Hey, to anyone who's going to read this! Thanks for reading, first of all! Reviews are always welcomed :)! This is my second story, so I hope everyone likes it! It's going to follow pretty close to the series! I love BBC, but, sadly, I don't own any of the characters except my two OC's!
Will You Tolerate This? PART I
Running. Always running. Why can't I ever catch a break? Rest, have some good food? Because I was an outlaw; well, sort of. Long story. Too long to explain right now. Doesn't really matter anyways. None of it does. Doesn't matter that my knuckles are white from clutching the scroll so tightly. Doesn't matter that I disgraced my mother and most of my family on her side. I didn't much like them anyway. Who cares about being in a position of power anyhow? I sure don't. It's much better being a thief and a liar; there's less rules, less politics. More freedom. That was what I wanted more than anything else in the whole world. Freedom. It's the unspoken truth about all outlaws. They all crave freedom. That's why their outlaws, after all. Yet, here I am, risking my life for a piece of paper that's important to someone else. And for what? A bag of cash. Money. I hate money; it turns the best men into whimpering fools.
"Clara, they're gaining on us!" I was brought back to reality by my sisters shout. I risked a glance back; the sheriff's men were, indeed, gaining on us. I redirected my attention to the upcoming fork in the road.
"Split up, meet at the inn on the corner of Pitt's street at seven. In Nottingham." I added as an afterthought and my sister shot me the 'I'm not stupid' look. I grinned and shook my head at her hotheadedness. Although hothead was rather fitting due to her fiery red hair that fell in perfect waves and was cut off around her shoulders due to a unexpected haircut by Sir Guy of Gisborne. It had only been two weeks so the hair hadn't really started to grow back yet. I got lucky that time and managed to escape.
On the outside, my sister was perfect. Flawless, even. She had flawless pale skin with a small nose and big forest green eyes that were highlighted by her perfectly sculpted brown eyebrows. Her high cheekbones and full pink lips just topped off her perfection. Back home, suitors would fall over each other for her, but she'd have none of them. Because inside, she was almost too much like mother. She was defiant and traitorous if it meant saving her own skin. She was a lot of fun to be around and laugh with, but under fear or pressure; she could turn on you. In one word, cowardly. It was just one of the ways we were different. My sister liked to say I had a hero complex. I could never leave anyone in trouble or in fear. Well, I could, and I have countless times before, but I hated myself for days after I did it.
We did share the same forest green eyes, though. Although my mother used to like hers better. She said mine held too much compassion whereas my sisters were colder. Funny though, I was always the clever one. When we were in a situation, I was the one that got us out alive. I could never figure out why my mother liked my sister better. In my eyes I was just as pretty, though maybe a little less exotic. My brown hair flowed in waves to my mid back and always seemed to be windblown (probably due to all the running I do). We shared the same sculpted brown eyebrows and small nose, though hers was a bit bigger than mine. I was a tad tanner than her and my cheeks were a bit less flushed. We shared the same full pink lips, high cheekbones and flawless skin. I was kinder than my sister, not by much I'll give you, but kinder none the less. I've done things I'm not proud of, but who hasn't? Besides, it's not like suitors weren't fawning over me. Granted, I turned them all away as well. I do share my sisters fiery personality. That runs in the family.
"Clare!" She hissed and I was once again snapped out of my thoughts. We had reached the fork in the road. Without hesitating, I ran left and she ran right. My road was rather bumpy and overgrown with bushes and branches. With a grace that one can only get by pickpocketing and thieving for five years, I avoided all possible twisted ankles. I pushed myself harder and ran faster, knowing the horses might have a tough time with the roots jutting out from the ground. I needed to find a safe hiding place for the scroll incase I was caught. My eye caught a nearby tree with a small opening at it's roots. I stopped only long enough to stuff the scroll and my bag in it and hide them both from view before I started running again.
I contemplated drawing my bow but then decided against it. It would only slow me down and besides the horses were only thirteen meters or so behind me. I could hear the men yelling at me to stop, but the sound of the twang of the bow releasing an arrow was worse. I ducked and the arrow whizzed past my right ear. To my horror, I saw the road cut off into a cliff. I did a quick mental calculation in my mind. If I jumped from most of the cliffs in Sherwood forest I would survive, but what if this was one of the few that I would die. The hoofs were thundering yards from me. I made a split second decision. Sending a quick prayer to God, I jumped.
