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You rushed through alleyways, diving and ducking under laundry lines and hanging signs. The sun had already gone down, and it was getting darker and darker. The slim crescent moon did little to illuminate the streets, and the stars were somehow dimmed. One shouldn’t be out this late at night, and especially not alone. Who knows what you could run into?
You nervously glanced over your shoulder, clutching your tote bag close against your chest. In a particularly dark corner, you heard a pained sigh, whispered please’s, and heavy footsteps. You froze.What could be hiding in the shadows? Despite your logic screaming at you to run away, to hurry back to the safety of your apartment, curiosity won and you took a step further. You told yourself you would just check to see if the person was okay, help if you could, then be on your way. The concrete gave way to dirt underneath your feet, worn and weathered.
You paused again, hearing the unmistakable sound of the shifting of dirt, almost like someone was trying to bury something. You shook your head as if you could shake away the hesitance and took another step forward. You begged your eyes to adjust to the dark, blindly walking through the narrow street. You stumbled then, nearly falling face-first into the dirt before you were caught by two firm hands on your shoulders.
You took a minute to right yourself, wiping the dirt off your hands and legs before looking up to see whose hands pulled you from the earth. Even in the darkness, two piercing crimson eyes met yours, seemingly glowing in the shadows.
A sharp inhale met your ears, not from you or your savior, but from somewhere behind. You leaned to the side, looking to see what could have made such a noise, but the firm hand gripped your arm once again, shifting your view back so all you saw was crimson. you were overcome with unease. The stranger before you, the unknown mystery behind him, the piles of dirt from holes dug up.
“Why were you digging?” you whispered, your voice practically giving out. “What did you bury?”
He didn’t entertain your questioning, instead muttering, “You shouldn’t be out so late, especially not here.”
Your mouth went dry, unable to respond as you watched the man before you. You weren’t going to get any answers, you realized, and you’d be lucky if you made it out alive. You swallowed. “I will not ask you where you came from. I will not ask you, neither should you.”
The man chuckled, his hands on your arms loosening slightly as he turned you around to the entrance of the alleyway. He pushed you forward, walking close behind. “Good idea, sweetie,” he whispered close to your ear as he gave you one final push forward. He remained in the alley, hiding partly in the shadows.
Now, you could make out part of his face, and your eyes wandered across it, from his striking silver hair to his sharp jawline. The harsh caw of a crow pulled you out of your trance, snapping your eyes back to his red ones.
“Better run along now, little dove. Wouldn’t want you getting into trouble.” A smirk played on his lips as you nodded wordlessly, quickly turning and rushing away.
You’d made your way through a few more alleys, almost home by now, when you heard a shriek pierce through the night air. You shuddered, your pace quickening, missing the distinct sounds of flapping wings above you. there was only one cause of the scream, you knew, and you grimaced at the thought of how those same hands had cradled you just minutes ago.
-
A few weeks later, and you’d started to believe that night in the alleyway was just a dream; you’d been pretty tired that night, after all. When you went back to the alley the next morning, there wasn’t even a speck of dirt out of place. No holes, no blood. Entirely empty, save for a single crow’s feather.
You were walking around an entirely new part of the city. You had wanted to check out a new cafe that opened recently, but now the sun was going down and you couldn’t find your way back to the main street. The backroads had a seemingly labyrinthine design, and you could have sworn you’d been on this street before.
You took a right this time, hoping that this change would lead you out, only to be greeted with a dead end. You sighed, about to turn back, when an all-too-familiar voice stopped you cold in your tracks.
“My, my. Seems a little dove’s awfully far away from home. And with a certain penchant for trouble.”
You turned then, slowly, to face the stranger. You were met immediately with the same red eyes from all those nights ago. You took in all that you couldn’t see before in the dead of night, the setting sun highlighting his moonlight-like hair and almost softening his impossibly sharp features. He wiped some lingering dirt off his gray dress shirt before taking one step towards you. He leaned down, meeting your eye level.
“A little dove should not wander into a crow’s territory.” The man smirked, gravelly voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s dangerous.”
Your breath hitched. “Crow’s territory?”
He snickered. “Yes. How about you allow this crow to escort a dove to her destination, hm? I’d hate for the dove to be trapped here.” He extended a hand, reminiscent of an invitation to a dance. You hesitantly raised your own hand, about to place it in his before you caught sight of the dried blood under his fingernails. Your hand flinched back slightly, and he watched with a single eyebrow raised as your eyes flickered over the rest of him, just barely stopping on the spots of blood on his forearm, shoulder, neck. Finally, you looked back to his eyes to find something expectant, but still almost unreadable. You opened your mouth to say something, to protest or to question, you didn’t know as you were cut off by an echoing gunshot. The man before you barely flinched, instead taking the initiative and grabbing your hand, straightening up as his engulfed yours.
“As much as I’d love to give you the chance to decide, sweetie, I’m afraid there are some bird-watchers around who are all too eager to catch a bird of prey.” You stared back at him, willing yourself to do something, anything, but he beat you to it as he softly tugged you towards him. “Come along now, little dove.”A barely perceptible nod and he was walking again, pulling you along with him.
Speeding up to match his pace, you took a moment to observe him candidly. Despite the implications that both your lives were in danger, he seemed perfectly carefree as if this were just a leisurely walk. You turned away from him then, instead nervously glancing down the many alleyways you passed. Soon, though, you felt his eyes on you in quiet observation. Unlike his other scrutinizing looks, this one did not send shivers down your spine.
