You bite the bullet and ask him to be quiet...!

You can’t step out or you’ll be seen for sure. Best to take your chances here and see if you can’t convince him to "share" this spot for a while. Unsure exactly what to say, you try your best to get this stranger’s attention without spooking him.

“Sssh, yes, hello, I’m here. Just- be... be quiet…! Please…!” you whisper sharply.

It’s silent, the figure now completely still. The only sounds are the voices of the men outside and the throbbing in your head as you hold your breath. Your stare into the dark, willing your eyes to adjust even more. You wonder if they fell back asleep. Perhaps they-

The shuffling began again and you let your breath escape in surprise. Grunting and moaning, you watch as the figure sits up and… you’re unsure if they’re looking at you - their frame the only thing visible in the near-darkness.

“The hell...? Who are you?” they whisper.

Some minor form of relief washes over you that they haven’t immediately turned hostile or be some deranged lunatic. It was definitely a male voice. They sounded older than you but you’re not sure if they were in their 30’s or perhaps even in their 40’s. By their timbre they sounded… portly? You’re not sure how much of the outline you’re seeing is newspaper, clothing, or him.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know anyone was here. I’m just trying to hide from the men outside.” You reply in a hush.

Honesty was usually the best policy… and what else were you going to say? You don’t exactly have many options and scrambling for a half-baked justification didn’t seem like the brightest move. You’re waiting for a response when, instead of a voice, you're met with a sudden hand on your arm. You jump at first, but manage to refrain from knocking into anything or hurting yourself. You expected them to pull it back, but find that it keeps exploring, the hand quickly resting on your chest.

“H-hey…!” you hiss, lightly smacking it.

“Oh, right… a girl...” the voice quietly responds as he withdraws his hand.

You’re thankful that he has enough respect to pull his hand away - things could’ve gone much worse by this point. Still… letting him cop a bit more of a feel might not have been so bad - you imagine it’s probably been so long for him since he last had anyone to hold or touch. You wonder what happened in his life to drive him to such a state…

You “watch” as he throws his makeshift blanket aside. More moaning and groaning as you hear him shift his weight when you’re suddenly caught off guard as his breath hits your face. It was not a pleasant smell, to say the least, the man probably not having brushed in a few weeks, or longer. You’d back up if you could, but you had nowhere to retreat to. You're starting to wonder if he's already made up his mind to let you stay, but you become worried when this dark stranger let’s out a long “Hmmm”…