The burglar jumped, dragging me with him as he moved away from Arlecchino. I felt something painful, but I was too much in the moment to think about it. He was fast, faster than I'd expected.
Arlecchino pulled the trigger, but the shot went wide, missing him by inches. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the room, and I couldn't help but freak out.
"Holy shit! You were actually trying to blow his brains out?!" I blurted out, my voice a mix of shock and awe.
Arlecchino didn't flinch. Her gaze was locked on him, her finger steady on the trigger.
"It's not safe to point that thing at people's heads, you know," the burglar said, his voice carrying an edge of nervousness now.
"Let her go," Arlecchino said, her voice calm but filled with an unmistakable threat. "Now."
For a moment, everything was still. I could feel the burglar's breath on my neck, his grip tight and desperate. But then, something in his eyes flickered—fear, maybe?—and he hesitated.
"You really don't want to do this," Arlecchino continued, her tone softening just a fraction. "Let her go, and we can talk about this."
"Talk?" the burglar echoed, his voice shaky. "You think I want to talk?"
Arlecchino took a step forward, her gun never wavering.
"I think you want to live," she said quietly. "And this is your best chance."
I held my breath, praying he would listen. For a moment, it seemed like he might. But then he tightened his grip on me, pulling me closer. "Back off, or she dies!"
Arlecchino's eyes hardened. "You're making a mistake."
"Am I?" he sneered, his bravado returning. "I don't think you understand who you're dealing with."
"Oh, I understand perfectly," she said, her voice cold as ice. "You're a small-time thief who thinks he's got the upper hand. But you're wrong."
The burglar's smirk faltered for a split second. He pulled me closer, his knife pressing against my throat. "If you get any closer, she gets hurt. You don't want that, do you?"
"Don't shoot!" I shouted at Arlecchino, my voice trembling. "You might hit me!"
Arlecchino hesitated, her eyes flicking between me and the burglar. Slowly, she raised her hands. "Alright," she said calmly. "Just don't hurt her."
"Drop the weapon," the burglar demanded, his voice edged with desperation.
Arlecchino's eyes narrowed, but she did as he asked, lowering the gun to the floor.
But just as she let go, she kicked it forward with a swift, precise motion.
The gun slid across the floor, hitting the burglar's knife and flinging it away from him.
Before he could react, Arlecchino rushed forward, a blur of movement.
She tackled the burglar, knocking him off balance and sending us both crashing to the floor. I scrambled away, my heart pounding as I watched them struggle.
The burglar managed to land a punch, but Arlecchino was relentless. She moved with a fluid grace, her every motion calculated and deadly. Within moments, she had him pinned, her knee pressed into his back and his arms twisted painfully behind him.
"Nice try," she said coldly, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. "But you picked the wrong mansion to rob."
The burglar groaned, his face pressed against the floor. "Alright, alright, you win! Just... get off me!"
Arlecchino didn't move. "Not until the police arrive. You're not going anywhere."
I finally allowed myself to breathe, the tension slowly draining from my body. "That was... intense," I said, my voice shaky.
Arlecchino let out a heavy sigh, her gaze shifting from the defeated burglar to me. "Call the police," she instructed, her tone firm but not unkind. "Tell them what happened and give them the address."
I nodded, my hands still trembling from the adrenaline rush. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911, trying to steady my voice as I spoke. "Hello, yes, there's been a burglary. The address is 1123 Crescent Drive, the large mansion at the end of the street. Yes, we have the intruder restrained. Please send someone quickly."
The operator assured me that help was on the way, and I hung up, feeling a mix of relief and lingering fear. I glanced over at Arlecchino, who was keeping a watchful eye on the blue-haired burglar, her expression unreadable.
The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity. Finally, the sound of sirens pierced the night, and moments later, the police burst into the room. They swiftly apprehended the burglar, who, to my annoyance, was still wearing that infuriatingly smug grin.
"Well, well, looks like my night just got a lot more interesting," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm as the officers cuffed him.
"Shut up," one of the officers snapped, not in the mood for his antics. "You're in enough trouble already."
As they led him away, the burglar glanced back at us, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Thanks for the fun, ladies. Maybe I'll see you around."
"Not if we see you first," Arlecchino retorted, her voice cold as ice.
As the police car drove away, taking the smug burglar with it, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. But it was short-lived. I barely had a moment to catch my breath before Arlecchino's sharp eyes zeroed in on me.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft but laced with concern.
"Yeah, I think so," I replied, though I wasn't entirely sure. My heart was still racing, and adrenaline was coursing through my veins. I tried to laugh it off, but the sound came out strained. "Just a bit shaken up."
Her eyes narrowed, and I could see her scanning me from head to toe. "You're bleeding."
I followed her gaze and saw the blood soaking through my shirt. My mind took a second to catch up, and then the pain hit me like a freight train. "SHIT... I didn't even feel that."
