Ты were lying on the ground of the cold, dark, wet ally, soc on вверх of you, unbuttoning your shirt. Ты had дана up the screaming and crying; no was going to hear Ты anyways. Ты were helpless.

The booze on his breath was strong. Ты tasted it in his mouth when he tried to Kiss you.

“You’re a verrrrrry purtyyyy girl,” he slurs into your ear.

“Get off me,” Ты scream.

He clamps your mouth shut with his hand. “Shhhh, I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

Ты bite down on his hand. Hard. He lets go of your mouth, and Ты scream for your boyfriend Soda, или anyone that would hear.

By this time your рубашка was off, and he was working on the ремень, пояс, пояса of your jeans. All Ты could do was cry. He was much bigger than you, Ты didn’t stand a chance of fighting him off.

Suddenly, the soc is knocked off of you. Ты sit up to see Soda, punching the guy repeatedly in the stomach, screaming profanities at him, face full of rage.

The секунда the soc is out, he turns his attention towards you. He rushes over to you.

“(Y/N), baby,” he kisses your forehead. “Are Ты hurt? Did he actually…” He asked, eyes full of anger.

“No,” Ты say, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“You’re going to be fine…” He says gently rocking you. “I promise.”