Back Alleyways (John's POV)

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I left work a bit earlier than usual, sighing and stretching after a hard day. I groaned as I saw how murky it was.

"John!" A voice called out. I turned around wildly, looking for the source of the high pitched voice.

"Hello?" I responded. I continued to walk down the sidewalk, weaving through the few pedestrians who were crazy enough to be outside.

"The alley." The voice sounded like it needed help. I quickly spotted a dark and foreboding alleyway and hustled down it. My phone was buzzing in my pocket but I ignored it. As I wandered deeper into the dank passageway I dramatically slowed my pace.

"Who's here?" I asked quietly, almost afraid to disrupt the heavy silence.

"Me." My arms were suddenly grabbed and I was propelled backwards into a brick wall. I huffed as the air left me and my wrists were grabbed in one soft hand and heaved above my head.

"What the bloody hell?" I moaned. A hand came under my chin and delicately lifted it up.

"Don't you recognize me?" The voice was amused at something. As my eyes adjusted to the dim and foggy lighting I began to be able to make out his face. His hair was slicked backward and his face was always an array of expressions. He had some stumble on his chin, though it was hard to make out in this light.

"James?" I asked, hoping against hope that I was wrong.

"Oh please, Johnny, call me Jim." He bent down so that his face was level with mine. I began to struggle.

"Let me go!" I pleaded through grinding teeth.

"Oh John. I'm not going to truly hurt you." James grinned as he leaned ever closer.

"What do you want?"

"I love the murderous spark in your eyes when you ask that." His nose was now touching mine, "I want you."

"No," I gulped, head pressed painfully into the craggy bricks, "You don't, you just want to mess with Sherlock."

"Wrong." James's brown eyes were wide and seemed to join as one from this close perspective.

"Stop." His hand pushed my wrists painfully into the brick wall above my head while his other rested on my waist.

"Don't you do this with Sherlock?" He asked slyly.

"N-no." I gulped, trying to arch my hip away from him. It was no use, my feet barely touched the ground.

"Well then it'll be our own secret little thing." He leaned in and kissed my lips. I was pinned perfectly in place and no amount of wiggling broke me away. Suddenly, a sharp pain engulfed my bottom lip and I gasped out loud. He pulled back and dropped me. I fell onto my knees and looked up at him. A bit of blood speckled his chin and he wore a menacing smile as he gazed fondly down at me.

"Bye, John." He smirked as he disappeared in the shadows. I brought a hand up to my lip and hissed at the pain. When I pulled it away I saw it was bloody. He had bitten my lip. I groaned and stood up, feeling mutilated. I zipped my coat up fully and hid my mouth in it, wanting no one to even guess at what was wrong. I scuttled home as quickly as possible as rain started to sprinkle the ground.

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