DISCLAIMER/WARNING : This is a Robin/OC fanfiction. (slow burn) - It's rated T for language, and possible sensitive/triggering topics in the future. Please give this story and my OC time to develop, nothing come in a blink of an eye. I don't own anything except my OC. (sadly) - Enjoy!
And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me"
I can't help this awful energy
God damn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?
• Halsey - Control •
Moon Child
Prologue
Girls Night Out
GOTHAM CITY
June 25, 2010
23:17 EDT
"That's a very bad idea."
The intrepid blonde didn't even bother to look at her, her eyes focused on the group of men arguing lower.
"I count at least ten." She replied as if she hadn't heard the whisper coming from behind.
After an umpteenth look through her pair of binoculars - and an unpleasant sensation of two silver-blue eyes burning holes in the back of her head - she finally turns around, the intense glare diving directly into her nuances of dark grey.
"Don't you dare glare at me like that," she claimed, "You look like Batman. It sent chills down my spine."
"I didn't know that you and the Dark Knight were so close," the petite young girl raised an eyebrow in disbelief, gazing down at the archer well soon back to her observation task. "And how could you even know if Batman glares at you, he wears a mask. Remember." Duh.
"Believe me. I saw this gaze intended to others these last few weeks. When Batman glares at you, you know it."
She stared at her for a long time before saying, "Arty... you speak like an old lady."
"Roxy... you act like an old lady."
Roxanne slapped her on the arm while insisting on each syllable, the blonde responding immediately with the same gesture. "DON'T call me that." It was kinda childish, but neither of them really cared.
She only uses this surname to get on her nerves. And it worked pretty well, as always.
"I'm not sure that fighting like little kids on the playground is the wisest choice right now. Let's keep that for later, you wanna?" Artemis argued with a tone similar to a mother gently reprimanding her child, a self-satisfied smirk on her face after making her pass so quickly from worry to irritation.
"You know what, you're right. But we should really— "
The blonde suddenly looked her, amused. "Did I heard wrong, or you just say I was right?"
She opened her mouth, ready to continue as if she hadn't been interrupted, but instead shut it into a thin straight line.
Why and how has it come to this, already? Oh yeah, that's right. She was arguing with Artemis Crock, aka the most opinionated, most stubborn, most challenging person she had ever met. Once again.
All she could remember about this early evening was a blonde tornado loaded with adrenaline passing through her window, quivering and breathing as if she had just run a marathon, a hoodie in the hand. It was rare to see Artemis in such a state. She was usually so calm, confident, sassy... unshakeable. A grave. She and she alone decides what and when to share or show something about herself.
Roxanne knew right away that something big was going on. What a euphemism...
To be honest, she was still trying to understand how what it was supposed to be a quiet girls night could turn as fast into a ''let's get out and go kick some villain asses'' hunt.
Roxanne was, of course, not necessarily happy with her recent hobby for crimefighting. But on the other hand, it didn't surprise her that much. Artemis has always fiercely proclaimed wanting to trace her own path, the farthest possible from the one chosen by her parents. And what's the biggest opponent of a villain... a hero, obviously.
A nocturnal whim that had gone from dream to reality in a very short time. As soon as her mother came back home, actually...
That's why she couldn't refuse the offer earlier that night. Not after seeing the dark and determinate gleam in her eyes. And certainly not after seeing all these disgusting images scrolled in her mind after having taken the sleeve of the clothes between her pale fingers.
Artemis would NEVER ask her to use her, talents... if she hadn't judged it absolutely necessary. She was the only one who knew how much she hated it.
And this was definitely not something unnecessary.
The owner of the hoodie was a piece of puzzle way larger than a usual gang of young thugs, as Artemis had already guessed to have followed him for weeks now...
Human trafficking. Women trafficking, especially. Tones of women kidnapped and sold as vulgar pieces of meat.
She suppressed a wave of persistent nausea to this thought, promptly brought back to reality by the voice of her ally.
"There is movement." She noticed in a whisper while adjusting her binoculars, magnifying the lens so she can see the faces more closely.
This was not the plan.
They were supposed to track and find the bad guy, call the police and wait for their arrival before disappearing. Not to rush without thinking straight ahead. Two stubborn teenage girls against a dozen armed men... that's foolishness.
