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She opens her mouth to say something else when her phone rings, loud enough to make her jump.

She fumbles with it for a second before pulling it from her pocket, groaning under her breath.

“It’s my sister.” She says, then answers. “Uh, yeah?” She bites down on her lip, and my attention fixes on the assaulted skin. “Jesus, stop shouting.” She mutters into the phone.

Even from here, I can hear the sharp edge of a voice on the other end—angry, distorted through the speaker. I shake my head, jaw tightening.

Nobody gets to shout at my girl. My girl?

…Yeah. Apparently, that’s exactly what she is.

I’m already halfway to stepping in, ready to tear the screaming bellend on the other end a new one, before I force myself to stop.

It’s not my business.

Fuck that. I’m making it my business.

I snatch the phone from her hands, about to give her sister a piece of my mind but pause when her green eyes widen slightly and she shakes her head once.

I exhale, jaw tight when her eyes start to lose all the glimmer in them and choose to cut the call instead.

“Come I’ll drive you home.” I find myself saying but having an entirely contradicting thought.

One that’s clashing with everything I’ve believed. I’m contemplating kidnapping her.

What. The. Fuck?

I’m fucking deranged and I can’t let her go. The thought alone sends everything spiralling, like the ground just dropped out from under me.

“It’s alright.” She smiles but her voice is fading. One second she’s beside me. The next she’s halfway across the bridge, and I have no memory of the steps in between.

She lifts a hand in a small wave, a faint, almost reluctant smile on her lips, and I take a step after her.

No.

She’s not leaving.

The image of my mother walking away flashes in my head, and it’s like something inside me snaps loose.

My feet move before I can think, before I can stop myself. No longer contemplating the kidnapping but acting on it.

She’s coming with me.

“Don’t leave me.” I whisper, but the wind swallows it whole.

She keeps walking. But then she pauses.

“What’s your name?” She calls out, her voice carried back to me a second too late. She’s already moving again, stepping backwards now, her eyes on me.

“Sergei!” I shout.

She scrunches her face, like she didn’t quite catch it.

“Sergei!” I yell again. “What’s your n—”

I see headlights appear behind her, forming a small halo around her.

My stomach drops and I charge towards her at an unrecognisable speed.