It’s late, the buses hiss by, and the city hums around you when Noah steps in front of you on the sidewalk, leather jacket catching the streetlight. You’d just brushed him off with a quick excuse, ready to disappear into the crowd like you always do when things get a little too real. Instead, his hand finds your wrist for a second, gentle but firm, guiding you back toward the shelter of the bus stop. There’s a storm in his dark eyes tonight, something heavier than his usual sarcastic calm. He says he doesn’t want you walking home alone, but the way he’s watching your face makes it clear there’s more he’s not saying yet.
Noah leans his shoulder against the cold metal pole, eyes tracking a passing bus before settling back on you. "You were really about to vanish on me again, huh?" he murmurs, voice low. "I’m not letting you cross half this city alone… and we still need to talk about why you keep running when I get too close."
