* @andagony ♡ s.c.
FINGERS CURLED ROUND THE HANDLE OF A BLADE. hand buried deep within a jacket pocket. alert, determined, knapsack of things she’d needed or wanted placed deftly onto her back. there was nothing to fear so long as she kept her wits about her -- so long as she remembered to always stay one step ahead of every being she could get eyes on. it was the ones she couldn’t see that allison worried about most. lurking in shadows, just out of her line of sight. but there had been enough peace. enough silence that she hadn’t seen fit to worry as she approached her car, san francisco had seemed decent enough for now. until the crunch of gravel under feet that weren’t her own catches her ear.
it’s a force of habit that has her drawing the knife from her pocket, wielded out, unafraid of the option of putting it to more use as she spins around. ❛ DON’T COME ANY CLOSER. ❜ spoken before she can take in features, before allison recognizes still human eyes -- a flush of cheeks, not dull or drained of life -- and relaxes, albeit only slightly. there is no droop of her arm, no slip or lessening of gaze; she knows better than to assume people on the streets these days are friendly. he may not look like much of anything, may not spike a heart rate or bring a trepidation to her actions, and truly, allison’d like to believe she’s more than capable of handling this situation given how frail he seems, but she’d never underestimate a threat. not now. instead she eases back, leans a muscled frame back against the metal of her car door and arches a singular brow.
❛ DO YOU NEED SOMETHING? ❜