So that's why Roxanne was standing here. On the roof of an abandoned warehouse near the docks, still praying for a miracle that would bring Artemis back to reason.
The thing is, she didn't believe in miracles.
And her dear blonde was obviously not about to make her change her mind.
Speaking of the devil...
She knew she didn't even have to watch when she heard Artemis's breath cut. "It's him."
Dragos Ibanescu.
One of Gotham's royal roots. At the head of a small empire as diverse as dogfights, prostitution, and human trafficking.
Her jaw clenched. Not because she was irritated - after all, she was used to the wild temperament of her sister by heart - but because being here seemed more and more like a really bad idea. Especially now that things visibly starting to fester. Angry, loud, male voices filled the fresh silent night, drawing all the attention of the archer who jumped to her feet in a blink of an eye.
It was going to turn to drama. She could feel it in her bones.
"I have a bad feeling."
"We have to—"
She quickly wrapped her hand around Arty's wrist before she could go anywhere else. The intrepid blonde bowed her head, Roxanne's steel gaze cutting her off. "Artemis, don't."
"But—"
Her voice was more confident now, less anxious. "He is surrounded by an army of big armed-monkeys. What do you think you'll do, ask them for forgiveness to clear your way to Dragos before telling him that he is under arrest? That's just sheer insanity." Her stern gaze became softer, and her voice followed suit. "Arty... being a hero is one thing, but committing a suicide mission is another." The blonde had a gold heart, for sure. But she also had the gift of being a burnt head.
She let out a long sigh, her eyelids closing for a second. There were no more jokes anymore... it was serious. Artemis knew that it was incredibly irresponsible and stupid. But she just couldn't help herself.
She opened her eyes to find her concerned face in front of hers, using her affectionate nickname this time. "I know Rox, I listen... truly. And you're right, but... what if we let this dirty sort get arrested before we know if there are girls locked up somewhere around here? It would take days for the cops to make him talk." And this, if he came to speak.
Roxanne's stomach squeezing at the memory. Among the horrible flashes that had crossed her mind, those of women trapped in what appeared to be a container came back several times - she could still feel their despair in the depths of her belly, floating like bubbles.
The thing was that they couldn't know if these ''visions'' belonged to a past event or something current.
And there was only one way to find out.
"I just—" Artemis quickly shook her head. "...I can't accept that." She can't get so close to the goal to leave a doubt like this.
And her ally either.
She was right - Roxanne knew, no matter what, that none of them could live with that. Living with this unanswered question floating in the air, always wondering if they could have done more.
Saving lives. Not just protecting theirs in the first place.
For a moment, they forgot where they were and just stared into each other's eyes.
Sisters by heart as partners in crime. Since their first day at elementary school where Artemis had punched that little devilish boy who gave her miseries - until that night at home where she had come proudly to show her the costume she had designed and created herself.
FLASHBACK – LACROIX'S HOUSE
Her silver-blue eyes were dancing with amusement as the archer slammed her hands on her hips, her fingertips tapping on her hip bones. "So, what do you think?"
Roxanne ran her hand through the fur of the black Eurasier using her thigh as a pillow, studying her for a long moment.
It was colored in various shades of green and consisted of a mask extending from the hairline to the cheekbones, a sleeveless top with a stylized arrow tip on the front, fingerless gloves, pants with black knee pads, and black combat boots.
She had to admit it, the costume perfectly highlighted her build.
"Well, it's... uh," she answered hesitantly as she looked over the outfits. "Green."
Artemis saw a state of uncertainty in her eyes. Distasteful. Did she really think it looked that bad? But just like that, the uncertainty was gone and she smiled mischievously.
"Come on Arty," A light laugh escaped from her throat. "You're lookin' hella badass."
BACK TO PRESENT – GOTHAM CITY
She would never have thought that Artemis was so good with needles.
"I know we can do it, you and I," the blonde said fiercely. "Together."
There was no room for doubt.
"Let's cut the cheesiness right away," She muttered with a sigh, back to her feet in defeat. "At least, I would have heard you say once in my life that I was right before I died. Not that bad."
Turning the heels, she glanced back at Roxanne and smiled mischievously. "Don't get used to it."
"Pour l'amour de Dieu." For God's sake.
GOTHAM CITY
June 25, 2010
23:25 EDT
Inhale courage, Exhale fear.
She repeated this in her head, mantra-style, as she gave herself a mental shake.