“I know that look, dear,” you said softly. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a look of surprise flicker across his face. “Eyes always seeking. Was there someone that dug long ago?” When you were met with silence, you sighed, but didn’t miss the attentive look on his face. “I will not ask you why you were creeping. In some sad way, I already know.”
He grinned then, the most genuine expression you had seen on his face. Just like the tension in his body, his grip on your hand loosened. you both made your way through the streets, a mutual understanding, however minor, seeming to be reached. “It seems like the little dove I caught is wiser than she lets on,” he finally murmured.
He pulled you through just a few more streets before you were finally greeted by the sight of the main street illuminated by a streetlight. You stopped, pulling your hand from his grip to make your own way home. You barely make it two steps, however, before his hands are on you again, pulling you against his chest by your shoulders.
“Careful, sweetie. Dangers don’t disappear once you’re out in the open. They just become smarter,” he whispered against your ear. A red and black mist seemed to emanate from him, hanging in the air before snaking around the corner. A sharp cry was heard, but was quickly cut off when you flinched against the hard man behind you. A crow’s caw sounded, and the man’s hands dropped.
“Wait here.” He quickly stalked off, leaving you to glance uneasily over your shoulder. You strained your ears to listen, not daring to move but still hoping you could find out more. Though you couldn’t distinguish what he was saying, you could hear the man’s voice, cold and efficient now, followed by two near-identical voices. You listened carefully, unable to figure out what was going on by the constant shuffling.
“What kind of man have I run into?” you mumbled with another look over your shoulder.
“Well, I am a fruit vendor,” the man teased. Your head jerked back to meet his gaze.
“Somehow, I doubt that.” You raised an eyebrow.
He put a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Are you calling me a liar? You wound me, little dove.” He raised his hand, motioning to the entrance of the alley. “It's safe now. You can go.” When you made no move to leave, instead opting to stare at him, deep into his crimson eyes, a ghost of a smile made its way onto his lips. “I will not ask you where you came from. I will not ask you, neither should you.”
You smiled at that. At the fact that this complete stranger, who didn’t even know your name, would remember your words. His eyes crinkled at the sight, a genuine smile gracing his lips. You couldn’t help but admire the way a man wholly composed of sharp edges could melt into a bundle of warmth so easily.
You ducked your head, quickly stepping past him, trying to ignore that rising heat in your cheeks despite the chill in the air. You stopped briefly, noting the lack of mess along the main street. You began to walk again, but a shimmer of black caught your eye. You knelt down, balancing the crow’s feather between your fingers. you rose to your feet, tucking it into your pocket. In your observation of the street, however, you didn’t feel the pair of eyes on you, or hear the mechanical whir of metal wings.
-
A few months passed before you stopped looking for a flash of silver hair in darkened alleyways. You’d likely never see the tall man again. You knew it was better this way, safer this way, but you couldn’t help but feed into the small part of you that was disappointed. You realized, of course, this all went against any semblance of common sense you still held onto. He was dangerous after all, no matter how charming he was. And handsome. And how good he smelled, or how comfortably his hands fit onto you, or—
You shook your head a bit more aggressively than you meant to. Regardless of all the things to admire about the mystery man, you resolved, he was dangerous, and you weren’t exactly eager to feed into any cliches.
You stepped into an old bookstore, overwhelmed by the scent of ink and aged paper. Stepping through the many aisles, your eyes searched the shelves, pulling out a few books here and there. Making your way to the back of the store, you reached for a book you’d been looking for, straining to reach it on the top shelf. Despite your efforts, your fingers only grazed the bottom of the spine.
Your heels had barely hit the ground before you felt a firm hand against your waist, and another reaching for the very same book. You quickly turned your head, only to find yourself staring into striking, familiar crimson eyes.
”Need some help, little dove?” the mystery man murmured. He held out the book for you to take, and you slowly raised a hand, pausing in awe to stare at the man before you.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again, much less in daylight.” You cocked your head, looking at him curiously.
He simply shrugged. “This isn’t exactly average for me, but then again, neither is running into the same little dove twice while cleaning up.”
“The same little dove? Do you have others?”
He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “I’m afraid not. I don’t think I could handle another dove in my territory.”
Book still in your hand, you crossed your arms. “I still don’t know your name.”
“I didn’t realize you wanted to know it, sweetie.”
“Well, I’d certainly like to know whose business to look up if I’m ever in the need of some fruit.” You let out a sharp laugh. “I’d thought I had imagined you for a while. That there was no way someone like you could actually exist and talk to me.”
“Someone like me?” He raised an eyebrow quizzically.
“You have to know what I mean. You don’t seem real, but straight out of a story.” Your eyes narrowed slightly. “And don’t think I haven’t forgotten. What is your name?”
“Promise you won’t have me arrested, little dove?” You nodded, and he smiled. “Sylus.”
“Well then, Sylus.” You took a step closer to him, only inches away from his face, reveling in the near-imperceptible hitch in his breath. You smiled softly. “I will not ask you where you came from. I could not ask you, neither could you.” He seemed to relax at the echoed phrase.
His breath fanned against your lips. “I’ll keep you to that, little dove. Though are you sure you want to keep in touch with someone ‘straight out of a story,’ like me?” You noted the mischievous look in his eyes as he brought a hand up to your cheek, warm and calloused against your skin.
You huffed at his teasing before looping your arms around his neck. “Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. We should just kiss, like real people do.”