(A/N): ...Danny kiss...?

Your chase had led you to McAaron park, the heart of Ashboro- The gardens were gigantesque, with neatly-trimmed hedges and overflowing flower beds and a grand fountain in the center. During the day the place would be warm, lively, loud and brimming with colour, but now as the night fell the colours had been smothered and replaced with the golden glow of of the street lights. The evening was cold, chilled winds nipping at your nose and cheeks and drawing out a ripple of goosebumps over the surface of your skin. You hugged yourself tightly, pausing at the mouth of the path that would guide your feet into the gardens, wondering if Danny had even come this way. Taking in a slow, icy breath and letting it out in a deep sigh, you started forwards. Ten minutes had passed since you had initially left the bowling alley to follow after Danny. He had been quick, sneaky, slipping out of your sight almost immediately. Not wanting to go back to the hustle and bustle of the lanes to deal with the police, you had chosen to look for him, even if you had no real idea where he was. Whether you find him or not, a stroll through the park didn't seem like a terrible idea.

Walking into the parkland was like walking into another world. Silence fell around you, the chirping of distant crickets almost drowning out the quieting sirens. The branches overhead tangled and brushed together in the light breeze, rattling like bones; it wasn't an unpleasant sound. Though the temperature dropped as you walked further, you didn't mind it. You could deal with a little cold if it meant you could hold onto this strange feeling of serenity. The gold-lit flora on your either side tinged the air with a soft, sweet aroma, drawing you further and further in. A toad croaked in the distance. Your search for Danny was swept to the side for a moment, a curtain drawn over it to allow your mind to soak in the wonderful evening as you continued forwards, further into the park. A pathway broke off to your right and you took it, head tilting back to look up at the snippets of star-riddled sky you could catch through the trees. All at once you could make out the distant bubble of water; you knew it wouldn't be the fountain, since that would be to your left, back down the main path you'd just stepped off of, but the thought occurred that it could be a stream and that sounded just as nice. Placing your feet down as quietly as you could, you walked on, head turned in the direction of the bubbling. Through the trees and the underbrush on the edges of the path you noticed the rippling of water, the yellow-hued lamps casting their glow down onto it's swift-moving surface. A smile melted onto your face, the last of your stress easing out of your features. Ahead, you could see the path veering yet again to the right, directly to the water's edge. You listened carefully to the babbling of the stream with each step you took until you came upon the corner and turned it, freezing in place as soon as you did. 

Your smile faded to be replaced by awe. Before you was an arching bridge made of a pale wood, connecting the earth on either side of the shallow stream. The water was clear and quick, dancing and sliding over a bed of small rocks. There were no fish, but there was a log caught on the edge of the streambed that housed a sleek toad. Above the stream glittered a sea of stars, the moon bathing the scene in silver. It was breathtaking. Stepping onto the bridge, you made for the railing, extending your hands to set them on it's smooth surface. With the sky a dark blue and the air crisp and clear, you could stand here forever; it was the prettiest place you think you'd ever seen in your whole entire life. You looked closer at the toad, a smile ghosting your lips. The creature let out a slow, low croak, and you couldn't help the laugh that escaped you at the sound. A twig snapped behind you. Whipping around, you were met with the sigh of familiar golden eyes, leather jacket thrown over one arm and shirt balled up and pressed to his nose with the other. 

"I didn't say you could follow me." Danny's voice was soft and tired. He started, slow, towards you, and parked himself at your side. Setting his jacket over the railing, he sighed, leaning against it. 

"How's your face?" You hum, turning to look at him. He has a tattoo on his shoulder, a skull with a rose threaded through one eye and a snake through the other; from his bare arm your eyes threatened to trail towards his exposed chest. Pulling the shirt away from his nose you were mercifully distracted and saw the remnants of blood staining his lips, a bruise already beginning to form. With the thought of bruises on your mind you looked down at his wrist to see the bruise there was beginning to yellow. It seems Danny can't go even a day without adding another wound to his collection.

"I've been better, sweetheart, that's for sure." The shirt returned to its spot. He paused, heaving in breath, before speaking again. "Look, I'm... fuck," He winces, turning his head away, "I'm sorry, or whatever. For getting- pissed, and yelling at you."

"Woah, Danny Johnson?" You grin, letting out a laugh, "I didn't know you knew what 'sorry' meant." He scoffs, elbowing you and rolling his eyes.

"Shut the fuck up or I'll stop right here right now," He warns, taking a step back and dropping to his knees. You step back too, watching as he pulls the shirt away from his face and reaches through the rungs of the bridges railing to soak his shirt in the running water, "I was stupid, or irrational, or angry or- whatever. I lost my temper," Danny is mumbling now, ashamed. He pulls the shirt away again, stands up, and wrings it out. You see the muscles in his arms flex and look away, hating your stupid brain for the weird flippy thing that your stomach is suddenly doing. "I didn't mean to lash out and..." His face twists into a grimace, and the shirt is replaced to cover the way he frowns. "I hope you'll... forgive me. Ugh. Yuck." He takes his place leaning against the railing again, and so do you. 

"Well..." You pause for dramatic effect, as if seriously thinking it over, "Fine. I'll forgive you." Danny sighs, relieved, "BUT," now he's looking at you dead in the eye, brows furrowed, "You have to let me clean your stupid face up. I feel bad for getting you into that shit in the first place." You reach for the bloodied shirt, now ice-cold, but he doesn't yet hand it to you. 

