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In a quite corner of the city, we hid, holding our breath.

I turned to look beside me and saw the man looking severely nervous. He was so anxious that he wasn’t even breathing, crouched in a  goofy, rigid posture.His expression made me chuckle.

"Aren’t you a little too nervous?"

When I asked, he responded,

"Of course I am! I’ve never done anything like this before..."

At that moment, thud! A loud crashing noise erupted behind us, followed by angry shoutings of an old man.

I watched as the man beside me stiffened, the hairs on his body standing up, and I barely managed to stifle my laughter.

As the commotion died down, he finally stood up and spoke.

"Why do you always cause trouble like this?"

"But the apples just looked so delicious."

"That doesn’t mean you can just grab one and run!"

"So… are you saying you don’t want to be around me anymore?"

At my question, he hesitated, unable to answer.

"W-well… it’s not that, but..."

Seeing the troubled look on his face, I couldn’t help but find him endearing again.

I grabbed his hand and grinned.

"Oh yeah? Then run!"

Behind him, the furious fruit vendor was chasing after us, swinging his fists in the air.

As we darted through the narrow alleys, I thought to myself

I grew up on these streets, always fighting to survive.With no money, I had to steal bread to fill my stomach.If I wanted something, I found a way to take it.

And then he appeared in my life.

Unlike me, he wasn’t someone who lived this lifestyle.Yet, for some reason, he chose to follow me everywhere I go.Even when I got into trouble, he was always there by my side.

Like the eye of a storm, he brought a strange sense of calm to my chaotic life.

I liked that feeling.Maybe, deep down, I even admired him for it.And perhaps… I was starting to love him for it.

He always talks about how there's hope in living a diligent, honest life.I can’t say I completely agree, but…I know, at least in part, that he’s right.

Maybe if I were the kind of girl who wore dresses and collected dainty teacups,he’d like me a little more.

But no matter how I look at it, I’ll always be the kind of person who suits denim better.Sometimes, that makes me feel a little ashamed.. And maybe, a little guilty.

My life has always been one reckless mess after another.And I wonder… is he getting swept up in that mess because of me?

But whenever these tangled thoughts start weighing me down,I tell myself

Hush.

So what? Just focus on the warmth of his hand in mine.

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