A/N: I really, really like Powergirl, more than I previously thought, so here's a little story 'bout her. Enjoy.
Chapter Nex: That Hole There
"Okay, so, watch this, right? Pay close attention to everything that happens after this sentence. And I say that because I'm going to mind fuck you, except… I'm going to mind fuck you while telling you I'm going to mind fuck you and it's still going to work."
It was the first line out of his mouth, not even a "hello" or a "thanks for meeting me", none of the rudimentary pleasantries that she had grown accustomed to accustomed to and wholeheartedly expected. None of that. Instead, she was greeted with a very bold claim uttered from around a straw that was currently between the lips of a young man more concentrated on his chocolate milkshake than he was her.
Also a first.
How odd. She was very rarely taken by surprise with one of these "fan meetups" that her publicist insisted she do to garner good will with the community, to give them something more to root for other than "the blonde-haired bimbo with the open chest", and while she appreciated the effort, she had long since made her peace with the fact that most would never know what really made Karen, Karen, nor did she feel particularly interested in giving them the time to find out.
This one, though… his name was Riley, or Timothy, or Jared Stalls, whatever—she really couldn't remember as she had already entered auto-pilot mode well before she even walked into the stylish desert diner.
"Mindfucking someone like me, an actual Kryptonian," she mused, angling her top half toward the younger man where before she sat as though she were ready to get up and leave the moment their meet-and-greet was over, "that's pretty big talk, you know?"
The angling really only served a single purpose: to get to the heart of the matter, which, in the case of all the men Karen's met over the years, was to tell them off for ogling that big hole in her costume, the one situated almost tantalizingly over her bosom. Whenever she gave her girls the slightest jostle, she could feel a million eyes honing in on them, turning brains to sludge and reducing the male populous to an almost primordial state of behavior. Abhorrent to be sure, but nowadays, she found it funny.
And so, when she did move in such a way as to bring her 'not-so-secret' weapon to the forefront, adding a playful jiggle to boot, she already had her chastising speech prepared, complete with the utterly awesome way she would stand and leave. If nothing else, she would be known for voguish exits.
"I'd agree with you, PeeGee, if it wasn't already public knowledge that magic can split your wig, which mind-fucking kinda falls into… depending on how you go about it," the young man responded evenly, and then his eyes lifted, bypassing Karen's bosom like she was flat-chested and settling onto her own. He smirked on his straw. "Luckily for you, I'm just a normal human, no powers over here."
And now Karen had flown past the odd and right into the realm of absolutely flabbergasted. For one, this guy hadn't even spared her chest a first glance, forget the second. The way he was looking at her now, the way his eyes were so concentrated on hers, focused on nothing else but her, it was… it was kind of like being seen as someone, someone beyond their staggering endowment.
This guy wasn't following the normal stages of being in her presence, of being in the actual proximity of someone who, on the daily, saved thousands of lives. He wasn't stuttering, he wasn't a jittering mess of invasive, borderline perverted questions, he kept his gaze where it mattered, his posture and composure were so lax and carefree one would think he were conversing with a friend from school instead of the literal symbol of peace that the city knew her as. And where others usually came dressed to the hilt in the best outfit they had to offer for this once-in-a-lifetime occasion, this one sat quite comfortably in a hoodie with the hood up and some faded jeans with the knees frayed through.
"You… but you're not…." Karen's lips floundered somewhat, not really sure what she wanted to say or how to say it, which left her looking like she were trying to entertain a small child by making funny faces, but she was more than a little confused.
"I'm not… what?" the young man questioned, tilting his head somewhat and slouching further in his seat. Bubbles frothed over the surface of his milkshake and Karen honed in on it, watching as his cheeks puffed slightly, adding more air while simultaneously fueling her curiosity. "What's up, PeeGee?"
She flinched. No one outside of her superhero colleagues called her that. The fans never called her that, they were too gobsmacked, the news stations didn't call her that, it would come off as disrespectful, and in all the numerous articles written about her they never dared castrate her name like that.
But here was this guy, shortening it and speaking it so easily….
Without even realizing it, Karen had gone from sitting at a blatantly uninterested lean to fully facing this passive fan, the look on her face one of scrutiny despite her best efforts at hiding it. It's just this… wasn't right, none of it. The way he was acting, his mannerisms and tone of voice, none of this was adding up—
"What's your name?" she found herself asking while the gears in her head tried to churn out reasons to the unexplainable.
"We talking government or online?"
"Whichever is more respectable."