"I can't make you do that, sweetheart, you've got nothing to feel bad for." 

"Danny, don't be a dick. Just let me do this one stupid thing for you." Danny only hesitates for one more second before caving, making sure you grabbed the cleanest part of the article. Then, he leaned closer, bending his knees just slightly to look at you eye-level. "That jackass really fucked you up, huh?" You say with a laugh devoid of humour, beginning to swipe away the drying blood. The cut on his cheek has almost stopped bleeding, but his nose sure hasn't, and his knuckles were blistered and oozing scarlet all the same. 

"Nah, I've gotten worse," Danny focuses intensely on anything but you. You do the same. "I've gotten broken noses, a broken wrist- I broke three of my fingers once, too." You're about to answer and then he interjects, "Oh! And I got stitches in the back of my head. Got it slammed in a car door. Yikes."

"Yeah," You hiss through your teeth, cringing at the thought of a car door coming down on your head, "Yikes indeed." You swipe the last of the blood away, pulling the rag away to assess the situation. It seemed to you like Danny was irritating the wounds with how hard he was pressing; your gentle touch has coaxed the cut on his cheek to stop bleeding, and his nose was tapering off now too. Setting the shirt over the railing beside his jacket, you took his chin in your hands, tilting his head so that the light hit his face to showcase the wounds, giving you a better look at them; his light stubble scratched at the pads of your thumb and forefinger. You tried not to focus on it. Leaning close to get the best look possible, you narrowed your eyes, moving his head this way and that. He let out a sigh and his breath puffed across your face, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps over your skin. Your eyes flicked up to his and caught them; he had been staring. Suddenly, it felt like you weren't getting enough oxygen. You and him were close. So close. With each breath he took you smelt the distant scent of mint and vanilla. Your lungs went empty and stars glittered in your head, growing foggy. Distant. His eyes were so warm, so safe, golden, beautiful-

The toad croaks. 

You both break away from one another, your palms sweating, the cold racing across your sweat-dampened skin. "Uh- your face looks good- no, no like your cut, the one on your cheek-" You lift your own finger to touch at your own cheek and he nods his head, swallowing hard.

"Yeah, yeah it'll be okay now. Thanks. All good," Danny holds out a thumbs up and you see the blood on his hands. That should be dealt with next, and you can do that just fine since you don't have to look so close at his face, at those eyes, you don't have to smell the mint and vanilla of his breath that you know would taste wond- Okay, (Y/N), enough of that. You cut off your train of thought, clearing your throat and picking up the bloodied shirt again. 

"Give me your hands, I can clean them quick and then you can go home, or... whatever." 

"That's- yeah, okay." There's tension between the two of you so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. You take one of his hands in yours, feeling the surprising softness of his palm and the calloused surface of his fingers. Your brain is fixating on him, everything about him, and you need to snap out of this stupid trance. You're shaken up, shocked, still startled by the fight. You're not thinking straight. You begin to dab at his knuckles, hearing him hiss out in pain at the contact. Concerned, you tilt your head up to look at him again and fuck are the two of you close. With one of his hands in your own, held close enough to inspect, he's right there, standing more vulnerable than you've ever seen him. You're feeling lightheaded now and focus on taking in deep breaths. "Thank you, honey." Danny speaks in a soft tone that makes your face warm up. You just nod and plead for him to be quiet before you do something stupid. "I... I'm glad you're not mad at me. You..." He chuckles dryly, and shakes his head. With one hand cleaned, you move onto the next. "You're not as terrible as I always say you are. I'm just... stupid, and don't know how to... well, how to do anything. I'm a shit person." 

"No, you're not," You console, and lift your head for only a second before remembering he's so close, "Not everyone is a natural people-person. Not everyone likes everyone. I don't really mind that you hate me, I'll live."

"No, no, but- I don't hate you. That's what I'm saying." You've finished cleaning his other hand. Your interest is piqued, and as he continues, his hand still in yours, you can't help but look up at him again. "You... Well, you're fine. You're fun, and kind and- you're not just some bitch like everyone else in this town is. You're not some big-city freak only here to pick on everyone. You're genuine, and honest." The tension is thicker now, tied between you and Danny and tightening by the second, drawing the both of you together. "I've never been good at... at making friends..." He opens his mouth to continue speaking, and then lets it fall slowly shut again as the words escape him. His breath, mint and vanilla, fans across your face. Your lips are moving closer to his own, and he's doing the same. Closer. your breath is slipping away, the fogginess in your head blocking out all rational thought. The warmth in his eyes is mesmerizing, and, as you move closer, closer, you let your own eyes fall shut. Danny is right there, his lips mere atoms away from your own- you can feel the heat coming off of him, hear the beating of his heart. The hand holding your own holds tighter, warmer, safer. For the quickest second, the briefest moment where you say fuck it, I'm going to kiss Danny Johnson, you feel like you're on top of the goddamn world; 

and then, the toad croaks. The croak of that toad brings sudden clarity. You and Danny leap away from one another in tandem, faces red, cold forgotten, humiliation burning through you and shame through the other. 

"I-" You croak out, one hand reaching up to scratch at the back of your neck. Danny nods and grabs his jacket, throwing it over his shoulders and zipping it hastily up. He grabs his ruined shirt as well.

"Well, thank you," Danny mumbles, his head low and his ears glowing red, "I'll... I'll see you around. Get home safe." And, with that, he leaves you to cool off in peace.

It seems like you aren't getting back to your friends in time for your next turn.

(A/N): :)