Roxxy walked home fast.
Andrew followed at that calm, controlled pace of his — silent, steady, inevitable.
She tried to ignore him.
Tried to pretend she was just being dramatic.
Tried to believe she wasn't slowly being wrapped in someone else's shadow.
But halfway down the street, she felt it.
A second pair of footsteps.
Not Andrew's — heavier, uneven, too close.
Roxxy stiffened.
Andrew stopped instantly.
His head turned just slightly, his posture shifting — a subtle, terrifying change, like a predator scenting another predator on his territory.
"Roxxy," he said quietly, "get behind me."
Her heart lurched. "What? Why—"
He didn't repeat it.
He didn't raise his voice.
His tone simply changed — from calm to something cold enough to freeze her blood.
"Now."
Roxxy moved without thinking, stepping behind him as a man stumbled from the edge of an alley. Tall, sweaty, eyes bloodshot — drunk or strung out or something worse.
He looked at Roxxy first.
Then at Andrew.
And he smiled.
"Pretty little thing," the man slurred. "Didn't think the night'd bless me like this."
Roxxy's stomach dropped.
Andrew didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't speak.
But the air around him changed — went sharp, electric, wrong.
The stranger stepped closer.
Andrew stepped in front of Roxxy with a slow, precise movement that felt more like a warning than a shield.
"Walk away," Andrew said.
His voice was quiet, but it wasn't human-quiet.
It was lethal-quiet.
The man laughed. "Or what? You're her boyfriend?"
"No," Andrew answered.
"Something far worse."
Roxxy felt something cold trickle down her spine.
The man grabbed Andrew's sleeve, shoving him. "Move."
Andrew didn't move.
For a long second, nothing happened.
Then it happened fast.
Andrew's hand shot forward, grabbing the man by the collar.
He slammed him against the wall with such force the impact echoed through the alley.
Roxxy gasped.
The man wheezed, choking on his breath.
Andrew leaned in, his voice low, almost gentle:
"You don't look at her."
"L–Let—" the man rasped.
"You don't speak to her."
Andrew's fingers tightened.
"You don't even think of following her."
Roxxy's breath froze.
The man clawed at Andrew's wrist, panic flooding his eyes.
Andrew didn't care.
There was no hesitation.
No mercy.
Just a cold, terrifying certainty.
"This city is full of dark corners," Andrew whispered to him. "If you follow her again, you'll disappear in one."
The man's entire body trembled.
Andrew finally released him.
The man collapsed to the ground, coughing violently before scrambling away as fast as he could on shaking legs.
He never looked back.
Roxxy pressed her hand over her mouth, shaking.
Andrew turned to her slowly.
His expression wasn't angry.
Or proud.
Or guilty.
It was calm.
Too calm.
"Roxxy," he said, voice soft again, "you're safe."
Her legs nearly gave out. "A-Andrew… you— you almost—"
"Hurt him?" Andrew stepped toward her.
"I would've killed him if he touched you."
Her breath caught.
Andrew reached out, and this time she didn't flinch.
Not because she wasn't scared.
But because fear had tangled with something heavier, something she didn't understand.
His fingers brushed her wrist lightly.
"Don't look at me like that," he murmured.
"Like what?" she whispered.
"Like I'm the danger."
"You are," she breathed.
He smiled — a slow, dark, satisfied smile.
"I know."
He took her hand, not forcefully, but with enough certainty to make her heart jolt.
"Come," he said quietly, guiding her forward.
"You shouldn't walk alone."
As they moved, Roxxy realized something horrifying:
It wasn't the stranger she'd be thinking about tonight.
It was Andrew.
And the darkness he just showed her…
…was only the beginning.