here's the full length one shot everyone! enjoy(:

Oh god... oh god oh god oh god.

Involuntarily, I shiver, goosebumps covering the skin on my arms as I continue to walk aimlessly through the streets. Why didn't I grab a jacket? A blanket? Something? Sure, I was in a rush to leave, but now I'm freezing and lost and-

God, I'm such a fucking idiot.

I grimace slightly as the thought flits through my mind. Back to cursing already, Si?

So much for quitting.

Once again, I find myself scanning the empty street that I'm stumbling down. I don't have any clue of where I am, which I can already tell will turn out badly.

My hand inches toward my back pocket where my phone sits, nearly dead and silent. A part of me aches to call Beth in the hopes that she might recognize the area if I describe it and come pick me up.

No. I don't want to bring her into this. Besides, I don't want to go home, not yet. I just don't want to be lost.

I shutter again, my lips quivering, but from the cold or my emotions I don't know.

Fuck... they're getting divorced.

I stop walking and lean over slightly, clutching my stomach and screwing my face up with pain.

Divorced. Fucking divorced.

A whimper slips through my lips, making me clench my jaw tightly to prevent another from escaping. No Sienna, stop it. Now is not the time to break down. Figure out where you are so you can get the hell outta here-

My eyes fly open at the sound of footsteps. A little ways ahead of me is a man, sauntering down the sidewalk without a care in the world. There aren't any stars out tonight, and the moon is hidden behind clouds, meaning the man's face is hidden in shadows. He's still a little ways away from me, but I can just barely make out the outline of his silhouette against the night sky, and there's... there's something hanging off his body, but from my position I can't make out what it is.

He's whistling too, but seconds later the random tune disappears. His footsteps falter, if only for a moment, before they start again, this time with a purpose. No longer is he ambling along the sidewalk without a care or worry; now, he moves towards me confidently, with a gracefulness I wouldn't expect from someone of his stature.

I shrink back slightly as he nears. Terror flashes through me, and for a moment I'm blinded by it; all I can see is an image of this man grabbing me, dragging me, stabbing me-

Why didn't I call Beth sooner?

But it's too late to dwell on my mistake, because suddenly he's standing in front of me, and I realize he isn't a man. Not really. He's a boy, a teenager, one who can't be much older than I am.

Now that we're closer, I can actually see him. The thing hanging off of him is a silk robe- one that's draped over his body, blacker than the night sky- but that's not what I notice about him.

He's fucking huge, and rather gorgeous. He must be a good head taller than me, if not more, and his muscles are bulging. The robe is undone, and his bare chest is open to the air- the cold air, might I add.

Somehow the exposure makes his chest look even broader than it is, and his arms...

Fuck, they could crush me without even trying.

His hair is light and short, but his eyes... his eyes are intense. The color is hard to distinguish in the dark- though I think they're some form of grey or blue- but even so I can see the swirling emotions in them. He's grinning too, something I notice as well, and as beautiful of a sight it is, him looking at me like that makes me nervous.

He cocks his head to the side. "You lost?"

There's a drop in my stomach, and I feel like I'm going to puke. "No." Don't let him know you're alone; don't let him know you're so hopelessly lost you wouldn't be surprised if you were in fucking Alabama.

Yet again, I try and discreetly look around. Most of the buildings here are closed or run down; I think I recognize one of the stores a little ways down the street. The sign reads Breaking Point, and the words seem familiar. Some boys in my math class might've mentioned it before.

I tear my gaze away from the building to focus on him again just as he begins to speak. "Right. You have no idea where you are, do you?"

Suddenly, I'm bristling with a mixture of anger and fear and maybe even hysteria. The exhaustion I felt over battling with my emotions is momentarily washed away, and I step towards him, my eyes narrowed into slits. "Listen here you little shit-"

He throws his head back and laughs. "Feisty much? Chill out Princess, I didn't mean to insult you." He nearly cooed, his voice all warm and low and sexy and... and fuck don't pay attention to his voice!

I open my mouth to reply, but for some reason no words come out. He watches me for a moment, before his gaze breaks away from mine and scans the length of my body slowly, lingering for half a second longer on my chest. 

During this time, I find myself looking at him yet again. All his attributes- his sharp jawline, high cheekbones and pursed lips- make my face heat up, and I look away. Still, I can't help but notice once again that his chest is practically out in the open. The robe doesn't look like it provides much warmth, and even though he doesn't seem too bothered by the cold, he can't be this indifferent towards it.

