Layla's POV

I opened the door and spotted Warren drinking a cup of coffee, leaning against his black marble kitchen counter. He set the cup down after draining the last drop.

"You have a package." I walked towards the front door and a big black duffel bag was waiting for me. I set it down and opened it up, praying that she didn't go overboard.

It was absolutely filed to the brim with plastic Ziploc bags, each one labeled with a possible occasion and corresponding makeup. I peered through the clear plastic on a few of the bags.

None of the clothes were mine, and some still had the tags attached.

Of course she went overboard.

I sighed and zipped it back up, thinking that I could visit that when the time came. I walked back into the main room and saw that Warren had grabbed his apron, and a few hair ties were around his wrist.

"I have to go to work. Wanna come?" I nodded and grabbed my jacket and purse. He locked the door behind him, and we made our way down.

XXXXXX

The Paper Lantern was just as I remembered, dimly lit and empty except for a couple in their forties. I always wondered how they stayed afloat. Warren deposited me in the seating area and walked through the kitchen doors. He had only been gone about five minutes when I heard loud and angry voices arguing in a foreign language behind the doors. The other people left and I was all alone. The voices grew louder, and I recognized one as Warren's.

Suddenly, he came through the doors, headed straight for me. I jumped out of the booth. He was followed by about six other guys, including a few younger boys part of the wait staff and two chefs. The older men looked amused and the young guys looked as if they were waiting to have something be proven to them. Warren came to stand next to me, and started talking, gesturing toward me every once in a while.

Everyone looked at Warren like he was inferior, and a little crazy. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. The youngest kid, who looked about fifteen, took a step forward and said in perfect English, "Prove it."

Warren gave an exasperated sigh and pulled me to face him. I wound my arms around his neck automatically and he kissed me. I didn't care that he was probably trying to prove our relationship was real or something like that, or that there were six other guys staring at us from two feet away with their jaws hanging loose.

All I cared about was that I hadn't kissed him since three o' clock, and I was totally craving his lips.

I kissed him harder, and he started to become the person he was after school. His hands were almost near smoking, and I pulled away, so as to not make him reveal his powers. His eyes snapped open and his irises were red for a split second before he blinked and they settled back to stormy darkness. He put his arm around my waist and we turned back to our audience.

They were all shocked and Warren merely held a hand out. The two chefs slapped a twenty down each, and grumbled all the way back to the kitchen. The rest of the boys paid their dues, and Warren yelled to the oldest waiter.

"Thanks for covering me for the rest of the week, Luke." He laughed and grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers, and led me out into the night.

"Sorry about that hippie. They just saw you come in and didn't believe that someone as amazing as you could possibly be with me. They just needed a little persuasion." I shook my head and kissed his cheek.

"Warren, you are utterly insane." He laughed again and I climbed on the motorcycle behind him.

XXXXXX

We ended up at a park a few blocks away from his building, sitting on the swings.

Warren was asking me random questions that popped into his head. It was pretty entertaining, our system of silence for a few moments, a question out of the blue, and my unwilling answer.

"Why did you agree to the clothes? C'mon, you have to admit you like them, at least a little bit." I blushed and shook my head, gazing down at the fishnets over my pale thighs.

"No, Warren. They just...are. Don't ask about the clothes, please for the love of all that is holy."

"Lay…" He looked at me with such intensity... I couldn't help it, I cracked.

"Fine! I agreed to the clothes because one, I wanted to change my appearance to go with the whole bad girl vibe," he smirked at me. "And two, because, well, because I kind of wanted you to be okay with being seen with me in public and three, um, I may have wanted to impress you a little." I finished in a rush and felt the tips of my ears turn pink.

He laughed an actual real laugh, and threw his head back to yell as loudly as possible.

"AND SO THE TRUTH COMES OUT!" I took a step over to him and clapped my hand over his mouth.

"Shut up hothead! You're going to wake the neighbors!" I whispered angrily through gritted teeth. He smiled against my hand, and I shoved his chest before sitting back on my swing.

"Oh hippie, and all this time... Huh, I have another one. Where's your dad?" I stopped swinging and clenched the chains of the swings with a vice-like grip.

"He died." My voice was sobered and monotone. Wow, did I sound depressing. But I was. Depressed I mean.

Warren came over and squatted in front of me. He put one hand on my knee and used the other to wipe away a renegade tear.

"Hey, Layla, it's fine. If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay."

I threw my head up and looked at him with anger. "That isn't the problem! I want to talk about it, and I want someone to understand. But every time I tried to talk to Will, he always said that he was busy, or couldn't handle anything sad in his life at the moment." I was out of breath, and my tears were flowing freely, but I needed these things to be said.

"I wanted to talk to my mom about it, but she shut me down and changed the subject. Magenta tried to listen, but she doesn't know what it's like to lose a parent. Hell! The school counselor said she didn't have time for me because he wasn't killed by a super villain!" Warren looked at me with sad eyes when I mentioned the losing a parent thing. He looked at me with determination and forced my chin up, making my eyes join his.

"Talk. Please. I want to know." His eyes were cold yet understanding, hard yet comforting. My tears were already past the point of no return.

I couldn't break his gaze, it was just too strong.

"He was getting out of the car at the grocery store. The guy was hyped up on crack withdrawal and my dad had a twenty in his hands. He took a dull knife to the kidney and laid there for three hours in agony before he died. Ten people passed him, and they all chose to look the other way and not help a dying man." I looked up at the sky and stood up, screaming.

"Ten people! Ten people who could have called nine-one-one, or ten people who could have rushed over to put pressure on the wound. Ten people who did nothing! My father was a good man, and he was an amazing dad, and now he's gone. Someone took him out of this world, leaving my mother a widow, constantly working double shifts to keep our lights on, food in the fridge, and me in Sky High." I collapsed onto the ground and stared at Warren. "Because of ten people, I've lost faith in humanity."

He pulled me up and forced his gaze on me again. "Well, I lost faith in humanity because of one person. We can be faithless together." He softened his gaze and wrapped me in a warm and safe hug. He had buried his nose in my hair when curiosity overtook me.

"Who was the person that mad you lose faith in humanity?" He chuckled into my hair.

"That's easy. My father."

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