My terrifying cliff turned out to be a full six meters. Scary, I know. I ended up in a murky pond. I quickly dove under the water, trying to hide in it's dark depths. My lungs were burning and I knew I didn't have much air left. I had to surface lest I kill myself. I internally groaned and silently kicked my way to the surface. As soon as my head was above water, I felt a hand grasp my hair and drag me onto land.
"We've got her, Sir!" One of the guards reported as the others parted for Sir Guy to make his way to me. I didn't even bother to try to look presentable; I just lay there gasping like a fish out of water. At least I wasn't wearing one of those wretched corsets. Instead I was dressed in a delightful cross between mens garments and women's garments. I wore black pants that hugged my legs and a light blue puffy shirt. I wore a black corset like item around my stomach. By far my favorite item of clothing were my black, knee high boots. I had a secret supply of arrows strapped to the side of my right boot, seeing as I was right handed. My bow was strapped in my left boot. My bow was specially made so that it could fold in on itself, making it no bigger than a foot or as big as a normal bow. It was specially made. A birthday gift from my father, in fact. Surprisingly, although I am good with the bow, it is not the weapon I would choose for myself if it came down to a fight. I am too in love with the double swords. I am ambidextrous. My parents were the highest of lords, so I was given all the finest weapons. My two swords are halves to a hole sword. It was as if someone took a very thick sword and sliced in in half. The really convenient part of it was that it fit into one slightly larger than normal, leather sword sheath that was currently strapped to my back.
Sir Guy loomed over me condescendingly, as if I wasn't worth a second of his oh so precious time. I looked at him blankly, carefully controlling my anger. My gaze swept across the guards who all had there swords at my throat.
"Fancy a swim, Gents?" I asked with a cocky grin. And was promptly yanked up by my hair, handcuffed, and thrown in a cage in the back of a cart. A cover was thrown over me.
"Wait! Where am I going?" I yelled at them, feigning fear. I knew exactly where I was going, but any little piece of information would help.
"Don't worry. We're gonna reunite you with your little friend." I closed my eyes and slumped against the bars of my temporary cell in defeat. They caught her. Damn it. Oh well. It's easier to escape somewhere if your already inside. On the other hand I hate going to the dungeons they always smell so musty and dingy. I gave an involuntary shudder followed almost immediately by a mental scolding. Why was I so on edge all of a sudden? I couldn't really help it though. I keep having this weird feeling something is about to happen. Something big. That coupled with the weird dreams I've been having about running threw the forest. Always the same dream. I have this necklace on; it sort of looks like a piece of bark with carvings in it. Sometimes I'm fingering it, deep in thought, about what I do not know. I sighed. Whatever, just stupid dreams.
We arrived at the castle too soon for my tastes. I was briefly dragged in front of the sherif, an ugly, bald guy just long enough for him to say 'hang her' and wave his hand dismissively in my direction causing my blood to boil in anger.
"Here we are, Miss." I let out a cruel laugh at the guards manners. He looked at me confusedly and I could almost feel Gisborne rolling his eyes behind us. We stood in a room with cells to every side of us forming a half octagon, leaving room for the door of course. There was a tortured scream from somewhere to my right. Inside I cringed, but I held my face impassive.
"Is that going to go on all night? Because I don't think I could get any sleep if he keeps that up." I informed both guards and Gisborne. I think I saw a flicker of disbelief in the guard's eyes, but it was gone quickly. The scream was cut off and a man was dragged out of the room barely conscious. He looked to be in his late fifties and missing quite a few teeth. I felt pity, but again refused to show any emotion. I looked up at the guard to my left. "Shoot me, but I think that guy might need urgent medical help." I announced as he was dragged into his cell. "And maybe a psychiatrist too." I muttered. I heard sniggering from some of the cells. I looked at my fellow prisoners. In the cell all the way to the left there was the old man I'd just seen. The cell next to him contained three boys. Two of them were brothers, I would guess. From Locksley by the looks of them. The other one, I would think was also from Locksley, but he didn't seem to share the brotherly connection that the younger and older boy had. I guessed I would go in the empty cell next to them. And last but not least, the cell to the right contained a man that looked to be around my age. He had short, messy dirty blonde hair from what I could see. He stood about three inches taller than me and was dressed in outlaw getup. I immediately identified him as a thief and a liar. Even though a shadow covered most of his face, I could tell he was roguishly handsome in a sort of annoying way. I blinked those thoughts away and focused on the rest of the room.