Subconsciously, I cross my arms over my chest and take a step back. "Aren't you cold?" I blurt out without thinking, needing to take his attention off of my body.

He looks immensely amused. "No."

I frown, suddenly feeling a little jealous. I'm freezing, and he isn't? That's not very fair.

He laughs. "Why, are you?" Before I even have the chance to reply- and I would've said no- he shrugs out of his robe and holds it out to me.

A frown curls the edges of my lips downward. "Um...?"

He rolls his eyes. "Just take it. I can't walk next to you knowing that you're cold." He shoves it at my chest, then starts walking past me.

I stood there for a moment in complete shock before turning, watching as he continues walking away.

"Well?" He shouts over his shoulder, his long legs striding forward, and I can't help but notice his back is extremely muscular. In fact, he might have one of the most well defined bodies I've ever seen, and my sister and I have watched a lot of The Vampire Diaries. "I don't have all night Princess."

I take a hesitant step towards him before freezing. What am I doing? What makes him think I will follow him? I don't even know him!

"Why?" I snap, crossing my arms over my chest and letting the robe fall to the ground. "Why should I go anywhere with you?!"

He pauses, his foot hanging midair before he slowly lowers it to the ground. Glancing back at me, he frowns, eyebrows furrowed with confusion. His eyes zero in on me and then suddenly they're narrowed, and he's stalking toward me and fuck why did I say that now he's going to kill me in a dirty street and-

He stops in front of me, but instead of grabbing me by the throat and snapping my neck- a feat which would not be too difficult with those muscles- like I'm expecting, he bends down and snatches his robe off of the ground.

He stands up, a deadly calm aura surrounding him as he looks down at the fabric, rubbing his thumb softly across the satin. Slowly, he raises his head and stares me dead in the eye, his expression blank. When he speaks, his voice is soft but cold, and yet at the same time, it's commanding and confident, as if he believes what he's staying wholeheartedly: "Don't ever disrespect this robe, because it represents something greater, something more instinctual, than us all. Disrespecting this robe is like disrespecting what it stands for, and you don't disrespect something that has run in our blood for so long it's tied with our survival itself."

Chills run up at down my body at his words, and I gap up at him in shock. I had never expected something like that to come from him, and I honestly couldn't tell if I was terrified or amazed.

Then again, I don't even know him.

But when he holds the robe out to me again, I find myself reaching for it and taking it softly, automatically pulling my arms through the sleeves. A strong masculine scent mixed with a hint of sweat, blood and leather comes from the robe, and together they make my senses tingle.

The smell is so... so comforting, but at the same time dangerous, and I just want to bury my face in the fabric and never stop smelling it.

But that would be weird, so I don't do that.

He turns back once again and starts walking down the sidewalk, and for whatever reason, I trail after him, staring down at the sleeves that are so long they cover my hands. Part of the bottom drags along the ground because of how much shorter than him I am, and I subconsciously pull it up as we walk.

"What does it represent?" I ask, wrapping my arms around my stomach. Admittedly, the robe does make me feel a lot warmer, though I would never admit it to him.

He doesn't answer, but I know he heard me.

So I don't say anything else.

As we walk, I feel myself get more and more anxious. I don't know where he's taking me, and I still don't recognize our surroundings.

So basically, I'm fucked.

He doesn't seem to share in my nerves, however, if his easy, nonchalant gait is anything to go by. In fact, he seems to be completely as ease.

Still, it's rather intimidating to walk beside someone as massive and strong as he is. Does he realize how goddamn scary he is?

"The reason you should follow me," he speaks suddenly, he voice low and controlled, "Is because a little ways down from where you were when I found you was a group of angry, drunk men. A group of men that you really didn't want to run into."

I glance up at him, surprised. "Oh."

We're silent for another few moments before I gather my courage and ask, "Why... Why were they angry?"

Now, I'm walking by his side, so when he looks down at me, I can see the smug grin on his face. "Because they lost." Pride radiates off of him in waves.

"Lost what?"

He doesn't answer again, but this time, now that I know he's willing to speak with me, I ask him something else. "Where are we going?" I yank the sleeves back over my hands and hoist the bottom of the robe higher again.

He watches me with a chuckle as I struggle before gently grasping my elbow and turning me to face him. We stop walking, and he reaches forward and begins to roll up the sleeves.

"Do you know what the definition of deadbeat is?" He asks in a distracted voice. I don't answer because I'm too busy looking up at him, at this man who was helping me- at least, I think he was helping me-, in confusion. Who was this guy?

I mean, we are complete strangers to each other, and yet we're having a conversation that's easier for me to partake in than a conversation between me and my parents.