I can do this, she thought. And even if I can't, I have to.
After coming down from the roof and finally called the police, the duo had managed to make their way into the warehouse.
There was no need to have an excellent hearing to notice that the tone climbed the ladder in the negotiation. The man standing in front of Dragos seemed rather unhappy, pointing his finger at the old man's chest - or at least, that's what Roxanne imagined, not close enough to see properly.
When Artemis pivoted, she saw that three large men stood in a row not ten feet away. It's now or never. She judged. The growing tension was a perfect diversion.
By measuring the distance between the police station and the docks, they had about ten minutes to act.
The archer flashed to her right, sharing a last look with her ally. They both nod before the archer disappears behind the container.
Roxanne shut her eyes for a moment, letting her head fall against the cool, hard metal behind her as she inhaled softly.
She pushed everything deep inside until the suffocating buzzing was no more than a bearable whistling ; the echo of the loud voices, the feeling of anger hovering in the air, the contagious adrenaline of Artemis that made her legs weak and even her own concerns. She clenches her fists and her eyelids slowly opened - an opaque, cloudy veil now darkened her irises, removing the intense shades of blue normally visible.
I'm in control.
"That was not the deal!"
Dragos lowered his head to his chest, almost as if he wanted to check if his finger didn't leave a stain on his immaculate white shirt. "Luis, my friend... the deal was that you had to bring me the account for Friday. And the deadlines weren't respected." With a wicked chuckle, he readjusted his tie, his Romanian accent as calm as possible. "So the deal's off."
"You have no idea of who I am," snarled Luis. Suddenly, a men bear alike – due to his size and stature - placed himself in front of Dragos, preventing the so-called Luis from approaching again. "No one fucks me, geezer! No one." He exclaimed.
Then, two other men approaching the Mexican from behind, the scene comparable to a parade of intimidation as one we could see in the wild when two wolf packs fight for a territory. Men...
"What the hell is that?!" All the glances turned around as a mist darker than night slowly creeping through the warehouse, encircled them. Some of Luis brutes passed their hands through the thick mass as if they wanted to make it disappear, in vain, the suffocating darkness gradually separating individuals.
Groans of pain and hits noises came from nowhere as loud Spanish curses filled the air.
Dragos raised an eyebrow, reaching into his left jacket pocket.
Luis had been faster, having already released his loaded revolver. The Mexican was trying to keep in touch with his men, yelling in his native language while his gaze was everywhere, moving fast to find the imminent threat. "El murciélago, ¡disparame ese murciélago!"
Of course, they were going to think of The Dark Knight, we were in Gotham after all.
He heard an arrow whizzed through the air, and then nothing. Nothing more than the echo of a gunshot resonating in the huge void, quickly followed by the sound of a heavy body crumbling lifeless against the grimy concrete.
Roxanne felt as if she had been hit directly in the chest by Superman.
The painful and oh-so-familiar feeling forced her to go down on bended knee, one hand savagely clutching her heart while the other was resting on the floor, searching for support.
Her ears whistled, eyes blinded by the tears that threatened to spill over. "Oh no... no, no, no... please, please not that again."
Her whole body was shaking and she couldn't have a fucking control over it. It almost feels like she had a panic attack, but it wasn't. And for once in her entire life, she would have preferred.
Clenching her jaw, her fingers turned white under pressure. The veil was long gone now, black spots beginning to invade her view and she knew that she would faint if she didn't recover quickly.
She let out a fragile breath as if she finally remembered how to breathe.
"Breathe," she heard whispering, and she couldn't tell if it was from her subconscious or god knows what else. And to be honest, she didn't care. It was not the time to fall apart. She needed to find Artemis. No... she needed to find her, alive. That's all that mattered at the moment. "Control."
She forced herself to inhale and exhale several times, minutes scrolling at full speed, being, in reality, a handful of seconds. Freaking painful and endless seconds. The dark spots in front of her eyes slowly faded away as she regained a proper breathing.
Once the sensation was bearable, she just ignored everything else.
With a heave she was up, stumbling in her tentative before stabilizing herself.
She mentally cursed all those action movies that described adrenaline as an invulnerability serum, making you as fast and agile as a cheetah. Bullshit. At this moment, she had nothing of a feline. She just looked like Bambi on ice.