I was briefly searched for weapons and I saw the surprise as my twin daggers were found stuffed up my sleeves. They were removed along with their scabbards. They started laughing when they looked at my tiny bow I just cocked my head to the side and regarded them, making them a bit uncomfortable. Their laughter turned into nervous coughing and then stopped. They took my arrows and my twin swords and scabbard off my back. I felt oddly light without my weapons.
Taking my attention away from the guards, I immediately noticed a drainage in the middle of the room. Making a mental note of the possible escape route, I continued to survey the dingy room. No other way out except for the door and fat chance I was going to have with that. Sewer pipe it is then. I wrinkled my nose. I hate when we take the sewage exits. We always smell so bad afterward and we never have time for a bath. Great. Today is just going to be one of those days.
"So, which one of these hellholes are you so benevolently renting to me for the night?" I asked with false cheerfulness. I was promptly cuffed in the back of the head by Gisborne and the guards walked me to my cell.
"Here we are, ma'am." I looked up at the guard's handsome blue eyes and fluttered my own eyes.
"Are you this nice to all the condemned or am I special?" I asked coyly. Even through the helmet I saw his cheeks go red. I heard someone laugh and realized it was the boy on the right. The one who's face I still cannot see. I was grabbed by the hair and thrown into the cell. I promptly rushed up and to the cell door but it was slammed in my face. "Oi! Watch the hair! My mom did it special for my date with the gallows!" I called after them. "Assholes." I muttered. I was just starting to move away from the cell door when Gisborne came storming back and grabbed me by the throat, lifting me clean off the ground. I grabbed his wrist, trying to take some of the strain off my neck. He was breathing hard in anger.
"Are you going to kill me?" I asked with a strangled laugh. I was throw backward as he released me and landed rather roughly on my back. I groaned as I rolled upward so I was sitting on my butt.
"No, the gallows will take care of that at dawn when you dangle." Gisborne said with a cruel laugh. I let out a cruel laugh of my own.
"Looking forward to it." I grinned, ignoring all the disbelieving stares of my fellow condemned. Gisborne paused at the top of the steps.
"You know, the deepest circles of hell are reserved for traitors and murderers." He told me before opening the door.
"I'll see you there, then!" I called after him.
As soon as the door slammed shut though, I lost my cool. I slammed both hands into the metal bars, not caring about the sharp pain that ran through my wrist and up my arm. I leaned up against the bars and slid down until I was sitting on the hard stone floor with my back pressed uncomfortably against the bars. This is how my prison escapes usually go. First, I get angry and that helps me formulate a plan. I already had half an idea, so that was something.
"There is a man. My dad said he'll get us out of our punishment, and he might be able to rescue you as well." I looked up to see one of the brothers speaking. It was the younger brother. He was boyishly handsome, but he couldn't have been older than eighteen. He had brown hair and dark eyes accompanied by dark eyebrows. His hair was raggedly so it fell to his eyebrows but was overall shortish. He wore peasants clothes, that is, a simple brown, baggy, long sleeved shirt, baggy pants, and busted up shoes. A ghost of a smile touched my lips at his hopeful look.
"And, tell me, does this hero have a name?" I asked, quirking my eyebrow.
"Robin of Locksley they call him. He's the lord of Locksley." Both my eyebrows rose in surprise at this.
"He's from the Holy Land, then? That's interesting, very interesting, in fact." I said, staring in the direction Gisborne had left. So that was why he was so angry as of late. Marian. I shook my head so as to clear my thoughts. "And what would your name be?" I asked him, changing the subject.
"Luke. Luke Scarlet. This is my brother Will Scarlet. We're from Locksley." I nodded thoughtfully.
"You Dan's kids?" I asked and the boy nodded.
"You know my father?"
"I met him once. Long time ago. I doubt he remembers me." I said, shaking my head. I hope he doesn't. The meeting wasn't exactly on the best of circumstances.
"I think he will. You look like a person that would be rather hard to forget." I looked up as Luke's face flushed. I hadn't pinned him as a person who readily spoke his mind. His brother looked mildly surprised as well. I was silent for a moment before laughing and pulling myself up from the ground. I liked this kid.
"Thank you, Luke Scarlet." I said, grinning. There was a moment of silence before I decided to break it. "So, what's a charming boy like you doing in a prison cell?" His face went red again and I laughed.