He continues even though I don't answer. "A deadbeat is someone who is a slacker, someone who is lazy. Neglectful, even." By now he has both sleeves rolled back, and he crouches down before me, his hands taking the ends of the robe and tying them into a loose knot at the bottom. "But sometimes, there's irony, and dignity, in creating another meaning for a word such as deadbeat." Standing up, he smiles crookedly at me before beginning to walk again.

I stare after him for a moment, shocked into silence. What was his deal? He was both the sweetest yet the most evasive person I have ever met. Is he even real?

"As for where I'm taking you," He begins as I catch up to him again. "Well, hopefully to a place you will recognize. Otherwise, you'll be coming home with me."

My eyes bulge and I sharply inhale just once, suddenly feeling dizzy as I freeze. Oh my god, I knew I shouldn't have followed him! I can't go home with him!

He looks down at me in surprise, and after seeing my horrified expression, he bursts out laughing, his whole body shaking at the amusement and mirth he was releasing in loud guffaws.

"Holy shit, your face," he wheezed, letting out another few snickers as a deep blush coats my cheeks.

Gritting my teeth in anger- because all of a sudden I was no longer terrified, only pissed off- I stalk ahead of him, glaring at the ground as I leave him, still in hysterics, behind me.

"W-Wait!" He gasps out, stumbling along. "I'm sorry, I just-" He stuffs his fits in his mouth and bites his knuckles, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down, but even so he can't completely hide his smile. "Sorry, I'm done. I was just kidding."

I roll my eyes with a scoff. "You're such an asshole."

He looks at me, pretending to be offended, and yet he is still grinning. "Excuse me, this asshole might've just saved your life."

I give him a strange look, but he just keeps grinning down at me, his eyes bright and excited. Did he really find my reaction that amusing? "Why are you so... so happy?" I question curiously, cocking my head to the side.

His grin widens, his eyes staring straight ahead. "There are plenty of reasons I'm happy. I'm here with you, for one," he winked at me, making me blush again. "I'm making a shit load of money, and I'm a fucking champion. Take your pick of the lot, Princess."

I don't say anything for a moment as I look up at him. "Champion? How so?" I don't know why I was taking such an interest in this man, but I was. Everything about him was either terrifying or thrilling, and most everything he's done since I met him minutes ago has been unexpected, and I just... I don't know. I just want to understand him.

He looks down at me, too, and as soon as our gazes meet I look away. His eyes don't leave me though, and I feel them burning holes into the side of my face as we walk.

Yet again, he doesn't answer, but as I look around, I feel a vague sense of recognition. I... I've been here before. I don't know where here is exactly, but I know I've been here, and for me, that's enough.

A grin spreads across my face, a feeling of serenity and relief passing through me. I'd be okay. People were here; I could see a few walking around the lighted streets and in the occasional shop that happened to be open.

He wouldn't kill me here.

Well, I guess he still could, but it wouldn't be the ideal murder scene.

Speaking of he, the man is looking around, a thoughtful, calculating expression in his face. "Do you know where you are now?" He asks, staring off to the side. I follow his gaze and find that he's watching an open and lighted bar across the street. Because of how quiet it is outside, I can hear the boisterous men and women who are inside from here, and I feel my face wrinkle with distain.

"Um... Yeah." I look away from the bar and back to the open street in front of me. Squinting, I could just barely make out the street sign up ahead: Courtwood Ave.

"Can you get home from here?"

The more I study the scene around me, the more sure I am of my answer. "Yeah, I think so."

He nods. "Good." We stop simultaneously, almost without realizing it, and turn to face each other.

I swallow hard, suddenly feeling am immense wave of gratitude wash over me. Without this man, I would've still been lost, or worse. I own him a lot.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I step forward and wrap my arms around his waist in a hug. He stiffens almost immediately, but I don't give him the chance to reciprocate as I pull away quickly.

"Um..." I rub my neck, heat creeping over my skin, feeling a little self-conscious. Whoops. "Sorry, I just-"

He cuts me off with another heart-stopping grin. "It's fine, Princess. I get it; I'm irresistible."

I snort. "You wish."

He scoffs as if he doesn't believe me, and in all honesty he shouldn't. He was pretty irresistible.

"But seriously..." I clear my throat. "Thank you, for helping me and everything."

"Anytime." He laughs. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some celebrating to do." He turns and faces the bar.

Just as he starts walking away, I remember I still have his robe.

"Wait!" I call out, darting after him as I try and tug off the robe. "Your robe!"