Without a second thought, she sank through darknesses she had herself created, embracing them like a second skin.
She adjusted the hood on her head as she followed the din, trusting her instinct while still making sure not to get too close. Leaning against one of the containers, she leaned over to have a better overview.
And that's when she saw him.
Dragos stood there, into the darkness, staring blankly at the lifeless body of the Mexican. He still had a lethal grip on the gun now pointing to the ground, his expression deadlier than the weapon.
"Shoot the others," He ordered. "We cannot take the risk of letting one of this rats talk." He turned his head to the man built like a brick shithouse to his left, the others already disappeared into obscurity to execute the orders.
"Respect for ancients isn't what it used to be," A cold smile curved their lips. His attention then returned to Luis's dead body lying at his feet, lingering on the gaping bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. There was no regret, no empathy in his voice. No emotions, at all. "We're outta here."
Roxanne felt a wave of relief overwhelmed her ; soon followed by a hint of guilt. She was relieved to see that it wasn't Artemis's body that was lying there on the floor, but at the same time, she felt bad about being so pleased with the death of a man.
"Well, well, well... look what we have here," Focused on the scene she didn't pay attention, gasping when a strong hand wrapped around her throat, slamming her against the rusty metal. "You're lost, little mouse?"
A rush of panic crossed the body of the young lady as he reached out his other hand to lower the hood way too large for her head.
It was getting harder and harder to breathe, stifling with the oppressive aura of intimidation that acted as a vise between their bodies. Flashes invading her mind without her permission and a feeling of pure anger began to grow in her.
"Don't. Touch. Me." A mocking laugh escaped the abuser's throat who gave her as much credibility as a kitten sticking out his claws.
It was before he realized that claws could burn. In the literal sense.
Clenching her teeth, Roxanne squeezed her hand around the wrist that was holding her hostage, a sensation of warmth caressing her pale fingers.
"Motherfucker!" The big man swore by painfully gripping the burn marking his skin, releasing momentarily his grip. And she didn't waste time taking advantage of it.
With a courage she didn't know herself, she forcefully threw a knee that came banging against his crotch, causing him to growl in suffering.
It sounds as painful as it says... She could not believe it had worked.
"Bitch, you'll pay—"
Fletchings whisper cut him off before he can finish his sentence. Roxanne stepping back as the two arrows pinned him roughly by his clothes, face against the neighboring container.
The feminine silhouette of the archer standing high a few meters away, relaxing her bow before jumping in a hurry to join her.
"Oh my god Rox you okay?!" A hint of panic tinged Artemis's voice, making her aura wobble in all directions. She swore that the grip she had on her shoulder was more deadly than that of Mr. noble language - still trapping like a greedy mouse in a trap at a safe distance now.
The petite girl suddenly embraces her, holding the blonde in her arms for a second before moving away at the speed of a draft.
"I'm good," She expired. "But no time for worries, Dragos is going to flee, we have to intercept him before."
Artemis nodded before arming her arch, leading the way. The archer already knocked out three-fourths of the men present, the rest now engaged in a giant "hide-and-seek-AND-kill" game, gunshots firing from time to time in the air.
"Let's finish this." Roxanne whispered, the dark, cloudy veil reappearing in her eyes, the trembling in her voice now long gone.
The blonde smirked. It was the last straight line.
Quickly she rolled over, sprang to her feet and stood ready to shoot as the darkness suddenly vanished in front of her, like a flame blown by the wind.
She found herself facing a beefy man's back, leaving him barely time to turn as an arrow whiz toward him, making him drop the gun he was about to point at her.
Kicking him right in the face with her foot, it was not long for the archer to knock him out. They might have been strongly built, without their weapons they clearly couldn't compete with Arty's skills.
The girl hidden under her hood froze as another figure she recognized as that of one of Dragos' henchmen emerged from the shadows, just behind Artemis.
The blonde turned in time to see the man drop his gun and swear out loud, painful redness dyeing his fingers. Hitting him hard, she left him no mercy as his heavy body collapsed against the concrete floor. Ouch...
Arty nods at her, a look of determination on her face as her ally smiled lightly.
The two teenage girls ran until the silhouette of Dragos is in sight, the archer stopping abruptly in her race to shoot an arrow in his direction.
When she saw what she presumed to be the bodyguard of the Romanian crimelord fall to the ground, trapped by a net, Roxanne took the opportunity to disappear from the view.