"And if they both happen to be of the old tongue that causes babies to cry?"
"Then quite naturally I would have to upgrade my simple ask to a stern demand."
It took Karen a moment to realize that not only were the two of them exchanging smug smirks, but that she was actually enthralled with their exchange, surprised even, to find herself waiting for his reply so could give one of her own.
How long had it been since she last felt this spark for conversation…?
"What's it worth to know the name of the person right across from you? A name, mind, that you yourself read out at the raffle drawing a week ago." The young man chuckled, now finished with his milkshake and settling back in his chair, hands resting in the pockets of his hoodie.
"What's it worth…? Are you serious?" Karen blinked, scoffing, then leaned closer. "What's it worth to me? No, no, no, what's it worth to you to have a bonafide superhero like me have their personal name in my memory bank?"
"It's worth exactly nothing to me," he replied with a shrug that was small yet staggering at the same time. "If you knew my name, that would meeeeean… what exactly? That you'll scan for me from the clouds? That I'll get the fast-pass escape treatment next time our city gets attacked or something? Ha… nah, you knowing my name nets me nothing, but… I can tell you wanna know."
As she sat there struggling not to visibly pout, Karen didn't know which was worse, that he had said it with such smug assurance, or that he was completely right. Before, less than two hours ago, she couldn't have cared less about this mundane meet-and-greet, much less what his name was, but now she found herself really wanting to know and could only kick herself for forgetting. Because, damn it, he was right; it was in this very diner where she had personally read the name of the one who she would be spending the afternoon with.
"So, I'll ask again, PeeGee," he began, shifting his legs, and Karen felt his knee brush up against hers, "what's it worth to you to find out?"
Their point of contact, it was something that this guy had to have felt, the moment their knees touched, and she inwardly sported a victorious sneer, waiting for him to quickly withdraw his leg and stutter out an apology like they usually did whenever they accidentally touched her in some way.
So expectant she was that Karen was taken aback when his expression didn't change, when he didn't move his leg… when an act that was usually seen as a massive faux pas was treated like a normal occurrence. He kept his leg right where it was, right up against hers.
"I'll buy you another milkshake," she offered, taking a few seconds to recover in the sanctity of her mind and nodding at his empty glass. "You slurped the first one down with no mercy, maybe another could grease your tongue…."
Not that she demanded to be the center of attention, it just came naturally given her statute, so Karen blinked when the young man turned his head to stare out the window next to them. It didn't seem as though he were looking at anything in particular, he was simply scanning the outside scenery, taking it all in at his leisure, and for some reason, that really annoyed Karen.
As far as she was concerned, she was the scenery, which meant his eyes should have been on her like those of the other surrounding patrons.
She was on the verge of slapping the table to get his attention when his eyes found her face once again. He was grinning. "The milkshakes in this place are pretty toxic, and I'm gonna guess you already know this since you didn't order one at all."
Again, he was absolutely right—because the first time Karen tried a milkshake from here, it sent her straight to the bathroom and in-between clutching handfuls of tissue and praying her stomach didn't implode, she swore never again—but Karen wasn't going to admit it. "I'm just really all about maintaining my figure," and she teasingly pulled on the piece of costume around her chest, releasing it with a pronounced snap that caused her breast to bounce.
While the man across from her didn't so much as bat an eye, several people in the bar—mostly males keeping an intensely close eye on the pair—stiffened with audible groans.
"And how's that going for you? Maintaining your figure?" the young man wondered with a polite curiosity.
And there it was, the winning card that Karen needed, evidenced by the way her pearlescent eyes flashed. "I dunno," she began nonchalantly, "you tell me."
When Karen made to move, the lean forward was intentional and exaggerated, making sure that her cleavage popped to such a degree that they nearly escaped, and she shimmied from under the table with far more sensuality than necessary, all so that when she finally stood next to their table, she could finish the flair by placing a hand over her tilted hips.
She could practically hear the sounds of tents being pitched in the pants of those who had just seen her lewd display, but she didn't care about them or their opinion, she only wanted to see the facade this guy was putting on finally break away, to crack and crumble and reveal the horndog underneath that all men tried to hide. She wanted his jaw to drop and his eyes to bulge, she wanted to see him salivate over her, to fathom the verifiable goddess that stood before him and realize that his place was to be under her foot where a pervert like him belonged. She wanted to witness this thus far quiescent man sweat for once, she wanted it more than she cared to admit, solely because he was treating her like she wasn't a big deal, like she wasn't one of humanity's beloved protectors. There was a hierarchy that she had gotten used to without even realizing it, one that society had molded for her and placed her upon, and he was disrupting it in the most unnerving way.
