In the wrong place at the wrong time, a young woman is taken hostage during an epic shootout with the FBI and soon finds herself on the run with the notorious John Dillinger...
She had climbed the stairs as fast as she could, but it hadn't been enough for Bernadette to catch up with the brown-haired stranger she'd been running after. She had reached the upper floor just in time to see the door to one of the rooms closing, and now she was standing in front of it, debating on whether she should knock or just head back downstairs where her presence was certainly more needed. Her shift was far from being over after all.
Her gaze dropped to the watch in her palm and her thumb ran over the yellow metal. Mindlessly, she lifted the lid, revealing a photograph of a beautiful woman. A small frown appeared on her face as she carefully studied the portrait, and the bright eyes that were staring right back into hers.
Closing the watch case, Bernadette raised her hand, ready to knock, but decided against it at the very last second. She wasn't even sure it was his room, she had merely assumed it, and for all she knew, she could very well be wrong. But then again, she didn't have any other lead to find the man she was looking for.
♡♡♡
A heavy, frustrated sigh left John's lips as he took a peek out of the window, the handgun he had previously stuffed into his pants pocket now gripped tightly in his palm. Finding himself back in his silent, lonely room had reminded him all too well of the situtation he was in, and of this very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had, in vain, tried to escape earlier. Agitated and uneasy, he couldn't help keeping an eye on the courtyard below. It was lit up, but there seemed to be no movement, at least nothing suspicious.
His grip on the gun slowly began to loosen. Peering outside one last time, he placed it by the window, alongside all the other firearms that were already laying there, and turned to the bed. Another long day was awaiting him, he needed some rest.
He turned on the radio, counting on the music to ease his mind enough to sleep, and lay down on the mattress, fully dressed, as usual, ready to leave anytime, in a heartbeat if necessary. Not bothering to turn off the bedside lamp, he closed his eyes and focused on the music that was playing, trying to think of something pleasant to drift off to.
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The first image popping up in his head was not something he had expected. Green eyes, luscious red lips, a cascade of chestnut hair... A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth at the memory of the young barmaid he had met earlier. Although he didn't quite comprehend why she was on his mind at this particular moment, he didn't question it. She was good enough a distraction for the time being.
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