing he owned in pristine condition. The head of a snake tattoo poked out from his shirt sleeve. I gasped.

I was really in the wrong place. I began shaking uncontrollably, and I bit my lip, fighting to stay strong and prevent myself from stuttering.

"I- N- Never mind. Thank you anyway, sir. I have to go now. Goodbye." I rushed to finish my sentence, and moved quickly to step around him.

He crossed his arms in front of him. "Now, where do you think you're going, young lady?" His low voice sent a shiver down my spine, and before I knew it, he had reached out and grabbed my arm in his vice-like grip.