"I'm not gonna tell you how your figure's going," the young fan told her. He withdrew a hand from his hoodie pocket and made a 'look at yourself' motion. "We barely know each other from a can of paint, PeeGee—you don't even remember my name—so why would I be the one to tell you how your figure is doing? That's an opinion for your friends or family, not some guy who won a silly raffle."
Hold on.
Did he just say… silly?
Her stance might have been heroic, hell, even inviting, but Karen could feel her face morphing into something akin to being slapped with a wet fish, disbelief bordering on insulted. True, she did think that meet-and-greet raffles were stupid and a waste of time—BUT! That was for her to think, the one basically being raffled away. How did it look to have the winner, the one actually interested in the first place, think the whole thing was silly? Superfluous? That… there was no other way to feel about it other than slighted and Karen straightened up almost professionally, dropping all pretense of trying to entice with her alluring body.
"If it's so silly then… why did you enter?" she questioned, every word laced with a heavy suspicion. "Why are we here?"
Chuckling, the young man lifted both hands to chest height in mock surrender. "Oh, so we're using that tone, are we? Alright, look, I know what you're thinking and you can relax. I'm not trying to distract you from some greater threat, I'm not a villain. I just don't think you should care about what I have to say about you in that fashion."
"But, why don't you?" Karen pressed, slowly reclaiming her seat without taking her eyes off this… she couldn't even be sure he was even fan, not with the way he was acting. "Why aren't you commenting on my costume? On my hair or my make-up—"
"You're not wearing any make-up so that one's a moot observation," the young man pointed out, and it was then Karen noticed his eyes, while they scanned her face, that they were a bright honey color, soothing and peaceful, she couldn't pick out a single trace of deceit within them.
"I'm not, yeah, but still—don't you think I look pretty or, like, aren't you thinking how awesome it'd be if I stepped on you or something like that? That's what you entered the raffle for, isn't it? Don't think I haven't noticed that it's only men who are just dying to meet me," she said, rolling her eyes. "I know what you all want in the end…."
She hadn't meant to say any of that, certainly nothing past the pretty line, but there was always a script to follow with these types of things, a routine that hadn't been broken for so long that this deterrent sitting across from her and cocking an eyebrow in confusion was throwing things off rhythm.
"What in the hell are you talking about?" he asked, sitting up, and hearing him curse caused Karen to flinch, something she rarely did even when she was hit with a car thrown at mach speed by whatever villain she happened to be fighting. "I already said what I think you look like shouldn't matter—and why in the world would I want you to step on me?"
Embarrassed didn't even begin to cover the sensation causing Karen to almost hunch up her shoulders. "I-I dunno, 'cause they did…? It's a kink, I think…."
The young man blinked, hard. "You do know that you're Power Girl, right? If you stepped on me, I don't think either of us would find the splatter left on your shoe kinky."
"No—what? Dummy, not like that—I wouldn't do it that hard, like, just enough to smother, you know? Barefoot, too, just to rub my feet on your face and… and, uh"—Karen's face turned a lovely shade of tomato red when the young man began to smirk—"annnnnd I should've stopped talking like twenty words ago…."
"Probably," he agreed, leaning forward onto one elbow, "but it's nice to know you got a dominating fetish."
"Wh-what, me? No—that's them, that's what you want me to do to you!" Karen blustered, struggling to keep her voice down, but this guy's shit-eating grin was causing her heart to race. "You're the one who wants to do perverted things with me!"
"No, see, I think you want me to want to do perverted things with you," the young man countered. "What I think, PeeGee, and this is just a shot in the dark, but… I think you're so used to other douchebags and their douchebag ways that you just lumped me in with them before you even sat down. Bet you had this big ole exit speech in mind, too, huh?"
When Karen didn't answer, instead narrowing her eyes and scrunching up her mouth in this cutely annoyed way, the young man couldn't help but laugh.
"Well, sorry you didn't get to make your grand speech, and I can't really say I blame you, you've done a hundred of these things and I'm sure they all must've blown big balls—but," he added playfully, "you should know I don't really like feet. You'd have to tempt me with something else if you wanted to get me drooling."
It was easy to talk to this fan, she found. It was easy and fun and pretty much the one thing Karen had been looking for during her tenure as a superhero, someone to just… to just talk to and joke around with, to laugh freely.
