Juliet
Running, Juliet thought as she bolted towards the pile of crushed metal, is an odd sort of reaction to have. The Fight or Flight Response. She'd learned about it, of course, in her psychology classes, but she never thought she'd be faced with it. She never thought she'd be scared enough to need it.
But then again, when she'd heard the crunch of steel on steel and turned to see Tyler's black sedan nearly flattened, she'd screamed and started running. But not running away. Running towards it, screaming his name, tears streaming down her face. Not that she knew where they'd come from. Somewhere in her mind she wondered what category her response would fall under. Flight or Fight?
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