City of Crows [h.s]

One.

It couldn't have been more than a minute before I could feel my legs already starting to burn. My chest was beginning to grow tight, and the urge to cry pressed at the base of my throat, threatening to slow me down even more. I was actually being chased, like this was the beginning of some horrible movie. And by men who were likely criminals—not to mention definitely violent.

The realization struck enough panic into me to make me falter, tripping over my own feet. The action sent me sprawling over the sidewalk.

Pain shot up my knees at the impact. I ignored it, squeezing my eyes shut as I waited for the unavoidable assault that had to be coming.

A second passed. Then ten seconds ticked by, with me holding my breath in anticipation. As far as I could tell, no one was beating me up yet.

Slowly, still biting my tongue, I opened my eyes.

Staring back at me was a fluorescent street lamp, its pale light almost nauseating as it beat down on me. I glanced around at the empty street, confused.

Where did they go?

I swallowed. My heart was still practically lodged in my throat, beating hard. Was it because I was in a more well-lit area that they'd left?

It made me shiver. What had they been planning on doing to me, that a little bit of light was enough to lose their interest?

I didn't want to think about it.

The only thought on my mind was getting home. My palms stung, having been scratched when I'd fallen. My knees were aching. The urge to cry was still present, and my calves burned, exhausted from running.

I reached for my phone out of instinct, still a little in shock over the entire situation, only to freeze after patting down my pockets.

"For fuck's sake," I gritted out, teeth clenched.

My phone was gone.

I glanced back at the street stretching out behind me, shrouded with darkness and shadows. Had I dropped it? I must have. But the idea of going back—

I shivered.

I could just get a new phone.

*

Harry.

I bent over carefully, gritting my teeth at the way my injuries protested at the action.

My fingers closed around the fallen phone, and I grabbed it before straightening up. A brief glance at the device showed a cracked screen. The clear phone case had a Polaroid photo of a puppy tucked in the back.

I frowned. I highly doubted the fuckers that had attacked me had been the ones to drop the item.

As if to confirm my suspicions, the screen suddenly lit up with a text. It was from someone named Nicole, asking the owner of the phone if they were going to class tomorrow.

"Hm."

I stared at the lock screen after swiping the text away. The same puppy in the Polaroid stared back at me from the lockscreen, but this time a girl was holding the animal in her arms. She had long hair, messily tucked behind one ear, and was dressed in a college sweatshirt, sporting an ear-to-ear grin and laughing brown eyes.

I stared at the picture for longer than I cared to admit before the phone fell asleep in my hand, screen growing dark again.

Rolling my neck to soothe the protesting of my bruised muscles, I pulled out my own phone as I began to walk. Unsurprisingly, the person I was calling answered after one ring.