"Come with me," orders the stranger and grabs Jordan's hand, already pulling. For a second, Jordan is so bewildered that he just goes along with it but then he remembers that one; he doesn't know this person and two; they're in a café of all things. In plain sight. Not exactly conductive to kidnappings.
So Jordan digs his feet down, accomplishing nothing, and says, "Hey, I don't fucking know you."
Mr. Stranger looks back at him, raising a light eyebrow. "Don't make a fuss, Jordan. This is important; I need you to come with me."
Jordan narrows his eyes, but he's still getting pulled out of the café by the hand, not a single person even appearing to notice it. "I'm not inclined to just go along with my own kidnapping, please and thank you. Now let go, and maybe I won't call the police on you."
"Look," Mr. Stranger says, rubbing his free hand over his eyes and sighing deeply, "I don't have time to argue with you, can you just trust that this is important?"
Why does he look like he's the one who's annoyed? Jordan tries to tear his arm free, just because he doesn't like that look, but the stranger keeps his solid hold and Jordan only ends up hurting himself. "I don't even know your name," Jordan retaliates, frowning at the other man. He's getting pulled along again, their pace brisk and just on the edge of jogging as they make their way down the sidewalk.
Cars drive noisily by on the busy road, the clouds lazily drifting over the pale blue sky. It's a sunny day, perfect whether for taking a walk in the park—which was what Jordan was doing before he went to the café and got kidnapped.
By a person who knows his name, don't think he didn't notice that.
"My name is Sebastian Reid," the man says, staring at Jordan with an uncomfortably intense dark gaze. It's almost like he expects Jordan to recognize him, but no matter how much he searches his memory, he has no recollection of this man. When Jordan makes no move to indicate recognizing, Sebastian frowns heavily and pulls harder.
They're turning into an alley now, the sound of cars eerily going quiet. It's a dirty alley, with the smell of trash lingering in the air. The high houses on both sides box it in, and the sunlight can't quite reach the ground. Jordan gulps, wondering if he shouldn't have tried to actually fight the man after all.
As soon as they're out of sight of the main road, Sebastian spins him around and Jordan feels his back heavily impact against the brick wall. He flinches, pain echoing throughout his body.
"…What?" Jordan asks, when nothing happens. He's pinned against the wall, Sebastian's large body boxing him in, arms on both sides of his head. He gulps and notices for the first time that the stranger is taller than him, and wider, too.
The man searches his eyes harshly, his eyebrows furrowed and his gaze like steel. He doesn't say anything for a moment and Jordan wonders, a little hysterically, if he's going to be punched. "We don't have much time," Sebastian finally says. He sounds tired, his gaze softening as he leans back a little. Jordan takes a deep breath, now that it no longer feels like they're close enough to kiss.
And his mind should not be going in that direction. Bad mind, have some self-control, please. Jordan doesn't so it's all up to you now, brain.
"Time for what?" Jordan asks, when it doesn't seem like Sebastian plans to say anything more.
Sebastian shakes his head, the black, fluffy hair on his head moving with the motion. It's long enough to brush his ears, and it's disheveled, as if he's pulled his hands through it multiple times. Really, Jordan is sure he would remember if he knew this person; it's not every day that he meets people this handsome.
"The world is going to fall into chaos soon, and we need to be inside then," Sebastian mutters, reclaiming Jordan's hand and pulling him away from the wall.
"Chaos? What chaos?" Jordan demands. He tries to stop, tries to get the stranger to look back at him, but it's futile. They're still walking deeper into the alleys, the twisting labyrinth quickly ensuring that he's completely lost. He doesn't recognize a single thing around him, despite the fact that he was born and raised in this city.
It disconcerts him, this unknowing.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Sebastian answers, his voice sounding a million miles away. He doesn't look back at Jordan, but the grip on his hand is secure and constantly pulling.
Jordan entertains the thought of really calling the police. His phone is in his pocket, he could easily grab it with his free hand and call, likely without the stranger even noticing. But clearly, this man is going through something and he thinks Jordan plays a part in it. He also knows Jordan somehow and while the thought stalker has blazed through his mind, he doesn't actually have any experience with any of this.
If he calls the police, then what? What happens next? The stranger hasn't hurt him, hasn't even threatened him. Jordan could have fought harder. He could have raised a fuss in the café, and maybe the man would have been spooked off. And then there's also the fact that he has no idea where they are.
He bites his bottom lip, furrowing his eyebrows. Jordan allows himself to get swept further and further away from the starting point (or so he assumes, they could just be going in circles). He allows the stranger to drag him away, and doesn't try to call the cops.
It's foolishness. It's risky. It's potentially playing with his life. But this person knows him somehow, is convinced something bad is going to happen, and Jordan wants answers. And who knows, maybe it's all a prank. One can always hope.