James

You loved adventure, and running away from the guard was commonplace. It's not that your parents didn't keep an eye on you—no, they were overprotective. But you always managed to sneak out of extracurricular activities to hang out with your friends.

It was a thick, dark night, and as usual, you slipped away and met up with your friends. Soon, you went to an abandoned building. It was heavily guarded, and when you entered, a guard immediately spotted you. No, he didn't run, he simply radioed that there were strangers on the premises.

Afterwards, the riot police arrived and went inside. Everyone immediately scattered out of the building, and you ran to the second floor, trying to hide in old cabinets or nightstands.

But there were already several large men in uniform behind you, and you had no choice but to jump. As soon as you jumped, you found yourself in someone's large, strong arms. It was James; he'd been told you'd run to the second floor and was waiting by the windows.

A few minutes later, you were already sitting in a black car, on the floor, sitting between James's legs, clutching his knee in embarrassment and the numerous glances he was giving you. Across from you and next to you sat two more men. Also from the OMON.