CHAPTER III

It was now the end of your shift and you left the bar through the back door, locking it. The cool air felt good on your skin. Your feet throbbed and you were running on two red eye espressos and three hours of sleep. You couldn't wait to get home.

You threw the keys in your bag and started your walk towards the university campus where you lived in a small apartment. The roads weren't very well lit but this was your home, Namimori felt safe to you. You wrapped your arms around yourself as the cool air started to give you a chill when you heard foodsteps close behind you. You were a little frightened but tried to shake it off and quickened your pace.

It wasn't long before the footsteps sped up, the was a tight grip on your shoulder and you were pulled into an alley. Before you could shout there was a hand over your mouth while the other pushed you down.

Something gleamed in the pale moonlight and you stared wide eyed when you realize it was a knife. Your assailant holds it to your neck and tells you if you make a sound he's going to slice your pretty little throat.

You're tough, you're not going to be silenced that easily and you thrash underneath his cold and clammy hands groping at you. You hiss obscenities at him, your language never being so foul. You squirm violently, the knife has nicked you several times and you could feel hot, sticky blood running down your neck.

"Oi! Get the hell off her, you perverted fucker!"

Your heart fluttered and stopped, the familiar harsh, crass tone that rang in your ears had never made you feel so happy.

Before you knew it, Gokudera had beaten this man within an inch of his life, only stopping because you pleaded for him to do so. You couldn't have a man's death and another's imprisonment weighing heavily on your shoulders. The trauma of tonight will be enough.

He breathed heavily, his chest and shoulders rising and falling rapidly. His hands, shirt and even his hair was stained maroon with the man's blood.

You were still frozen on the ground looking from your attacker to Gokudera frantically, trying to wrap your head around the last ten minutes that had seemed like hours. He looked down at you and his eyes widened at the sight of you, your white blouse matted with your blood. He rushed to your side and gripped your shoulders, harder than he realized and you winced. He frowned.

You locked eyes and for a moment this man whom you despised had become your savior.

You brushed a lock of his tainted hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear. His brow furrowed in confusion but he didn't have some ill or quick tempered remark to spit out as you invaded his personal space. A pale shade of pink brushed his cheeks.

"T-thank you," you whisper, your voice a little hoarse from all the yelling.

Gokudera's cheeks flushed bright pink. "Well I was just passing through." He cleared his throat and stood, extending his hand to you. You grabbed it and stood, but your legs wobbled and buckled underneath you and you fell into Gokudera. He fumbled you in his arms, attempting to sturdy you on your feet, his face now a shade of red that reminded you of sunburn.

He touched your neck and frowned. "You should have a doctor bandage you up," he said with mild concern.

"I'll be fine," you said shakily. "I can bandage myself, they're only shallow cuts." You steadied yourself and dusted off your skirt, noticing your knees and shins had been scraped up too, as well as your elbows and forearms. You really weren't fine, but you didn't want to lose your composure in front of a man that was so judgmental, even though he had just saved your life. Well, your humility and honor at least.

"I'll... I'll walk you home," Gokudera said.

You thought you heard a slight obligation in his tone. You let out a short laugh, a snort almost. You didn't need his obligatory assistance.

"No, I'm fine, really. I can make it home myself."

You searched the ground for your purse and saw that it was lodged underneath the large body of the unconscious pervert.

Gokudera clicked his tongue, making a "Tch" sound. "You stupid woman," he muttered.

You used your foot to roll the man over to retrieve your purse. You also had to refrain from stomping on his genitals. You began walking toward your home once again, ignoring the fact that the scrapes on your skin were burning and that you were covered in blood.

"O-oi! I was serious!" Gokudera ran to catch up to you. "As a man I can't let you walk home by yourself. Especially after what just happened. Are you sure you're alright, you don't need a doctor?"

You laughed mockingly at his out of character rambling. "I don't need a man to walk me home, Gokudera-san."

"Tch... Would you stop being so... so difficult?" His frustration brought a smile to lips.