"Me and my brother, we stole some bread from the bakery." He told me, and I felt my heart squeeze. The dangle for a couple loaves of bread? That didn't seem fair. Then again life is always so much fairer. Note the sarcasm. "We're terribly sorry! We were so hungry! And our father's hand!" I realized he had mistook my scowl to be directed at him.
"I would have probably done the same thing." I wouldn't have gotten caught, but I wasn't about to tell him that. "What happened to your father's hand?" I asked suddenly, intrigued.
"Well a few years ago my brother and I stole some flour and back then you would have your hand cut off, but instead of taking the punishment ourselves, -" He seemed to get a little chocked up.
"You're dad took it for you." I finished for him and he nodded.
"Well, Nottingham sounds like a wonderful place. First impressions are everything, you know." I told him, glancing around my musty cell. "What about your friend there." I asked, nodding at the third boy in the cell. What can I say? I'm a curious person.
"His name's Benedict. He got caught for stealing flour." Benedict had dirty blonde hair and was taller than Luke by only a few inches. I had already discerned that Luke was hopeful and was talking to try to calm himself down whereas his brother, Will, was more of a silent one, but his eyes held so much anger that I found it hard to look at them for long periods of time. I could tell he was getting a bit annoyed with our conversation.
"Flour. Of course. Great. Right." I said, nodding and trying to hold in my next question. I succeeded… for a few seconds. "Why are you in prison for stealing flour? Shouldn't you be flogged and be done with it?" He shrugged.
"I do not know. They don't really tell us anything." He gave a half smile that was filled with worry. I gave him a genuine smile. I was silent for a few moments.
"I have a feeling everything's going to work out fine." It wasn't exactly a lie. I did have a feeling everything was going to work out. The guy on my right gave a snort of disbelief.
"Look, I'm not being funny, but a girl having a feeling everything's going to be fine isn't very comforting." I turned my head to look at the man to my left.
"Good thing I'm not any ordinary girl then." I said, grinning. It was then that the door flew open with a bang and in stormed a guard with an awkward little man at his side. He unlocked Luke's cell. I craned my neck to catch a brief glimpse of Robin through the door.
"Come on you lot, someone wants to see you." He started dragging away Luke, Will, and Benedict.
"Wait! I'm from Locksley too!" I called out. My call was taken up by the man to my left. Maybe that's what I should call him now. Lefty. I almost laughed out loud at the thought.
"Jailer? Jailer that's me! Jailer, aren't you listening? I'm from Locksley! Jailer! I'm from Locksley!" The jailer slammed the door on our shouts. I looked sideways at the man next to me.
"What's your name, anyway?" I asked curiously. He gave me a crooked grin.
"Allan-A-Dale" He said proudly, as if his name was of high importance. Unfortunately, I knew that name. A-Dale. I'd run into that name before and it hadn't really gone his way. He ended up stealing from me and when I'd found out I tracked him down and took practically everything he had except the clothes on his back. But this wasn't the same A-Dale; it couldn't be. He would've recognized me instantly. We did spend almost a week as partners.
"Allan. You Tom's brother?" I saw his shoulder's stiffen slightly. He was on rough ground with his brother. I wouldn't be surprised if Tom had stolen from him while he was sleeping.
"No. Not again. Tom-A-Dale is not my brother. We don't even look anything alike, but don't worry, everyone makes that mistake." I smirked at him.
"Let's not lie to each other, Allan. After all, first impressions are everything, right? And while we're at first impressions could you please step out of the shadows so I can see your face?" It was my little trick of getting people to do what I wanted. I called them out on a lie or told them something about themselves that they were surprised I knew and right after that I would make a demand or suggestion. It usually worked. He stepped forward and the sun caught his face. He had really clear blue eyes that held amusement and laughter, but under all of that he was troubled but determined. He had a rather big nose and a slight beard and mustache.
"How did you know I was lying?" Before I could answer the jailer dragged Luke, Will, and Benedict back in, all three looking more terrified than when they'd left.
"I'm from Locksley!" Allan and I took up our shouts again. The jailer started unlocking Allan's cell.
"What about me? I'm from Locksley! Jailer, please!" I called.
"No. Sir Gisborne has ordered no one to speak with you before you dangle!" The jailer snapped at me. My heart sunk. Allan's cell was unlocked but I lunged forward before he could leave and grabbed his wrist through the bars.