He looks back at me in surprise as I reach him, pushing the balled up sarin at his chest. Chuckling, he takes the robe back, handling it with large, gentle hands. "Thanks."

"Thank you, um, again." I swallow hard, feeling my cheeks heat up at the intensity in which he looks at me.

Without removing his eyes from me, he pulled the robe over his shoulders, sliding his arms through the sleeves. "What's your name?"

Now, just as we're about to separate for good, he asks for my name?

"Sienna," I say instead of voicing my question. I don't want to sound bitter or anything, because I'm honestly not. "And yours?"

For a moment, he didn't say anything, and just as I begin to think that he'll walk away without replying, he speaks. "Jax."

As soon as I hear his name, it clicks into place. Every thought I had where I referred to him in my head changes as Jax replaces he. Somehow, it fits.

We look at each other for a moment, neither of us leaving nor giving any indication that we were about to, and I decide to try one more time to get an explanation from him. "Why are you celebrating?"

Jax's grin is instantaneous. "Do you really want to know, Princess? Because once I tell you, your world will be changed forever."

I tense, suddenly nervous. What is he talking about? Still, his words sparked curiosity, so cautiously, I nod. 

Jax remains quiet for a few seconds, a concentrated look on his face before he looks up at me, a passionate fire burning in his gaze. "I tried MMA. I really did. I tried the legal fights, but they didn't... they just didn't do it for me."

Fights? He's into fighting?

I mean it makes sense. He certainly looks like a fighter. Is that where he was tonight?

Looking at him closer, I see the beginning of a bruise forming on his jaw, and his nose seems to be just the slightest bit crooked, as if it's broken. There's no blood, but that doesn't mean he didn't himself clean up.

I could definitely imagine him as a fighter.

Jax continues, his voice growing stronger and surer with each word: "So I decided to try something different. And it's like a whole new world has been opened up, Si. I've got real power now, control and strength and everything I could ever want." A harsh laugh escapes from his lips, sending shivers up my spine.

My god.

The way he's speaking right now, his voice... it's terrifying, and captivating, and fuck I feel like I'm in a trance as I watch him go on and on. "Everyone worships me now, because we all crave the feeling of power and revenge and victory." A viscous grin spreads across Jax's face, on that was so much different than all the others I can barely recognize him.

"And fuck Sienna, the pain, the suffering I can inflict... it's insane. But I love it. I love the splitting skin under my fists and the splintering bones and the cries of pain and-"

His breathing gets heavier, his eyes burning brighter, as he clenches and unclenches his fists, over and over again, staring down at them in awe. "And the victory... its sweet as hell. When I won tonight..." He shivers, but not with cold, because how can you even feel cold with so much fire in your blood?

Jax's eyes fly open, and I realize suddenly that they're blue, ice cold and on fire, all at the same time.

He's insane.

"The adrenaline, the freedom, the power..." His voice cracks and he shivers again, his face so filled with emotion I feel the breath whoosh out of my body. "I love it. I crave it. And it makes me a terrible person, but I don't even care."

A cruel smile spreads across his face as he looks at me, really looks at me, for the first time since he began this speech, and goosebumps race across my skin.

"Everyone loves a good fight, even those who claim otherwise. But I love more than a good fight. I love winning a good fight, and I do. Every. Single. Time."

We stare at each other for a moment. I'm shocked into silence, and Jax seems to be waiting for me to reply, but how do I reply to that?

How can I tell him what I think, when I don't even know what I think? How can I tell him that I think he's crazy and insane and right because he is.

Or, at least, he's made me think he is. The conviction with which he spoke... god, how could I not believe him?

Everyone craves power and victory. Everyone wants to win, wants to be a superior.

Jax might be fucked up and insane, but he's not wrong. I can't condemn him for being cruel, not when human nature in itself is cruel.

My mouth is dry. "Is that what the robe stands for?"

He nods slowly, watching me as if trying to gauge my reaction, but he's going to be disappointed because I feel so goddamn calm as I look at him, it's almost scary.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and then I'm reminded of the fact that it's way too late at night to be dealing with an almost stranger.

So I step back, already reaching for my phone. "Bye Jax. Thank you for helping me."

His lips twitched into the smallest a of smiles, or smirks. I can't really tell. "Goodbye Sienna. Until we meet again."

Jax turns and starts walking away, and as he walks away, my eyes are glued to his back, to the back of the satin robe that he lent me tonight.

Deadbeat.

I tear my eyes away and answer my phone, my heart hammering so hard my vision pulses. "Beth?"