Perhaps One Day, Maybe Someday [EDITED]

chapter 7 - flynn...rider? (1)

chapter 7 - flynn...rider? (1)

[warning: this chapter contains a little violence (which I have never written before), with equal amount of sweetness (the Superman-ish-heroic-action-type of sweetness) ☺]

(Pic of Flynn!)

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(Poppy's P.O.V.)

The man with the knife catches up with me within a minute.

Fuck, I'm a goner.

Tears prick the back of my eyes as I stare fearfully at the smiling psycho. Raising my arm, I attempt to punch him in the jaw but he catches my wrist and snaps it.

I scream in agony, then he quickly clamps his sweaty hand over my mouth. I feel my bones crack and pain shoot up my arm when he twists my already broken wrist with his other hand.

"Fuck!" I cry as he drops my arm momentarily.

The man holds his knife near my throat, the cold blade sending shivers down my spine, and his vulgar face hovers near mine. I squeeze my eyes shut and he rasps, "Would you like to die, princess?"

What's with the rapists and the nickname 'princess'?

"No!" I spit at his face, "Not by your hand, bastard."

Drawing my knee up, I nail him in the groin and force him away for a while. He doubles over in pain but soon charges after me.

A few heartbeats later, I am locked in his grip and screaming into his filthy palm.

No one can hear me.

Tears keep gushing from my eyes - I swear I have never cried so hard before.

I will be dead.

Scott, think of Scott.

The psycho whispers to my ear, "You will die, princess. But you won't die a virgin."

How the hell does he know I'm a virgin?

I am going to be raped. This horrifying realization hit me like a truck.

I struggle again, trying by all means to throw him off me or - like how it's done in action movies - bang his torso against the wall.

This is the moment when I realize that it is unrealistic because even though I am almost as tall as him - I am much weaker in strength.

His hand gropes along my waist and finds its way towards my chest. Fuck.

I let out a bloodcurling scream - which is once again muffled by his hand.

Sobbing in fear and pain, I wait for the terrible consequence...when the man's weight is lifted from me and disappeared. I stumble and fall onto the ground.

Blinking my tears away, I see the blurred scenes of a tall, muscular guy engaged in a close fight with the rapist.

Flashes of the rapist's knife is the only thing I can see in the darkness.

The two silhouettes collide and one is thrown onto the ground.

I scream as the knife slashes flesh.

I hear faint, incoherent speaking from the one on top and soon after, the man on the ground flees as the former lets him go.

Oh no.

"Please...no," I whimper and shake my head when the man remaining walks over to me. I am half-lying on the ground, my back leaning against the wall of the alley.

He comes closer to view and his features become a little clearer.

We both gasp.

"Poppy?"

"Flynn!"

We exclaim simultaneously.

He crushes me into a hug and I sob uncontrollably into his shoulder, my tears soaking his shirt, "I," I say between gasps, "Have never been happier to see someone I know."

Flynn's firm arms hold me securely and he rubs my back soothingly, "Sh, you're okay now, no one's going to hurt you."

"Thank you," I sniffle. The thoughts of the man almost raping me make me feel nauseous, so I decide to ignore them and relax in Flynn's embrace.

He saved me.

Flynn holds me and pats my back, waiting for me to calm down.

When I finally catch my breath, we break apart. His darkened eyes search my face anxiously, "You okay now?"

I shake my head, "I don't think I'll ever feel okay."

He growls, "That fucker deserves to die."

The ferocity and poison in his tone makes me cringe a little, then he notices and changes the subject gently, "Let's get you out of here."

Flynn reaches for my hand but I cry out, "Wrist. Broken."

"Shit," he mutters. Anger settles on his face and he snarls, "I should have broken his legs."

My mind is too addled to process the racing of my heart at his words.

Then very, very carefully, Flynn drapes my arm over his shoulder and he lifts me up - picking me up in bridal style with his hands supporting my back and the crook of my knees.

Something falls onto my arm and I see a drop of blood.

Gasping, I look up and see a long, red cut from Flynn's cheekbone to his jaw. "Flynn, you're hurt," A stray tear slides down my left eye.

"It doesn't matter," he replies simply.

The last thing I felt before I gave into unconciousness was his taut, hard muscles.

Thank god Flynn showed up.

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