So, hypocritical it may have been, Karen found herself wondering what about her would get this interesting specimen to lose his marbles. She cleared her throat in hopes of regaining some semblance of professionalism, then leaned in like they were about to make a black market trade, whispering, "And, uh… that would be… what?"
"Oh, so you really wanna know, eh?" The young man chose to follow her up by glancing left to right in a sneaky fashion. "But, I thought you didn't like that kinda behavior, PeeGee."
"When it comes from the wrong person, no."
"Uh-huh. So you're saying I'm the right person, then?"
"What's it worth to you finding that out?" and it was her turn to sport the victorious smirk when the young man snorted, shaking his head. "A bold question like that doesn't just get answers for free, you know."
"I see. I guess that's fair," he conceded with a faux sigh. "How many milkshakes is it gonna take to—how'd you say it earlier?—to grease your tongue? Like two more? Three? Keep in mind, I'm not made of money."
When Karen giggled, she was almost surprised to find herself sounding so genuine, having faked it so often in the past. Unbeknownst to her, the two of them had been steadily inching closer while they exchanged ultimatums, trying to get the other to back down first, until they were so close, she could feel his every exhale against her lips.
There was an abstract, almost suffocating silence surrounding them, coating the interior of the bar like a second skin and without even looking, Karen knew the two of them had captured everyone's attention, what with it looking like they might kiss. And, surprisingly, Karen found herself not caring, about the crowd nor the possibility of touching lips with this charming man in front of her with the gleaming eyes.
In fact… a sudden idea popped into her mind and a quaint smile made her lips look even more inviting than they already were.
"Don't worry, I'm not out to break your bank account," she said casually, "but to know if you're the right person, mm-mm-mm… I guess there's one surefire way to figure that out."
The young man's eyes were no longer on hers, no. Being as close he was, Karen could feel him staring past her eyes, he was staring beyond her pupils and possibly into what made her her, trying to learn and discern more without her having to say anything. "And how's that?" he wondered, almost with a bit of growl to his tone.
"Kiss me."
The reaction she got was the one she very much needed but not the one she wanted, because the one she wanted, she didn't get. She wanted to see him slightly flustered from having a superhero drop such a loaded proposition, she wanted him to say he couldn't do it because of the status difference and what would the media think and such and such, that's what she wanted.
Instead, what she needed in that moment is what she received when the young man reached up, cupping her cheek in the warmth of his palm—"Okay, PeeGee"—and then he very softly brought his lips to hers, the motion so gentle that Karen closed her eyes to concentrate on the spark of their kiss. Sensations that she hadn't felt in God knows how long churned to life with such force that she had to fight back a moan, but it was so hard with what felt like lightning zipping through her veins, these pinpricks of passion that were trying to ignite themselves between her thighs.
To Karen, their kiss seemed to last forever and a day, but in reality, it was over in less than six seconds, and she almost whined when he pulled back, both his lips and the hand that she had grown used to on her cheek.
"So," he started conversationally, like most of the bar wasn't a sea of congratulatory "ooooo"s over their embrace, and she could see his eyes taking in her flushed features, "does the blush in your cheeks mean I'm the right one?"
The answer to that question was so bleedingly obvious that if Karen wasn't sure it would kill him outright, she would have decked him in the chest. As it stood, she only rolled her eyes. "You're still breathing, right?"
"I would say so, yeah."
"Then I suppose that answers your question, doesn't it, Mr. No Name?"
She knew that wasn't the response he was looking for but he had already flustered the ever-loving hell out of her so she would damned if he achieved total victory, even if some of the patrons of the bar were still clapping. It was all outside noise, none of it mattered; the only one she was interested in sat across from her, hand in his chin and tapping the end of his nose with his pinky.
"I guess it does," he replied suavely, accepting his loss with far more humility than Karen expected, which only caused her heart to throb. "Now I gotta tell you what really gets me going, don't I?"
This perked Karen's eyebrows. "You do…?"
"Well, you said you didn't like that kinda behavior… except from the right person, and after kissing you, I'm still here, still alive… must be Mr. Right, yeah?"
Truthfully, putting forth that much thought into their earlier debate was something Karen's mind just didn't feel like devoting time to. Her lips were still tingling from where his caressed hers and she kept squeezing her thighs together in an effort at calming the roaring fire in her loins, a fire that he had caused and was continuing to fan with nearly every word against her ear.
What in the hell was wrong with her?
"Err, yeah," Karen agreed distractedly, struggling to focus up, but it was hard. She already knew he was going to answer with something off-putting like her breasts or that he was an assman as those were the usual unsolicited answers she received for a question she never asked from the other raffle winners.