"Adrenaline," Arlecchino said, stepping closer. "Take your shirt off. I need to see how bad it is."
Her words made my heart skip a beat. "Wh-what? Here? Now?"
"Yes, now," she repeated, her voice firm. "You're hurt. We need to take care of it."
I hesitated, my mind racing. This was all too much. The burglary, the chase, the confrontation... and now this? "But... it's just... you know..."
Arlecchino's patience was visibly thinning. "You're bleeding, and you're worried about modesty? Fine, if you won't do it, I will."
Before I could protest, she reached out and started unbuttoning my shirt with swift, efficient movements. My face turned a bright shade of red, both from the situation and the sudden, searing pain.
"OUCH! THAT HURTS!" I winced, feeling the sharp sting of the wound. The pain was like a hot iron pressed against my skin, and it took everything in me not to cry out.
"Hold still," Arlecchino commanded, her tone brooking no argument. She finished unbuttoning my shirt and gently pulled it off, revealing a deep gash on my side.
I tried to focus on anything but the pain and the fact that I was now half-naked in front of her. "This is embarrassing..." I muttered under my breath.
Arlecchino didn't seem to hear me. She was already moving, grabbing a first aid kit from a nearby cabinet. "Sit down," she instructed, her voice softer now. "We need to get this cleaned and bandaged."
I sat down, biting my lip to keep from crying out as the movement sent another jolt of pain through my side. "GREAT, just what I needed," I muttered, trying to distract myself from the agony.
She gave me a small, reassuring smile. "You'll be fine. Just hang in there."
I watched her work, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Despite the pain and the absurdity of the situation, I couldn't help but notice how calm and composed Arlecchino was.
"You're really good at this," I said, trying to distract myself from the pain.
"I've had practice," she replied, her eyes never leaving the wound. "Now hold still."
She wrapped a bandage around my waist, her touch surprisingly gentle. Each movement was deliberate and precise, and I found myself oddly comforted by her presence.
"There," she said finally, tying off the bandage. "That should hold for now, but we need to get you to a hospital."
I nodded, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over me. "Okay."
Arlecchino helped me to my feet, her arm around my shoulders for support. "Come on," she said, leading me towards the door. "Let's get you to the car."
We made our way outside, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth of the mansion. Each step sent a fresh wave of pain through my side, and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. Arlecchino opened the passenger door of her car and helped me inside, making sure I was comfortable before closing the door.
As she got into the driver's seat, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. Despite everything that had happened, I knew I was in good hands. Arlecchino was more than just a protector; she was a friend, someone I could rely on no matter what.
The engine roared to life, and we sped off towards the hospital. I leaned back in the seat, my eyes closing as I finally allowed myself to relax. Or at least, I tried to. The pain in my side was relentless, each throb reminding me of the night's events.
"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
Arlecchino glanced over at me, her expression unreadable. "For what?"
"For saving me," I replied, my eyes meeting hers. "For everything."
She gave me a small, genuine smile. "You're welcome."
As we drove through the quiet streets, I tried to distract myself from the pain by talking to Arlecchino. "So... how did you get so good at this?"
"At what?" she asked, her eyes on the road.
"At... well, everything. Fighting, bandaging wounds... saving people."
She chuckled softly. "It comes with the territory. You learn quickly when your life depends on it."
I nodded, trying to keep my mind off the stabbing pain. "Makes sense, I guess."
Suddenly, a sharp jolt of pain shot through my side as we hit a bump. I gasped, clutching at the wound. "AH, DAMN IT! THAT HURTS!"
Arlecchino's eyes flicked over to me, concern etched on her face. "Hang in there, we're almost at the hospital."
I tried to breathe through the pain, but it was overwhelming. Every movement, every breath felt like I was being stabbed all over again. "I DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH MORE OF THIS I CAN TAKE," I muttered, my voice strained. More blood was leaking out from my shirt
"You're stronger than you think," Arlecchino said, her voice calm and steady. "Just focus on getting through this moment. One step at a time."
Her words were a small comfort, but the pain was relentless. I closed my eyes, trying to block it out, but it was no use. It was like a constant, throbbing reminder of everything that had happened tonight.
Finally, we pulled up to the hospital. Arlecchino parked the car and came around to my side, helping me out. Every step was agony, and I had to lean heavily on her to keep from collapsing.
"We're almost there," she said, her voice soft. "Just a little further."
We made our way into the emergency room, and Arlecchino quickly got the attention of a nurse. They took one look at me and immediately sprang into action, getting me onto a stretcher and wheeling me away.
As they started working on my wound, I looked up at Arlecchino, who was standing by my side, her expression calm and reassuring. "Thank you," I said again, my voice barely a whisper.
"You're going to be okay," she said, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. "Just hang in there."