“I could live at Starbucks,” Tayte groaned as they exited the café, pausing to hold the door for a young woman with a toddler.
Seth raised his eyebrows in a silent question to himself as the mother grabbed hold of her little boy’s small hand and led him inside, thanking his best friend softly.  Why was a mother bringing a toddler to Starbucks at midnight? Wasn’t he supposed to be in bed? It was rare that Seth and Tayte ever saw any other people in the café, much less a toddler, but that was only because only reckless, idiotic teenagers were stupid enough to go out on the Baltimore streets late at night.  Reckless, idiotic eighteen-year-olds like Seth and Tayte, who wouldn’t abandon their nightly coffee and crumpet run for anything.
Tayte, seeming to be reading Seth’s mind, raised her eyebrows at the toddler and his mother’s retreating back also, but said nothing.  Instead she caught up the few steps to him, sliding under his arm so that it was wrapped around her, her small body pressed closely up to his sides; he could feel her shiver through the thick coat he had given her on the way up.  Seth was freezing too, of course, considering that it was nighttime and the beginning of the bitter cold season of winter, but he didn’t complain.  Part of him barely even felt the cold; he had lost his jacket to Tayte so many times over the fifteen years they had known each other that he felt like he had learned to control his body temperature.  But, another part knew that he felt the biting cold of the night, but didn’t mind it.  Tayte was pressed up close to him, her body like the sun itself, and that was all that mattered.
He wondered when he would ever get the nerve to tell her about how he felt, about the huge crush that seemed to consume him nowadays. Seth didn’t know when it happened, of course.  All he knew was that somewhere between trading crayons in pre-k and walking through the halls on the first day of senior year, the best friend love he had felt for her turned into something else.  Tayte had always had a way of breaking him down, forcing him to drop the dark, mysterious, tattooed and pierced guy charade with a simple smile and a few words; it was why he needed her, someone to be natural with.  But, in the past few months, she didn’t just break him down; she seemed to shatter him into little fragile pieces.  He would never have the nerve to tell her that, though.
Seth sighed.
“That was a sigh of exasperation,” Tayte stated, looking up at him with those emerald green eyes that he found so entrancing, her high cheekbones rising even higher as she smiled.  “What are you so exasperated about that you have to sigh?”
He grinned, partly at her question, partly at the way she had just stumbled into him as she tripped over an empty beer bottle.  “Life,” he simply answered.  Absently, a second nature, he began playing with the auburn curls that fell down and around her shoulders, which she seemed to hate even more than her pale skin.  She seemed to hate everything about being a redhead, even the cute little freckles that sprinkled her face like pepper.  Seth, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine, didn’t want to imagine, her as being anything but that.  He loved her wavy hair, her sparkling green eyes, her porcelain smooth pale skin, her little freckles; they were what made her her.
“And what has life done to you?” As she spoke, she wrapped an arm around his waist, trying in vain to reach her arm around to his front pocket so she had something to warm her bare hand; the other was clasped in his. 
“Given me you,” he teased, nudging her with his shoulder.  “That’s a lot to be exasperated about, Tayte.” His mouth twitched in an involuntary smile as he said the words; they were true.  Because of Tayte in his life, he not only had to deal with the confusing feelings he had for her, but also the problems she carried: her mom, who had abandoned her at fifteen, her daily outfit and hair crisis, and everything in between.  Seth didn’t mind, though; he knew he put as much baggage on her too.  But, they were best friends; it was sort of their job.
She stuck her tongue out at him, the little piercing she had died to get reflecting the streetlight as she did. “Is that so?” she questioned.  There was that same wicked glint in her eyes that Seth always associated with the times she joked with him about things he couldn’t stand; it always amused her.  “Because I think that Nick loves to have me in his life, so much he wouldn’t even think of me as exasperating in this least bit at all.” She grinned.  “I’m like his gift from heaven.”
Nick.  The word was a growl in his mind, and maybe even out loud too.  He hated him.  The guy was like the king of cheaters and being a clueless idiot, which, now that Seth thought about it, was probably why he was so popular.  But, even then, Seth wouldn’t usually care, but he crossed the line with inviting Tayte over to a party with “his boys”.  He still remembered the day when she told him about that, and how he totally blew up until she reassured him a thousand times that she had rejected.  And, now, she teased him about Nick. All the time.  And all the time it made him itch with fury, but he knew he couldn’t be mad at Tayte.
When he didn’t reply instantly, she seemed to take that as encouragement.  “He just absolutely adores me, Seth,” she taunted.  “I think I might even take him up on that party offer.”
The moments that followed after her words seemed to morph into a complete blur.
One moment Seth was looking down at her with that playful grin he always used to cue that he was about to attack her, and the next moment she was unwinding herself from him and taking off down the shadowed sidewalk, and he was following her, entranced by her musical laugh.  Nothing seemed unusual about the moment.  He couldn’t count the times he had chased her down these sidewalks, only to wrap his arms around her like a snare in the end, laughing as she, herself, laughed so hard that no noise was coming out.  It was just who they were.
