You look up to the late evening sky, a mix of purples and oranges mingling with each other as a cool breeze blows past you. Deeply inhaling before letting out a content sigh, you look back to the man sitting mere inches away, brandishing the goofy smile you've come to love. You can't help but smile yourself and give a light chuckle before leaning into him for a goodbye kiss.
 
When you finally pull away, you take his hand in yours. "Y'know Anon, I can't really help but thank you for helping me out of my shell and... uh, getting me to travel all the way down here from Canada." Your tail seems to have a mind of its own, wagging as you continue to awkwardly fumble with his hand.  
 
With a chortle he replies, "Come on Steph, you did this of your own free will, all I did was give you the suggestion, you dweeb."
 
Rolling your eyes, you wave it off and playfully swat at him. "But seriously, I've got to get back home before it gets too late. I don't want my nephew wondering where his aunt went off to the whole night. I'll see you tomorrow Anon, love ya," you say, pulling away from him as you finish.
 
The second you take a few steps away you hear him call out, "Hey, Steph you mind if I come with to take you home?"
 
You chuff at his request. "Yeah totally, so you and I can sit around on the couch and 'chill out' all day," you state, finishing your statement with air quotes just to drive your point home.  
 
Raising his arms in mock surrender he backs off. "Alright, alright... Just, stay safe okay? I love you too, hun."
 
With a smile you roll your eyes and nod. "Promise I will." 

Taking a few more steps down his porch you turn back to see him still leaning in his doorway with the very same smile you fell in love with adorning his face. Giving one last wave goodbye, you leave his porch and turn onto the sidewalk before placing your hands in your jacket's pockets.
 
Pulling out your phone, you let out a happy sigh before starting to whisper to yourself in a slow, melodic tone, "Anon, tu es mon tout. Comme je t'aime tant. Du soleil à ma lune. La lumière dans ma vie..." 

You continue singing quietly, your cheeks reddening at your little proclamations of affection towards Anon, seemingly lost to the night sky. As you scroll through photos of you and Anon, you can’t help but smile at the fond memories and fuzzy feelings that run through you whenever you reminisce on time spent together. Glancing up from your phone, you notice someone walking opposite you. Paying no mind to them, you keep looking forward, continuing to sing your little song with a slightly content smile plastered onto your muzzle.
Before you know it, the person walking past pulls a knife from their pocket and points it at you. You flinch back, taking a few, careful steps backwards as you raise your hands, your self preservation instincts stopping you from further provoking the armed assailant. Inspecting them, you can barely make out their features under the heavy jacket they’re wearing. Glancing downwards, you stare at the knife for what feels like hours before briefly looking back to the roof of Anon's house, now barely visible with the treeline obscuring it. Tensing your muscles, you get ready to bolt, taking a few small, yet cautious steps backwards before a grumbly voice stops you in your tracks.

"Where do you think you're running off to?" Flashing the knife once again, he shakes his head slightly. "Don't make this any harder than this has to be, girly," he says, finishing with a sigh before staring you dead in the eyes.

Gritting your teeth slightly you feel sick, your composure quickly whittling away under the pressure. 

As you try and calm yourself down, you can’t help but think about what he could possibly want from you, and you inwardly grimace at one of the possibilities. 'He's probably just here for your valuables Stephanie, just give them to him and you'll make it home intact. Just toss your wallet down and you're scott free.'

You take a shaky breath before swallowing the lump in your throat. 'L-look, I-I... I'll make your job easier a-and just give you what you w-want," you say, your quavering tone betraying your hurried attempt at being stoic. 
 
Slowly moving a hand to your back pocket, you slide out your wallet and toss it on the floor before raising it in the air again. "J-just... let me leave? Please?" You feel as if you're on the verge of tears, the mix of fear and stress making your body shake like a leaf in the wind.

He takes a quick step towards you, squatting down and grabbing your wallet in one swift movement before standing back up and pointing his knife in your direction. 

As you stare at him from your original position, an overwhelming sense of dread washes over you. 'Why didn't I run while I had the chance?!' you berate yourself, but quickly stop and rationalize your behavior. 'I would've been done for the second I stepped out of line, why risk it?'

He stares at you with what you can only assume is a sneer and starts to walk past you; before you can drop your now numb arms, you feel him slam his fist against your gut before continuing past you. With a cough and groan, you wrap your arms around your abdomen to stop the lingering sensation of the punch. A quick look behind yourself shows you the mugger continuing down the sidewalk as if nothing had happened. You almost want to call for help, but you decide against it, afraid he'd try and hurt you if you did. As you continue down the path you contemplate walking back to Anon's house to let him know what happened and you briefly turn your body before you once again catch a glimpse of your assailant in the distance, still slowly walking down the dimly lit street. Worried thoughts come to the forefront of your mind as you continue down your own path and for a moment you're worried he might've seen you leave Anon’s house. Panic sets in when you realize he could try to hurt Anon, which only cements your choice to continue instead of turning back and potentially leading him straight to his doorstep.

As you continue to walk, you feel a faint warmth radiating from your gut, intensifying with each step you take. You take a glance downward and all you can focus on is your sweater, now dyed a deep shade of crimson, your jacket's arm an even darker, almost magenta tone. You stare in disbelief for a moment as you begin to panic, involuntarily letting out a feeble whine as feelings of lightheadedness slowly begin to creep up on you. You keel over, your wobbly legs seemingly no longer capable of supporting you. You lie on your side and curl up into the fetal position, doing your best to keep your arm pressed tight against your gut in a panicked attempt to stem the flow of blood. Despite your best efforts, it continues to spill and you can see the barest hints of steam rise from the snow once it makes contact with the rivulets of warm blood. Turning your body slightly only causes a shooting pain to race through every nerve in your body and you instinctively cough which only worsens the pain coursing through you.

You lie motionless on the concrete, a mix of a cold sweat and panic running through you. 

You mutter out to the night sky, "Oh... Anon, I'm sorry... I-i'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise... Anon... Tu me manqueras, je ne t'oublierai jamais. Veuillez ne jamais m'oublier..." 

As you sit in a puddle of your own blood, you begin to hear the familiar tone of a piano playing over the droning ringing in your ears.

Craning your neck to the source you find your phone, a single notification on it’s screen; 'Anon: Hey, Stephanie, how far are you from home? I can get dressed to walk you the rest of the way if you want. Love you ~'Non.' 

Staring at the message with heavy lidded eyes, you pull your phone closer to your chest and start fruitlessly tapping at the glowing screen, leaving nothing but smudges of your own blood on it. The glow of the screen becomes increasingly blurred as the seconds pass, only intensifying the panic you feel. Finally giving up on the task and dropping your phone into the snow, you instead focus on fighting off the overwhelming urge to sleep. You turn, pain racking your already failing body, your eyes ultimately landing on the familiar roof of your lover. As your eyes fall to the pavement you can see the trail of blood you left in the layer of snow above it. You stay hopeful and think to yourself, ‘Maybe... someone will find me in time.”

Taking one last breath you reach out and gasp out your final words before unconsciousness takes you, "J'espère que vous vous souviendrez ... de votre petite feuille, Anon..."