You sigh as you swipe your bus pass in the turnstile and look for an empty seat. The bus is crowded today. You had a long shift at the convenience store where you work and your feet are so wrecked you can't even feel them anymore.

You find an empty spot and promptly sink down onto the seat, putting your bag in your lap and massaging your ankles.

"Long day?"

You look up at the sound of the voice. A man in a business suit is smiling at you. He looks to be in his mid-thirties. His hair is graying around his temples.

"Ah, you could say that." You give him a polite smile.

The man turns in his seat to face you, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. "You know what's good for soreness?" he asks, his smile widening into a grin. "A massage." He reaches toward your ankle.

You draw back, your heart skipping a beat. "Oh, no thank you," you murmur. "I'm fine."

"C'mon! I'm almost certified!" He reaches for you again.

At that moment, a boy you don't recognize slides into the seat across from you. He forces the man to draw back.

"Sorry I'm late," the boy murmurs, smiling at you. "I almost missed the bus. How was your day?"

It takes you a second to realize what he's doing, but you quickly fall into his pace. He engages you in quiet conversation, completely cutting off the strange man from before.

After a few minutes you make it to your stop. You give your seat-mate a grateful smile.

The next day is the same as the previous one. The business man-slash-"masseuse" from yesterday shoots you a dirty look. You roll your eyes and claim your seat.

The boy that rescued you gets on the bus at the next stop. He gives you a small smile and looks at the business man. "Keeping your hands to yourself, pal?"

The business man's face turns a bright red and he sputters before busying himself with a newspaper on the chair beside him.

You giggle, and the boy catches your eye. He gives you a nod when his stop comes.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

As the days pass, you learn a bit more about the boy. His name is Namjoon, he works at a restaurant, and he's a year older than you. You get along pretty well, and you begin to look forward to your daily bus commute.

It's raining today. The bus is even more crowded than usual for some reason. You can't even find a place to sit! You have to settle for standing until your stop. You fight for elbow room, clutching your purse as tightly as you can. You hear a voice next to your ear and your heart skips a beat.

"Crowded today, huh?" The voice is gruff. "Lucky for me." The man behind you grabs your butt.

You bristle and try to step away from him. However, because the bus is so crowded, you're unable to get very far.

You begin to panic as it feels like people are closing in on you. Your eyes fill with tears, and that's when you see him.

Namjoon meets your eye from the back of the bus. You didn't even notice him before now. He must see something in your expression because he immediately elbows his way toward you. "Hey, baby." His voice is cool and calm. He gently takes your wrist and pulls you to him.

The man behind you, however, grabs the strap of your purse and keeps you in place. At this, Namjoon's whole demeanor changes. His face darkens, as if a storm cloud has passed over it. "Let go of her. Now."

The man doesn't appear fazed at all. "What," he drawls, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "You think a little scrawny punk like you is scary? Me and my soldiers eat kids like you for breakfast. We send wimps like you home crying to their mothers."

"Yeah?" Namjoon takes a step closer to the man. "My mother's dead. Please tell her hello for me when we're done here."

Before you can blink, Namjoon has lunged at the man behind you; you duck right before his fist crashes into the man's forehead. The man reels back, his eyes wide with surprise. Other passengers cry out.

The bus jerks to an unexpected stop. The bus driver, an older man with sagging jowls and a permanent frown creating deep creases in the lines of his face, gets up from his seat at the front of the bus and hustles over to Namjoon and the other man. "What is wrong with you young people?! Can't you see that people have places to be?! Get your sorry butts off now!" He points a gnarled, shaking finger towards the bus's exit.

You look at Namjoon. He's still shooting daggers at the man that grabbed your butt. After a tense moment, he looks down at you. "Are you alright?"

You can't find your voice, so you wordlessly nod.

Namjoon's gaze softens for a brief second, then it regains its steely edge as he looks up at everyone. He pulls you to his side. "He was harassing her. I had to help. I'm sorry I caused a scene, but I couldn't just stand back."

The bus driver sighs before he looks at the other man. "Get off."

The man's face flushes a deep and ugly purple. He growls as he spins around to face the rest of the passengers that are giving him dirty looks. He curses before he stalks off the bus.

Namjoon takes your hand and leads you to the back of the bus. The bus slowly starts up again. People look at you and Namjoon, but after Namjoon shoots them a death glare, they look away.

"Oh my God," you whisper. Your breathing comes out in rough hitches as you bury your face in your hands.

Namjoon puts his arms around you. You clutch his shirt in your fists, and try to fight back the sobs. "It's alright," he murmurs. "You're okay. Go ahead and cry if you need to."

You hide your face in his chest and weep. "He grabbed me. I know it's stupid to cry, but..."

"No." Namjoon cups his hand against the back of your head. "It's not stupid." After a beat, he speaks again. "I'm sorry I almost got you kicked off the bus."

Despite the situation, you smile. "Thank you, Namjoon."

Namjoon holds you until your stop comes. He puts an arm around your shoulders and leads you off the bus. He hurries you through the rain, holding your umbrella over your head.

You give him directions to your house and he walks you to your front door. You wrap your arms around him. "Thank you."

He grins, ducking his head bashfully. "I did what anyone would've done. There's no need to thank me." He takes a step back, and walks away from you.

You smile at his back and move to open your front door. When you look up again, Namjoon is turning back around to face you. "Sorry," he murmurs. "If you ever need anything, here's my number." He steps under the awning of your front porch and hands you a slip of paper.

You take it, then shoot him an amused smirk. "You had your number already written in your pocket for me? Or would you have given it to another girl?"

He chuckles. "It was for you. I would've given it to you sooner or later."

You put the slip of paper in your pocket. "I'll text you."

Namjoon grins. "You're not just saying that, are you? Please tell me you're going to go inside, put my number in your phone and actually hit me up later."

You giggle. "I will, I promise."

Namjoon heads back down your sidewalk; he raises his hand in farewell before calling over his shoulder: "I'll be waiting!"

Aww I liked this one! I hope you enjoyed it!