Rescue: A Nameless: the One Thing You Must Recall fic
((Cheritz games are favorites of mine, especially Nameless and Dandelion. I had to write something. Originals belong to Cheritz.))
Eri was taking a shortcut through the alley when they grabbed her. Two thugs slammed her, dazed as she already was, against the brick wall, breath hot on her cheeks and slurred words nonsensicle in her ears. She tried to hunch away, to blend into the wall, but they held her fast, eyes bright with malice. She tried to scream, but no sound came out.
“What are you doing to my honey?” a dulcet voice demanded, dripping condescension, and a moment later, a tall man appeared out of the shadows at the far end of the alley. He was dressed in a well-cut, expensive looking dark suit and a pair of equally expensive sun-glasses. He practically bled sophistication out of every pore, and the single piercing in his left ear and the two short braids arching above it only seemed to add to the effect.
Eri gasped his name, and a strange look flickered across the dark-haired man’s face, a mixture both of relief and worry. The two thugs frowned, and the one not holding onto Eri took a step toward the stranger.
“None of your business, city-boy.”
Eri’s stranger might be all dolled up and reeking of expensive colognes and hair gel, but he was taller than either of Eri’s attackers, and it was obvious to anyone who really bothered to look that the fine cut of his suit hid muscle.
“You really think so?” he asked, still disdainful. “I think,” he was shedding his suit jacket as he spoke, “That anything that happens to my honey is my business.” Draping the jacket elegantly over one arm, he began to roll up the sleeves of his white button-down, the movements of his fingers as sharp and efficient as those of a spider.
“Oh, are you gonna fight us, pretty boy?” the man who held Eri sneered, and Eri repeated the stranger’s name, louder this time.
The dark-haired man smiled slightly, and tilted his head just enough for her to see his frost-colored eyes over the tops of his tinted lenses. His voice dropped to a purr, low and seductive and dangerous.
“Close your eyes, princess.”
For a moment, she just met his eyes, tears in her gold ones. Then her chin dropped slightly in a tiny nod, and squeezed her eyes closed.
Yuri moved faster than any man carrying that much height and muscle had any right to be able to move. In a total of three seconds, he’d crossed the alley, and tossed the first of the thugs over his shoulder to land on the pavement with a sickening crunch. One more long stride and he seized the man holding Eri by the collar and jerked him upward. The man yelped, releasing Eri in shock as his feet left the ground, dangling six inches off the pavement thanks to Yuri’s rather impressive height. Eri slid down the wall to the ground, eyes still tight shut.
The second man landed beside his comrade with an equally satisfying thud, and Yuri took up a stance in front of Eri looking almost as suave as when the fight had begun, save that his hair was ruffled by the speed of his movement and his jacket had fallen to the ground when first he moved. He glared down at the men from behind his sunglasses, arms crossed loosely in a manner that said he would deal with them again if he had to, but that he didn’t expect them to be that stupid. He was right. The moment both of them managed to regain their feet, they ran, footsteps pounding unsteadily against the pavement.
Yuri turned his attention to Eri the moment they’d gone, sinking to a crouch in front of her. She was huddled against the wall, knees drawn up and tears streaming from still-closed eyes. He reached out gently and asked, voice silk-soft,
She opened her eyes and shook her head, a small, jerky motion. He didn’t seem to believe her, and moved his hand to cup her chin instead, tilting her head slightly to the side as his other hand reached to flip his sunglasses up onto the top of his head. The faint moonlight filtering through the clouds illuminated the faint purple bruises blossoming into existence on her pale skin in the place where her neck and shoulder met, where the men had first grabbed her. Yuri’s lips pressed into a thin, unhappy line.
“Oh, honey,” he whispered, his voice softening further. “I’m sorry.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, and she reached up to pat his shoulder, shivering slightly from a mixture of the cold of the night and adrenaline.
“N-not your fault.” She stuttered, and his frown deepened. Carefully, he pulled away, rising briefly to retrieve his jacket, then returned to wrap it around her, pulling it tight around her shoulders.
“We should get you home.” He told her quietly, “Everyone’s been worried.” He didn’t ask if she could stand, just picked her up, cradling her in his arms like the princess he’d called her. Usually, she would have protested, but now she seemed too shaken to do so, and instead she just wrapped her arms around his neck and looked up at his face.
“Your hair is messed up.” She told him, almost timidly, and he smiled.
“Nothing a long bath won’t fix.” He said, almost teasing, and the corner of her mouth twitched as she rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes again, letting his scent and the warmth of him drive away her fear.
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