And she really didn't want to hear it. She didn't want him to follow in the lecherous footsteps of those before him, of those lesser men, she didn't want him going anywhere near their territory, not when she was enjoying herself so much… enjoying him so much.
She tried to change the subject with, "But, you know, what gets you going is kind of a personal subject, isn't it? Invasive as all hell… so, yeah, you don't—"
The young man lifted his free hand, silencing her without a word, and pointed at her chest, that smirk from before fading somewhat, becoming a soft ghost of what it once was. "That's what gets me going."
And there it was, the inevitable blow that Karen had been waiting to land, and boy, did it land hard, with an almost physical impact. She had suffered this blow countless times in the past, from countless people ranging from men and women—but none of them had ever made her feel the things that this guy had before revealing their true intentions. And maybe they weren't his true intentions, after all, since she was the one who wanted to know what got him going to expose him faster, but that was before all of this, before everything that had happened to give her a glimmer of hope that he would be different….
It was before that little kiss.
What was this feeling that caused her chest to tighten, that made every inhale a chore? Had she ever experienced it before now? It was kind of heavy, whatever it was, like it was sitting right on her heart and draining her hard built happiness with every passing second.
She suddenly wanted to leave. She suddenly felt stupid. She suddenly wanted nothing more to do with this stupid meet-and-greet and after she got away the first thing she was going to do was tell her publicist to never hold another one. Fuck whoever else wanted to meet her, because they didn't; they never wanted to actually 'meet' her, they only wanted to meet her body and score a couple of hours free staring.
That could be time better spent eating a pint of oreo ice cream, damn it.
Mind made up, she had only started to rise from her seat, already resigned to flying straight through the roof—because her cousin did it all the time and what was good enough for Kal-L was good enough for her—when she suddenly realized that the young man was still talking, that she had blanked out everything, including him.
"—figure there's gotta be a reason for… um, PeeGee? Gotta go to the restroom or something?" Now he looked at the blonde-superhero with genuine confusion, and Karen knew he had to be wondering why she had paused mid-stand and now looked like she didn't know how to use a seat properly.
"I… I, uh… I thought I did but, er, guess not? It came and went," she said with an awkward chuckle, slowly sinking back into her chair. She could see her blatant lie did nothing to alleviate his suspicion so she pushed on with, "Y-you were saying, though? Something about a reason? Sorry, when I gotta pee everything else just kinda fades into the background, heh-heh…."
There was no way in hell that he bought that, evidenced by the way he continued to stare at her for a few moments before scratching the back of his hoodie and going on with, "Yeah, um… you might wanna get that checked out, eh?"
"Working on it," she said with a wink, making a swirling 'go on' motion with her hand.
Whether it was the wink or her overbearing smile, Karen didn't know, but when he chuckled at her, she felt butterflies do the rounds in her stomach.
"Alright, weirdo—"
She cheesed a smirk. "But I'm your weirdo."
Without even missing a beat, he responded, "Sure are," and chuckled again, almost as if coming to that realization himself and deciding he was more than okay with it, to which Karen gave a happy little bounce where she sat, "so since my weirdo has this beguiling little cutout in her costume, what would get me going is knowing why it's there…."
In pretty much the same 'no thought' way that the young man had responded earlier, Karen replied, just as smoothly, "And whyyyy would knowing such a trivial thing about me get you going?"
She asked it in a pretty straightforward fashion, not wanting to come across as coquettish as she normally did when that question was eventually tossed her way, because she was always asked that question, because of where that particular hole sat, because of what it revealed. And most definitely, she had an answer, a very intrusive answer if she were honest, but time and time again she was taught that anyone who bothered enough to inquire about it didn't do so out of genuine curiosity, but because it would somehow segue into trying to see beyond that hole, into a 'playful' suggestion of making it bigger because "why the hell not, right?"
To her rebuttal, the young man merely lifted his hand into the air and gave it a few waves. "Why?" He looked almost flummoxed. "Because."
"Mhm, because… why?"
"Because knowing more about this weirdo of mine is quickly moving up my internal list of 'greatest ways to the pass the time'," he told her, and try as she might to repress it, even calling upon her extraterrestrial strength, there was no hiding that fine bloom of crimson that invaded Karen's cheeks once more. "I mean, there's gotta be a reason why there's just this random hole over your chest. I could assume it's for distraction purposes but the types of enemies you fight, I don't think your cleavage is gonna be some sorta secret weapon."
