sing for me, my meadowlark
He has seen her use her Semblance a thousand times before, and yet, watching her solidify her Aura into a physical illusion over her own form is still utterly fascinating to him. Her hair darkens and splits into pigtails before his very eyes, her clothes shifting into a dark, neat uniform, utterly different from her usual getup of pastel pinks and creams and browns. "You ready?" he asks.
She nods, taking in a deep breath before pasting on a demure smile. She looks every bit like the student from Haven Academy she is pretending to be in order to infiltrate Beacon Academy.
He fixes up her bangs lightly. "Look, Neo," he mutters, "you're going to be in the same school as Red and the brats, okay?" At her glower at the mere mention of the Beacon students who have thrown wrench after wrench into their plans, he sighs. "No, you can't kill them. Don't draw any suspicion towards yourself, got it?"
Her annoyance is clear as day, but he does not allow her to continue with her silent judgement. "Look. You need to prep your weapon- is Hush ready?" She points to the parasol-turned-sword, raising a brow. "Okay. Then no matter what happens, you've got to stay under the radar until it's time."
"I can't even kill Blondie?" Neo types on her Scroll.
He rolls his eyes. "No, Neo, apparently Blondie is Red's big sis, and I've got to watch her die myself. Anyways, Blondie's going to be a big player in this garbage scheme of theirs, so she's especially off-limits!"
She sighs, but her frustration quickly dissipates as she lifts up her Scroll, waving him closer. He begrudgingly complies, squatting so that she can take as many photographs of them together on her Scroll as she likes. She has taken to doing this often- whenever she has a new disguise or new modification perfected, she always has to commemorate it with a picture of the two of them.
He smiles at the camera, hiding his fatigue and worry the moment the camera light flicks on, but her joy at being able to press her cheek against his and take a picture is always enough to lighten the load upon his heart. He chuckles, turning to look at her as she continues to pose cutely for the camera. "You ready to take the world by storm, Neo?"
She pauses for a moment to shoot him a wink. "Of course," she mouths.
For a long moment, he stares at her. It is almost time for her to join Cinder and her followers at Beacon Academy's intake process; it shall be quite a while until they see each other again. Before he can stop himself, he murmurs, "Drop the illusion for just a second, okay?"
Instantly, she stiffens, alarm crossing her face. Still, she does not hesitate to comply; she allows her Aura to slough off, shattering midair silently like a mirror fragmenting into infinitesimal pieces, leaving Neo in all her usual glory watching him apprehensively. "What's wrong?" she types, laying a hand on his forehead to check his temperature.
His heart seizes as he looks at this tiny creature. I'm doing all this for you, he says silently, brushing her thick bangs out of her eyes. This teenager- this young woman, almost an adult- is such a far cry from the tiny, bedraggled creature he had rescued from the slums. Looking at the love and tenderness in her eyes now, however, he knows that he does not regret the last eleven years with her by his side.
Silently, he cups her face. Soon, he thinks, soon I'll hear your voice. The idea of getting to actually listen to her speak, to no longer have to use the Scroll to understand her when she is out of his sight, of hearing her call out for him when coffee is ready or when she wants to complain about something- what will make her voice speed up? Slow down? What will make her voice rise, fall, hitch, cry?
What will she sound like when she smiles?
He knows she understands that he's not fighting on Salem's side because he believes in her cause. They both know this is just for survival- that Salem is a monster, and they are simply trying to make it out alive, together. They're in it too deep to flee now.
But if they do survive this, then he shall hear Neo's voice.
…I wonder what she'll call me.
His followers tend to call him 'Boss'. Cinder calls him Roman, her followers calls him Torchwick.
…would Neo ever call him 'Dad'?
He is not a sentimental man, he thinks. It does not prevent him from leaning forward and placing a kiss upon Neo's brow, grin growing feral and wicked as he murmurs, "Alright, sweetheart. You'd better give 'em hell."
And she smiles back, just as devilish and dangerous as he as she slips into her disguise once more; and they are united, standing side by side no matter how far apart they may be. She shall always stand by his side. She is his little girl, after all- the space at his side shall always be reserved solely for her.
As he looks into those beautiful brown and rose eyes for one last moment before her disguise settles back into place, he realizes that he does not regret a single thing in his life. He is Roman Torchwick; he rules Vale's underworld; and his life truly began when he picked up a piss-soaked little girl in a back alley in Mistral, as weird as it may be.
He wouldn't have it any other way.
-fin-