The blonde was soon to do the same after seeing the somber mist wrap around Dragos as a trap, blocking any chance of escape.
Clenching his teeth, the white-haired man took a few steps back.
"Nowhere to run Ibanescu," He froze for a second before starting to smirk at the sound of the female voice coming from above, a vicious grimace distorting his features. "You're trapped like a rat."
He looked up at Artemis who was now standing on top of one of the containers, her bow loaded and ready for action.
"I have to admit," The grin on his lips only grew a little more as he saw the other assailant appear out of the corner of his eye, watching her stop a few feet from him behind his tinted glasses. "You're not the duo I was expecting to see."
Seriously, Batman again...
"Where are the girls." The archer's tone was deadly, not paying attention to his remark.
"I don't see what you're talking about, young lady," He answered, visibly amused. "You should put it before you hurt yourself."
Artemis sent a death stare in his way, the grip on her bow only hardening. One could clearly read contempt in his voice. Roxanne couldn't tell if it was just because he was relieved to not have to face the Dark Knight, or if he was just a misogynist bastard. Surely both, she decided.
Then she paid more attention, his aura becoming thus more and more distinct. The faded colors floated around his body with little vigor. Dark red - arrogance, tyranny, love of power. Dark orange - egocentrism, unstable. Black - violence.
Focusing on his chest for a moment, she could see all the colors mix to form a dirty shade of brown. Lie. Predictable.
"He lies." It might seem silly to say it out loud since they already all knew the answer, but it was the question that made all the difference. Artemis had asked him where the girls were, in the present moment, and Dragos's lie only confirmed what they feared earlier. There were indeed human beings locked up somewhere, but where...
The liar's eyes felt on Roxanne after she spoke for the first time.
She didn't flinch as she could feel his gaze lingering on her body, finally returning to her face carefully hidden behind the thick fabric.
"I presume it's up to you that we owe this little trick," He grinned, clearly trying to save time. And maybe even play a little mind game. He didn't take the duo seriously. His mistake. "Pretty impressive."
"You were asked where the girls were. We will not ask for a third time." Roxanne coldly answered, clearly not in the mood to make conversation. She knew that the police were going to arrive at any minute now, they had to be quick.
"Let me guess," Dragos just dodged the question, again, as if he hadn't heard. "A sister, a best friend or... your mama, maybe?"
She froze for a second, which did not escape to the man standing a few meters away from her.
His smile only widened as his tone was deeply mocking now. "Oh, here we are... Am I wrong? A big bad man took your mama and you want her back, poor little baby. But sadly, mama is not going to come home."
Artemis looked away at her ally, rigid and silent, not able to see the dawn of the smirk who was forming on her lips under the hood.
He was so self-confident. She could almost feel pity for him... almost. There was no mercy left for his kind. This bastard wanted to play on emotions, trying to enter into her head... good. They could be two to play this game, and something told her that he was going to regret knowing what it was like to be inside her mind.
"No, you're right. Mama is not going to come home..." Her voice was flat, showing no emotion. "But you neither."
The Romanian raised an eyebrow as if he was defying her.
Intense blue eyes placed their attention on the orange tinted glasses who covered his.
It didn't take long for Dragos to throw them as a harsh burning sensation teased his skin, a sound of broken glass mixing with his swearing.
The action brought a mischievous smile to the lips of the intrepid blonde.
Doubt was long gone. Her sister by heart was built for that, Artemis was sure of it.
"Come on, don't be shy..." Her voice was sassy, and Roxanne could almost feel the confidence emanating from her without even having to look at her. "Show her your eyes."
Rubbing his eyes, he blinked as he could still feel the heat under his palms.
And then she was there. Only a step away from him, her figure emerged from the darknesses in which she was hiding.
She looked directly into his eyes, and suddenly he was lost. The eyes are the windows to the soul. It couldn't be more right. He was frozen on the spot, unable to look away. And he didn't even have to meet her gaze.
He felt as if the ceiling had fallen on him. Heavy, terribly heavy. It was hard to think, hard to breathe. And that's when he heard them.
Complaints, moans, cries... an unbearable cacophony. The sound of hands striking the cold, rusty metal, begging for help resonating in his mind. Dragos's heart was racing against his ribcage as the feeling of panic began to invade him. And that was just the beginning - suffering, fear, pain, despair, agony... their feelings. It was their feeling that came crashing down on him like a brick wall.
