Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans.

I know she hates me for it. I can see it in her eyes, her cold violet eyes, so like my own. I can see it every time we pass each other in the hallway, every night she sees me, every night I slip away and use her spells to get inside his home.

But she doesn't know. She doesn't know exactly what happens behind closed doors, what happens when I tell myself that I won't go to him anymore; what happens when he turns his fiery blue gaze on me. I know I love him, and I think he loves me. He's so...different when I'm with him. When he doesn't have to put on the armor, the mask, the facade of lies and trickery. To me, that doesn't matter. To her, it does. It matters. He's the one she and her friends have fought for so long, the one who was Trigon's messenger in the Dark Time, and the one to aid the destruction of the world.

I tell myself that I should stop going to him. But I can't. Just being around him is addictive. He's a kindred spirit. I tried to explain this to her, but she didn't listen. So I'll keep seeing him, talking to him, healing him, among other things, things I won't tell her.

But she hates me for it. Hates me for loving a mercenary, a criminal, a thief. But every time he touches me, my knees turn to liquid. I can't breathe around him, and I can't bring myself to say anything to displease him, and I really don't know why. And I need to be around him, for some reason. I don't know why.

"Arella," he says softly, turning to look at me.

When he sees it is me, he smiles as much as he allows himself to, and walks to where I'm standing. Folding the hood of my white cloak back, I look into his face, a face that I wasn't allowed to see for the longest time, the handsome face he hid under that mask from the world and from me.

"How are you?" I murmur, as he reaches out to embrace me.

"I'm surviving, my dear," he says against my hair, "When are you going to come live with me?"

I force myself to reply.

"Raven needs me."

He doesn't say anything and I wonder if he's angry.

He's tall and I only come up to his shoulder. Leaning down, he takes my chin and tilts it up so that our lips make contact. I can tell that he's missed me by the fierceness of his kiss, the way he crushes me against him, and the way his hands have already found the clasp of my robe.

"Come to bed with me," the mercenary murmurs against my throat, and he can tell by the way my knees give way that I can't refuse him.

I let him pick me up like a young bride and he kicks the door shut behind us, eliminating any chance that I might have gone back to see my daughter this night.

So I'm sorry, Raven, my daughter. I'm sorry I love your enemy. I'm sorry I love Slade, too.