Lost In Your Light || P. Parker

01| Left in the Snow

The girl winced, knowing if he kicked the dog again, that it would fall past the point of regeneration. She covered her mouth as blood started to seep into the pavement, the pit bull was littered with open cuts and bruises, undoubtedly from the previous fight it had lost. 

Lelia was ready to step in, her heart hammering in her chest.

But the man seemed to be finished, satisfied with the damage he inflicted on the already helpless creature. He tossed his beer bottle into a pile of snow, turning on his heels. He walked towards her, flexing his hand. She could see it was already bruising.

She moved backwards into the darkness, not wanting to be seen.

Unfortunately for Lelia, she wasn't aware of the snow bank behind her. Lelia's heel crunched loudly as her weight shifted. She swallowed hard after the man's footsteps halted.

"Who's there?" He grunted, the tone in his voice hinting at his intoxication. She clenched her fists, hoping she would stand a chance against him. Usually, she was able to avoid this kind of confrontation, but tonight something seemed off, it was far more urgent than anything she had experienced. 

Her eyes widened as he turned the corner, becoming visible under the lamplight. From that angle, she was completely exposed. She cursed under her breath, there was no use hiding anymore.

Lelia walked out from the shadows, trying to keep her cool and remind herself there was a life on the line. She could not wait around for the dog to die. 

"Who the hell are you?" He scoffed, expression displaying disgust. His eyes narrowed at Lelia as she moved farther into the alleyway, closer to him. "Were you watching me?"

"Don't mind me." She pleaded, pulling up her hood to cover her face. "I wont tell anyone, just keep walking."

But fate had other plans. She knew she was asking too much of a criminal, for their code was unbreakable. He was part of a world she was lucky enough to personally avoid. 

The man advanced quickly, and Lelia barely dodged his grip. She backed up in surprise, holding her stance with shaking legs. She was the least bit confident in her combat skills, only able to train herself in situations where her life depended on it. 

"Don't touch me!" She managed to hiss, eyes frantic and unprepared. 

The stranger looked at her menacingly. She could tell he didn't like to be ordered around by a younger female.

"You shouldn't be in this part of town." He said through a moment of clarity, through his drunken haze. But then his eyes glanced lower, a smirk appearing on his face shortly after the sentence was uttered. He rolled up his sweatshirt sleeves, trying to intimidate her. This was his territory and he would have his way if she dared to step closer. 

Lelia's adrenaline started to pump wildly, she was frightened beyond belief. "Stay away..." She warned one last time, planting her feet down, ready for any punch he was about to throw at her. Lelia may not be good in combat, but she knew enough to defend herself. Wandering around New York this late at night, she was bound to run into people like him. She would be an idiot to not be prepared.

If anything, she had a knife in her pocket. If anything. 

But of course, he didn't listen, and instead, flung his fist directly at her face.

She ducked miraculously, watching him stumble to the side from his drunkenness. She used the split second of exposure to uppercut his jaw.

His head jerked back, and he crumpled to the ground. The stranger groaned loudly, his jaw knocked out of place. Rolling onto his back, he cursed at her, wanting to get up but unable too.