He fell at his feet, his legs no longer supporting him.
A hand tried to cling to the teen girl's foot, but she pushed him away dryly without any regret. Everything he felt, she could feel it too. She needed to feel it herself, in the very depths of her bones to transmit it. It was a torment, but at this point, she didn't care. She felt so many things that she came to feel nothing at all. So many conflicting emotions that she was trying to bury. The after-effects will come next day...
"Do you know what we're talking about now," She was starting to feel nauseous, but she passed through it. How far can a man go down... "Do you hear them, these girls that you lock up and sell like animals... don't you feel an ounce of guilt? Of course, you don't, people like you are incapable of it."
Fingers bleached by the pressure clung to his skull like to stop the pain, a guttural groan escaping his throat while the archer remained marble behind her bow. "Make yourself a favor, speak."
"You'll hear them until you say it out loud," Roxanne stood there, unperturbed as blood began to flow from the Crimelord's nose. "Where. Are. The. Girls."
Her voice was lethal. She hated having to go so far. And she was sure that Artemis too. But on the other hand... a part of her, deeply buried, didn't.
That's exactly why she hated using that power, she didn't... she didn't want to feel that feeling, ever again. And here she was. What kind of person could feel pleasure in making another suffer? Not a good one, yeah.
She came out of her thoughts to the breathy voice of the man still kneeling in front of her feet. The calm and fun had vanished, replaced by a clear feeling of panic. "Okay... okay! 87! They are... they are in container 87, on the pier... stop this now! Just fucking stop this!"
Roxanne looked up, meeting the gaze of the archer as a silent conversation between them.
"Well, you see... it wasn't that hard." Artemis didn't waste time to shoot her arrow while the distant sound of police sirens was heard, the flashing tip sticking to the metal before another follows just after.
Dragos, now free of the influence, collapsed on the ground while a net imprisoned him, reserving him the same fate as his henchman.
Roxanne turned on her heels, one last look over her shoulder. "See you in hell."
GOTHAM CITY
June 25, 2010
23:41 EDT
The footsteps were becoming faster as the two silhouettes running breathlessly, sirens echoing behind them. They turned into an alley once they felt they were far enough, the blonde passing an arm around her ally, avoiding her to collapse on the ground while her legs were shaking uncontrollably.
"You're okay?" The archer asked her, worried. "You're bleeding." She inspected her knee where her jeans had torn, blood covering the milky skin.
"It's just a scratch," she nodded, trying to catch her breath. "Just give me time to... breathe, a little. We're not all Lara Croft here, y'know." Artemis rolled her eyes, gently spreading a few strands of hair escaped from her hood.
And then, just like this, the excitement was back. "We did it, girl, YOU did it! That was amazing!" Her lips mirrored her mood, stretching from hear to hear as she felt excitement running through her veins. Probably the backlash of adrenaline, thought Roxanne.
While Artemis was on the verge of hopping around like a child in front of a candy store, she was ready to collapse to not get up again. Life was unfair.
"You sure it will work?"
"Of course, the arrow is equipped with a recorder. All that Dragos confessed now resonates in the ears of the cops, with that, he is not about to see the light of day anytime soon." She answered as a matter of course. "And to crown it off, these girls will be saved! It's called a strike, babe." Not to mention the body... this image was going to haunt the smallest girl for a lifetime, and god knows she already had enough in reserve.
She closed her eyes for a moment, sighing of relief. Good.
She felt drunk in her emotions, there was too much to handle at once. "Don't babe me right now, I still hate you."
"Come on, you know you love me." Artemis didn't stop smiling, quite the opposite, squeezing her a little bit against her side.
Roxanne just rolled her eyes too, letting herself melt against the archer, and in her emotions at the same time, trying not to think too much about what had just happened. Just a few minutes. It couldn't hurt, right?
During their flight, the duo was completely unaware of the two presences in height, watching them disappear in a dark alley of Gotham.
"We don't follow them?"
"No," The man dressed in a black cape looked down at his protégé, emotionless, his face largely hidden by his mask. "All in good time."
It's the first time that I write a story in English, my mother tongue is French so I apologize in advance for the mistakes.
Reviews are love! ;)
- Loré.