You didn't reply and allowed him to continue to walk you home, the both of you walking in silence. You felt tears brimming but held them back several times, you didn't want to cry in front of him. When you arrived at home, you felt relieved that you did have an escort, and the way you felt right now, you were glad it was him. He followed you into the building and took the elevator up to your floor. Now that you were so close to home the threat of a breakdown was imminent. You fumbled with the items in your purse trying to find the keys and then it happened. The tears began to fall as you remembered the attack vividly. Gokudera leaned over your shoulder to see your dirt and blood stained face streaked with tears.

"O-oi! Are you alright?" He growled at his question and muttered, "Of course you're not alright." He took the keys from your trembling hands and opened up the door to your apartment, leading you in and locking the door behind him.

You just stood there, almost in a state of shock as waves of emotions flooded you and you allowed yourself to cry, you allowed yourself to feel. You didn't care if he saw you now or what he thought of you. He didn't say anything and much to your surprise, fetched you a glass of water and headed to your bathroom where he washed his hands and face and ran you a hot bath.

You stood in your entry way still, face in your hands, delicate sobs escaping you. He pried your hands from your face and wiped away your tears. His mouth formed a stern, thin line, a look of disapproval passed across his face. You stopped crying for a minute, your (e/c) eyes bright red and puffy and though you had just been through a traumatic experience, a vain thought had entered your mind. You didn't want him to see you in such a unflattering way. You sniffed, wiped the tears from your face and looked into his beautiful eyes and felt a shy smile curl your mouth. His cheeks were flushed again and he turned away from you.

You left him alone and headed to your bathroom to clean yourself up. After about an hour of thinking and crying, you finally left the bathroom dressed and checked your living room for him.

You saw him passed out in your armchair, silver hair cascading over his face. You smiled at the sight, he looked like he was hugging himself. You noticed the several twine and rubber bands he had on each wrist, the adornment of rings on several of his fingers. Following that you noticed the bruises and scrapes he had covering his knuckles he got from defending your honor. You grabbed a blanket and draped it over him.

You didn't understand it, but your body started to move on it's own. Your hand reached for the listless locks and brushed them out of his face, gently tucking it behind his ear. You found yourself leaning over and placing your lips on his smooth forehead. Your heart skipped a beat and you feared he'd wake and scold you for doing something unpredictable that caught him off guard, but he didn't stir.

You were unsure of the way you saw him in this new light, you were apprehensive of these feelings that crept up around your heart, squeezing it and stopping it whenever you thought of him. You felt safe around him, even though he was harsh and crude and made you shrink back at his hostility, you knew there was a reason for that. A reason why he needed to guard his heart.

You fell asleep on the sofa opposite of the armchair, lost in thoughts of him. The next morning when you woke, the blanket you gave him had been wrapped around you but he was gone. You felt a dredge of disappointment but expected as much from him.

You decided to take the day off of school and work and just recuperate from last night. You wanted to sort your feelings out that were growing for Gokudera because you knew nothing would ever come from it. He was reckless and hot headed, he was arrogant and not capable of empathy, at least you didn't think so. Being with him would be toxic. Thinking of him that way would only be hazardous to your health. But in the days to come, he was everywhere you were.

He wasn't, in actuality, but you were starting to see his silver hair standing out in a crowd, hearing his voice right next to your ear, hoping it was him at the end of that curling smoke, looking at you with those intense viridian orbs. You couldn't shake him, the memories of him were etched in your mind like a permanent tattoo.

Gokudera's POV

You were everywhere. He saw your face on every girl, smelled your perfume even over his desperate attempt to mask it in chain smoking. He heard your name being called by everyone that spoke. Worst of all was he could still feel your soft lips on his forehead,

That kiss he had replayed so many times in his mind it was making his head spin. He had wanted to pull you down on top of him and kiss you with a passion he had never felt for anyone else. But he was scared. Too scared of rejection, a nasty thing that plagued him his entire life for being different. He didn't like feeling vulnerable, he was a man with strength and great resolve and succumbing to a one sided love would be too reckless, even for him.

"Man," he growled, smashing a cigarette into the ashtray on his desk. He had to stop thinking of you like this.