Chance Encounter

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Author's Note: This is just a little oneshot that I thought I'd write for Wattpad's WattPride and #PenYourPride campaign, in which Wattpad donates a dollar to a foundation helping LGBT+ people for every story tagged with #WattPride. I decided to take part in the festivities but didn't have time or inspiration to write a proper story, so I decided to do a oneshot instead. I know it's a bit too Christmas themed for June, but to me Christmas is the most magical time of the year, and where the most romance takes place. Of course, that could just be the endless number of Christmas Hallmark movies I've watched with my mom, but oh well. I stand by my decision. Who says you can't have Christmas in June, anyway? I hope you all like it!

Asherah bundled her coat tighter around herself, so as to combat the blustery wind of another icy cold day in New York City. Lights twinkled above her head, dancing in beautiful shades of red and green. Jolly Santas in cheap, red suits danced along every street corner, some ringing bells for the Salvation Army, which added to the almost unbearable din of noise circling the frosty city. Rudolphs, holly, and mistletoe adorned every stoplight and apartment building that wasn't infested with rats yet; even the shops had already put out Christmas trees, decorated from head to toe with gaudy plastic balls and enough tinsel to make Santa want to run back to the North Pole. "The skyscrapers are the only part of this city worth looking at right now,"  Asherah scoffed to herself in disgust. The amount of enthusiasm New York put towards the holiday always irritated her.

The bustle of downtown traffic wound it's way into Asherah's ears as she hurried up the street, clutching her brown handbag to her side. While New York was a beautiful city, filled with the kind of chaos that she lived for, the crime rate had skyrocketed in recent years.

The wind was blowing furiously that day, and despite all of her efforts, Asherah's shoulder-length, straight as a pin brown hair kept blowing into her pale blue eyes. Her thick khaki pants, which she had thought would be warm enough, were quickly proving to Asherah that she had seriously underestimated the weather, or at least, the chill of those angry winds. 

"Just a little while longer," Asherah reminded herself. "Then I'll be at the library, and I can get my books for the holidays and go back home to a nice, warm fireplace." This thought gave her renewed energy, and she shouldered her way through the crowds, determined to get to the library as quickly as possible. 

"I should have drove."

No sooner than the statement had left her lips, a large hand grabbed Asherah, who was walking beside an old, beaten-down alleyway, and dragged her into the darkness. It all happened so fast that she had no chance to cry out for help, and judged by the way everyone was plowing towards their destinations as she had been doing a moment before, no one would have noticed, anyway. 

Looking around, Asherah saw that she was indeed inside a back alley of some sort. Graffiti plastered the brick and concrete walls, clad with horrible slogans that she wished she didn't have to think about. Her attention was brought back to her situation when she felt a tug on her wrist.

The hand that had gripped her tightly a moment before had now loosened its grip, though only slightly. Asherah began to fight, trying to pull her arm from the person's hold, but they were too strong. 

"You're not going anywhere," a male voice muttered, and it took Asherah a few seconds to connect the dots and realize that it must be a man holding onto her. A quick glance up the street to see if there might be help nearby made Asherah realize that they were not alone; a woman, equally as formidable-looking, was standing a few feet away, watching the scene play out.

"This will be easier if you just stop struggling," the man said in exasperation. Finally finding her voice, Asherah tried to scream, but the man clapped a beefy hand over her mouth, silencing her. "Quiet!" Tears began to form in her eyes as she realized the predicament she was in. There was absolutely no one around, other than the girl.

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