ɪ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀ ɢᴜɴ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ!

“Eh? Me?” Chopper stared at the gangster with a frown on his face, stepping back as he frowned a bit.

                  ❝ It talks... ? ❞ 

A cautious half step is taken backward, though ( despite how much he wants to ) he doesn’t run away just yet.

                        ❝ Um—-  ❞

The object in the girl’s arms was regarded briefly before his gaze lifted to meet hers.

☠ ——— There isn’t enough time for her to dodge the                    outstretched hand about to grab onto her, but she                   does manage one small step backwards before she                   feels fingers against her skin. She feels the sudden                   tug of his weight on the back of her neck, eyes widening                   in horror as she realizes.

                  It’s over in a second, all that remains as proof of the incident                   scattered across the ground around her. She remains still                    for a moment, roseate optics widened in shock, gaze fixed                    on where the stranger was just moments ago. & then it hits her. 

                  Pink pigtails swish as she spins down towards him, eyes                    burning with anger.

                  “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?!!”

All that’s left of the piece of jewelry is the broken string still draped across his open palm, & the purple beads now rolling in various directions across the floor. It takes him a moment to fully process the situation, but the moment realization sets in his expression contorts with panic. Brown hues immediately turn glossy as tears swell in his eyes, & quickly he dives toward the floor, trying to salvage what he can of the beads. 

               ❝ S-s-ssorryy. I’m s-so sorry !! ❞

He repeatedly babbles apologies as he frantically collects the beads, pausing only to wipe the tears that are now flowing heavily down his cheeks with the back of his hand.

📖 ——— Roseate optics widen in surprise at the scream that                     escapes the stranger’s throat, now-empty fingers still closed                     and suspended in midair. It only takes a moment to recover                     from the shock, though, pale hands lowering back to his sides                     as a slight smile crossed his lips. 

                                    [He knew something.]

                    “Ah, there’s no need for such alarm. There’s been a serious                     of explosions, you see, and I’ve heard that she happens to be                     quite educated on the subject.” With someone as reactive as this,                     he’ll be able to find the answers he needs, regardless of what this                     stranger says. “Have you seen her recently?”

The scream dies in his throat, panic fading from his expression. In its place, a certain FIRMNESS takes hold of his features.  His hands lower to his sides, still clutching the picture as his   fingers curl into fists. He straightens his shoulders just slightly, trying to prove he’s not willing to be INTIMIDATED. This  guy appears young, too young to be a police officer or anything  of the sort. Even so, he can’t drop his guard just yet. If he is   someone like that, he can’t allow his own FEAR to interfere, & potentially endanger Nice. ( Even though that fear is bubbling up in a way that makes in nearly impossible to choke down, & he wants nothing more than to cry. )

                     ❝ I don’t know anything about it... Though,                                   even if I did, why are you asking ? Sorry if                                   it sounds rude, but—- you look too young to                                   be a police officer. ❞

He speaks with a carefully measured calmness.

“And I’m not in a gang.” Also false. “It wasn’t that bad – I’m sure your friends are totally fine; the thugs in this city really aren’t that dangerous…”

Maybe he went a bit overboard. His knuckles still throbbed where they’d connected with the thug’s face. He’d even felt the crunch of his nose beneath his fist. It wasn’t like he had wanted to hurt him, though. In fact, he hadn’t stopped crying since the encounter.

                                              ‘ A gang ? ’

It wasn’t as though he could judge. He was, after all, what most would consider a delinquent. Hastily he wiped his tears on the back of his hand. He didn’t want anymore conflict. He’d only been trying to protect his friends, & he especially didn’t want to hurt anyone else.

                              ' I-I’m not crying ! ’