It was when Tayte stopped so suddenly that Seth almost bumped into her that he started to worry.  He wondered why she stopped, almost began to joke with her about the fact that it wasn’t a game of catch unless he caught her.  But, then he looked up, past Tayte’s suddenly tense body, to the muscular, bulky man who stood in front of them…pointing a gun right at Tayte.
He didn’t even have time to become scared before he was moving in front of his best friend, like a shield being put over a soldier’s head in battle.  Seth didn’t care what happened, as long as Tayte was safe.  There was no hesitating.  He couldn’t imagine a world without her, and wouldn’t want to, even if he wasn’t in it.  She was all that mattered.
“Listen, man, you can take my wallet; I don’t have much cash, but there’s a whole credit card in here,” Seth began slowly, his heart beating like a hammer in his chest.  The man was huge, easily way over six feet, and looked like he had had his good deal of steroids; Seth wouldn’t be able to beat him if it came to a fist fight.  He, himself, was a decently tall and muscular guy, thanks to football, but he was nothing compared to this guy. And he had a gun.  “Take it.”
As soon as Seth reached for his wallet in his back pocket, the man c***ed the gun, the deafening click filling the silence of the night.  He heard Tayte whimper from behind him, and instantly moved the hand that was reaching for the wallet to grip hers.  The gunman didn’t seem to take that as a threat, and Tayte gripped Seth’s hand tight, so tight he was scared she might break it.  But, he memorized the way her hand felt in his, soft from the vanilla lotion she put on every morning, warm from being in his pocket, so that, if he did die, he’d have fresh knowledge of how it felt.
“What do you want?” Seth asked, fighting to keep his voice steady for Tayte, but knowing that it was still slightly shaky.  He couldn’t help it, though.  Fear was pulsing through his veins like venom, causing his heart to race and a slight sweat to break out onto his forehead, despite the coldness of the night.  He wanted to cry out for someone, but he knew that the streets were always deserted at this time at night, and that it would only be useless.
This fear wasn’t mostly for himself, though, mostly for Tayte, who would never in a million years deserve this type of brutal death.
The man flicked the hand with the gun in it in their direction, and he felt as Tayte flinched, felt as the pulse on her wrist quickened.  “The girl,” was the gunman’s only reply.
That was enough to almost break Seth, though.
Tayte was literally his life.  He loved her, cared for her, more than anything in this world, and even contemplating about giving her over to this man was something he wouldn’t even think about doing.  She was the one who looked at him and said “You’re not dating that girl” when he thought about dating any girl she didn’t approve of, which, of course, hadn’t happened lately.  She was the one who would force herself to stay up all night with him just so she could make sure he was studying, so he could at least graduate high school.  She was the one who he knew would hold his hand on graduation day when he thought he wasn’t getting his diploma, and the one who would wrap him in a hug and say “I told you so” when he did, or simply hug him if he didn’t. Seth knew he wouldn’t be able to even survive without her.  She was his anchor, his only piece of solid ground in a world that was nothing but chaos.  And he loved her, needed her, more than any guy could love or need his best friend, more than anyone in the world could love or need anybody.  And if something ever happened to her…He barely even wanted to think about it at the moment, much less it actually happen.
“Over my dead body,” Seth spat.  He wasn’t scared anymore; he was furious.  Furious that this man had to interrupt his night with Tayte. Furious that this man was pointing a gun at him.  Furious that this man was demanding to have Tayte, the Tayte he would never give away, only because he was lucky to have her in his life himself. 
The gunman smiled an almost toothless smile, that didn’t exactly match his decently handsome appearance; military cropped black hair, tan skin that was barely covered in gym shorts and a tank top, dark brown eyes, so dark they were almost black.  “We can make it that way,” he stated.  He took a few steps toward Seth, and he instantly pulled Tayte close to him, not backing up only because he wanted to stand his ground.  “But, I’d rather not.  So just give me your little girlfriend; I only want to have fun.”
The way the man said the word ‘fun’ made Seth want to punch him, and run away with Tayte at the same time.  He contemplated running away, but knew that he most likely would only get shot in the back, and he couldn’t risk the gunman shooting Tayte as well.  So, instead, he let the fury take control, letting it pour out, stretching from his head to his toes so that his body was almost shaking.  This guy was trying to not just get Tayte, but abuse her. He had crossed the line.
And so did Seth.
He let go of Tayte’s hand, giving it one last squeeze before ramming himself into the gunman with all his might.  He seemed to be caught off guard at his sudden attack, and Seth began to wonder how many times the gunman had done this and gotten away with it.  But, that didn’t matter now.  All that mattered was getting rid of this man before he took both their lives.