"Mention my name. Clara. Clara-"
"Get back you!" The jailer yelled at me reaching through the bars to deal a blow to my wrist. I let go before the blow landed, leaving the jailer unbalanced. I grabbed his sleeve and slammed him against the bars to Allan's cell. He wrenched his sleeve out of my grasp, but I was already diving for his leg. My arms wrapped around his leg and I forced tears to come to my eyes.
"Please, sir! You can't just leave me here! Please I'm too young! I'll do anything! Please, I can't die." Tears were now running down my cheek as I tugged at his shirt. What he didn't see was my nimble fingers that undid the key from his belt loop and dropped it down the sleeve of my shirt. He kicked my hands away and I cried out in pain and curled up on the ground, rocking back and forth with my head buried in my knees making sobbing noises while trying to hide a grin.
As soon as I heard the door shut, I stood up and brushed myself off, the tears gone. I rushed over to where Will, Luke, and Benedict were staring at me in surprise.
"What did he say?" I asked urgently. All of them just stood there. I focused on Will, who looked to be the oldest. "I need to know. What did Robin say?"
"We're due to hang tomorrow." Will spoke hoarsely. I gazed at them all, memorizing how they handled the knowledge, deducing them. Luke and Benedict showed fear, a lot of fear. They were terrified. Will, on the other hand, showed determination. His jaw was set in a hard line and his eyes were firm with anger and although there was fear in his eyes it wasn't as overwhelming as Luke's or Benedict's.
"Is he going to get you out?" I asked trying to keep the hope from my voice.
"Of course. Dad said he would, so he will." Luke spoke, trying to sound brave, but his voice wavered. Behind him, Will looked sadly at me and shook his head slightly. I nodded back, matching his sadness. Luke glanced between the two of us and opened his mouth, but there was the muffled sound of an argument and the turning of a key in the lock. I rushed back to sit down and went back to my sobbing and rocking. The door opened and the jailer led a very noisy Allan back to his cell.
"Did I say Locksley? I meant Rochdale! I'm from Rochdale! That's why they call me Allan-A-Dale!" His cell door was slammed shut and he gripped the bars. The jailer left in a hurry, probably not wanting to hear anymore of Allan's protests. As soon as the door closed I leapt up in anger.
"The bloody, no good, lying scumbag." I slammed my hands against the bars again. I brought my hands to my mouth and coughed, meanwhile stuffing the key under my tongue. It took everything I had not to spit the disgusting, dirty key back out. How did he open the door to Allan's cell if I had the key? Well, that was why I was so mad. I only managed to nab the key to my handcuffs, not the door. I'd have to pick that lock. I'd say I have about an hour until he realizes one of the prisoners stole his key. I smiled at the idea of him freaking out.
"You're pretty good," Allan said, grinning. I just started to smile at him when he added, "for a woman." I scowled darkly at him.
"And you're not as good as you're brother said you were." I shot back, angrily, immediately regretting the low blow. He glared daggers at me.
"My brother would never say that about me. Just proves you've never met him."
"Well, at least now you're admitting you have a brother. We're making progress." I snapped at him. Before he could reply, the door to the dungeons swung open again and in walked Sir Guy, dragging none other than my sister behind him. I glanced outside. It was getting dark, probably around eleven o'clock. I thanked the Lord she was here so we could make our escape soon.
My sister was thrown into my cell and she scrambled up quickly and ran towards the already locked door.
"See you at the dangle!" Gisborne called down with a smirk.
"You think you can scare me with death?" She let out a sarcastic laugh. "I'm not scared of dying!" She called after him. The door slammed shut in response. She whirled around to face me, eyes wide with terror while I calmly regarded her. "I'm terrified of dying. Oh my gosh! We're going to die, it's actually happening. In a couple hours we are going to be hanging from a rope, suspended in midair for all of Nottingham to see while the life drains out of us and all that's left of us is our cold, dead-"
I slapped her right across the face. Her face snapped sideways and she slowly turned to face me again, the fear replaced by a certain rage. "Pull yourself together." She glared daggers at me. "Don't make me knock you out." I threatened. I glared back at her and finally she let out a huff of frustration and went to sit on a bench with her back to Luke's cell.
Thirty minutes later people started to fall asleep instead of conversing like we had been. Victoria was leaned up against Luke's back in between the bars and they talked in low voices, occasionally laughing. I sat by Allan's cell while he told me about how he was nearly saved by Robin Hood for hunting the small deer on the King's land, but how Much had ruined it. I laughed and in return told him about how his brother tried to steal from me and he was the one laughing.