The man stumbled back some, but not enough so that he fell.  Seth wondered how in the world he didn’t fall.  He had tackled numerous guys in football, more than he could even count, but what he had just done was fury-filled, and a thousand times harder…and the gunman had barely moved.  He looked up at him in idiotic bewilderment, abruptly aware of how he towered over Seth, Seth’s head just reaching the attacker’s mouth.  He couldn’t even begin to fathom how he was going to tackle this guy, beat him up hard enough so that he was so dazed they could escape.  It seemed to be a dream.  But, what definitely wasn’t a dream was the pain that shot through Seth’s nose as the gunman punched him.
He stumbled back from the powerful blow, falling onto the concrete and cradling his nose in his hand as blood poured out of it.  Searing pain pulsed through him, and, for a second, he saw nothing but blackness.  But, then, his sight came back, and he could see the man, smiling at his pain. 
“Seth!” he heard Tayte exclaim, worry layering her voice like icing layered cake.
Seth heaved a deep sigh, blood falling onto his lips.  He didn’t want to get up whatsoever, but he knew he needed to, if only to encourage Tayte for even a tiny bit longer that they were going to get through this.  His nose may have been throbbing painfully, but he had to get up and fight, or else he and Tayte may be murdered.  He repeated that word in his head: murdered.
He managed to stand, turning to the gunman, who was currently smiling at Seth with all the arrogance in the world.  He couldn’t let him win, just for the reason that he was assuming he was going to win. 
Quickly, Seth crossed the few steps between them, instantly bringing his right arm, his throwing arm, up in a perfect arc, slamming it into the gunman’s temple with such force he almost wondered if he had shattered his own knuckles.  But, he could deal with the pain later.  The punch had obviously caught the gunman off guard and he stumbled backwards, closing his eyes to clear his vision.  This gave Seth just enough time to land a roundhouse kick into his gut, listening as the breath was knocked out of him, and then bringing his left fist up under his nose.  The bone crunching as he did so was all too satisfying. A broken nose for a broken nose; it was only fair.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” the gunman hissed, spitting blood as he did so.
And suddenly, he was on Seth, like a lion might be on a gazelle.  He didn’t even have time to react before the gunman had one hand gripping his throat, cutting off any air he could breathe, using his other arm to punch him in the face repeatedly, hitting his jaw with bone-shattering force.  How, Seth wondered, is this even possible? He couldn’t even begin to count the number of fights he had successfully won, many with guys much older and larger than him.  But, this man was so strong, so incredibly huge that it was almost hard to believe. The pain, however, shooting through his face, and the agonizing struggle for breath, wasn’t hard to believe at all.
Seth, remembering self-defense classes he had taken and on the verge of being choked to death, yanked his elbow back as hard as possible and jabbed the gunman’s ribs. In a state of surprise and pain, he released him, clutching his abdomen as Seth fell to the ground.  He felt blood running down his face like a waterfall, and his jaw seemed to be at an awkward angle, pulsing painfully along with the rest of his head.  His breaths, coming in dangerous gasps, didn’t help any either. But, he knew he had to stand before the gunman recovered, knowing that being on his feet first would be a big advantage.  It was hard to find the strength, though, when he was in so much pain, and fearing for his and his best friend’s lives.
He got up eventually, however, stumbling slightly.  The impact of the gunman’s fist with his face had left his legs sort of shaky, and he tried to regain his balance, holding his hands out to his sides.  The gunman loomed out in front of him, even crouched over, like the Devil himself, a dark, unrealistically big shadow that could kill Seth with a simple movement of his finger on the trigger.  He seemed to radiate death, and feeling that death, Seth couldn’t help but turn his head to Tayte, just to look at her for one last time, tell her how he felt.
She was staring at him in horror, her pale face streaked with tears.  Seth couldn’t help but smile a little, even in that moment, as he noticed that the streetlights on her auburn hair made it look dark gold, like a halo, as if she were an angel.  Her simple white dress was her gown, and the tears on her face were glittering stars, tattooed there from the heavens. Even now, as Seth accepted the fact he could be murdered tonight, Tayte managed to look beautiful, managed to make his already short breaths become even shorter.
“Tayte,” he breathed.  
She smiled a weak, almost not even there smile, and from that smile he saw that she had already given up, and that in the way he said her name, she had realized he had given up too. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered, as if assuring him, even in death, it would always be okay. 
He sighed, a tear rolling down his cheek, pleading. “Please, don’t…”
But, he didn’t have time to finish.  Tayte was looking behind him in absolute horror, her mouth formed in a silent cry, her eyes absolutely terrified. 
Seth turned, only to see the gunman, acutely pointing the gun at Tayte, who was no longer behind Seth, pulling the trigger. 
And he jumped in front of Tayte, taking the bullet like he always knew he’d do.  There was a searing pain in his chest, like something was burning its way through him, and then he was falling on the ground, his head hitting the asphalt with a deafening crack.  The last thing he heard was Tayte, screaming his name through tears, and another gun shot that he was sure was killing him off.  And then everything went pitch black.