"Did you really steal his water flask too?" Allan asked and I could practically hear the grin in his words.
"Everything. What can I say? He deserved it." I told him laughing.
"Yeah, he did. We used to travel together, but in the middle of the night he stole my money, my sword and my horse. Everything, gone. I'm not being funny, but next time I see him I'm going to kill him." He told me and I laughed lightly.
"No you're not."
"How do you know that?"
"Because you're brothers. And when it counts, I think you'll have each others backs." he laughed darkly.
"Maybe." I grinned.
"Definitely." Will added. He had become a bit more talkative.
"Luke, what's wrong?" Victoria asked softly. I must admit, I was a little shocked that she spoke so gently to him. Victoria rarely spoke softly to anyone unless she was threatening them.
"I still can't believe that this might be the last conversation I ever have. Just think about it." His voice wavered in fear. There was dead silence for a moment, broken by Victoria's soft laughter.
"Well then I guess we had better enjoy it. You all got out lucky. I didn't even get a last supper." She said grinning into the dark. "Haven't eaten since lunch! Lunch!" There was soft laughter at her words.
"How can you be so calm about all of this?" Luke asked her. Because she knows she's not going to die. I felt a stab of guilt knife through me, but suppressed it.
"Death is nothing to be scared about. At least you're all going to heaven." She said, her eyes downcast.
"Don't say that. I'm sure He'll forgive you for whatever you did to end up here." Luke tried to comfort her.
"What did you do anyway? You never told us, and I for one want to know." The voice of Allan spoke up.
"Well, there was a rich noble going for a ride and we were really hungry so," I shrugged, "We ambushed her and stole her money." I said, lying through my teeth. Allan let out a chuckle.
"And how did she like that?"
"Oh, I don't reckon she liked us too much considering she had to walk back to Nottingham." At this everyone laughed.
A silence fell over us and I was all too aware that the time was fast approaching that Victoria and I would have to slip away. I shared a glance with her. After a few more minutes of silence. I listened to the soft sound of Allan's breathing become regular and realized that he fell asleep. I quietly stood up and looked down at the key in my hand; I had recently 'coughed' again. I fit it into my handcuffs and turned. The cuffs snapped off with an all too audible click. I winced and quickly undid my ankle cuffs as well. Victoria gently touched my arm, letting me know where she was. I pressed the key into her palm, and quickly reached up and undid my hairpins. Using the sharp ends as lock picking devices I set to work on the door. Within a minute, the lock clicked open.
Victoria touched brushed my shoulder again to let me know she was following me. We slipped out of our cell silently. Fixing my hairpins back on my hair, I made my way to the sewer. Victoria pried it open and it made a slight groan of protest; we froze. In the extremely dim light, I could just make out her silhouette as she glanced regretfully at the cells that held our new friends. I looked at her pleadingly. She shook her head and glared at me. I glared back and backed up going to cross my arms defiantly. She stepped forward and I stepped back.
"We can't just leave them." I said in an almost silent whisper.
"Get a grip on your hero complex and let's go!" She hissed back. "Quickly, before the guards notice the key is missing." Almost as if on cue I heard a bang and a shout from upstairs by the door. I sighed in defeat, but suddenly someone grabbed my wrist. I stopped myself from crying out just in time. I whirled around to see a small strip of light lighting up Allan's blue eyes. He looked at me almost pleadingly.
"You can't leave me here. Give me the key! For my wife and children!" I glared at him and tried to tug away.
"You don't have a wife or children!" I hissed back, there was a jiggle on the door handle of the dungeons and I looked back to see Victoria half submerged into the sewer.
"I'm not letting you go until you give me the key."
"They'll beat you it they find out you have the key. They'll torture you. Allan, let me go!" I tried to reason calmly with him. I took a deep breath, knowing what I had to do. Turning fully to face him so my forest green eyes met his ocean blue ones. "Allan, I promise you I'll come back for you. I promise, but you have to let me go." Real fear flickered in his eyes as he looked at me. Finally, slowly he loosened his grip.
"Come on!" Victoria hissed. I grabbed Allan's hand and briefly squeezed it in gratitude.
"Hey!" He hissed after me as I made it to the sewer. "You better keep your word." I just winked at him before I dropped into the sewer, the hatch clicking shut behind me.
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