The way his eyes flickered as they traveled from her revealing cut-out and up to her face, it crossed Karen's jumbled mind if she shouldn't entertain the idea that this guy held captivating powers he himself wasn't privy to, because there was absolutely no way she should be feeling like this: nearly breathless, heated from the neck up, and really not giving a damn about anything except hearing him talk. Not her. Not after so long.
"Oh, it could very well be a secret weapon," she said mysteriously, giving her chest a teasing jostle, "in fact… they could be working their spell over you right now."
The young man smirked. "Nah. Mighta finally met your match with me, PeeGee."
"You really think so?"
"It's obvious, really."
Damn his ability to sweep her into these childish little back and forths… and double damn herself for enjoying it. "And how's that?"
"'Cause you're still here talking to me."
The staggering truth of his statement caused Karen's jaw to drop, leaving her mouth in a cute little 'o' of surprise, and she remained that way even after their table was approached by one of the bars' waiters, summoned by the young man's hand wave.
"Hey, can we get a large chocolate milkshake for here? Yeah, just the one, but two straws, please. Thanks."
When the waiter had moved away after bowing graciously toward Karen, Karen watched them go for a moment, marveling with a subdued face at the level of popularity she miraculously continued to maintain despite not only living in the shadow of her far more influential cousin, but having to deal with the faithful backlash surrounding her choice of attire and general disposition.
She really had no plans to change either. From her viewpoint, the people she saved, the humans she kept safe, there was a gap between them and her that prevented them from seeing beyond the flesh, beyond the powers and practiced smile. They couldn't see Powergirl as Karen, they seemed absolutely incapable of discerning the two, and yeah, naturally that made all kinds of sense. Karen was her secret identity, it would be a moot case if the public connected the dots but still… having someone see past the fluttering cape and the hole in her chest, was that too much to ask?
"Don't think you're slick either," she muttered with a throwaway smirk, still looking after their waiter. "Awfully presumptuous that I would want to share a shake with you. Especially a shake from here."
"It's a health risk, yeah, but that kind thing comes with the package, though," the man shrugged.
"What package?"
"When I drink, my weirdo drinks, too. Them's the rules."
Karen just shook her head, resisting the urge to laugh at this man's charming stupidity. She glanced at him out of her peripheral to see him staring directly at her, chin resting in his palm and looking completely at ease with waiting until she was ready to answer his question. It was almost maddening, the level of restraint this man possessed, not even trying to sneak glances at her cleavage even while her head was facing the other way.
He truly didn't care, and in the best way. He didn't give a damn about her cleavage, or how she looked, or how her skin-tight suit hugged her curves to a libido-stirring degree—he only wanted to know about her. About Power Girl.
About Karen.
The internal struggle must have been apparent over her face because the young man suddenly reached over, placing his hand over hers and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Don't rush it," he told her simply, running his thumb over her knuckles. "Whatever that circle there means, I'm sure it's something important. It's not there by accident and I'm willing to bet you didn't put there to be provocative like a lotta people think… it's more than that, a lot more… and maybe it's not time for me to know the whole story yet." There was something bracing in the way he held her hand, almost as if he could see the inner turmoil within, thrashing just behind her pupils, and was there to steady her. "Maybe one day I'll know, or maybe I won't—either way, the end doesn't really matter to me… 'cause looking at you now, what's really intriguing is the weirdo behind that hole there."
When his hand suddenly left hers, the feeling of loss that squeezed at Karen's stomach was cold and foreign, until she felt his fingers glide smoothly up her cheek, his forefinger catching the glittering tear that had unknowingly gathered in the corner of her eye.
"This weirdo that's still oh-so cute even when she's crying," he whispered softly, ignoring the waiter, who had returned with their shake and placed it between the two of them. "C'mon, PeeGee, superheroes shouldn't be crying, that's like, rule number one, ha. Who knows, if I ever win the raffle again, we can keep this going. That sounds fun, right?"
That was such a silly proposal that Karen didn't even bother dignifying it with a response, choosing instead to lean more into the palm at her cheek, drawing comfort from the warmth of his touch. Where before she planned on abolishing any future meet-and-greets for the sake of her declining sanity and patience, now she had an entirely new reason to stop them.
"Oh, also, don't get mad me—and I can't stress that enough—but, uh….remember when I said I'd mindfuck you so good that I could tell you and still do it?"
And her new reasoning?
The grinning goofball opposite her, the one coaxing a sincere smile out of Karen that she didn't know could exist for not only an insipid event like this, but for the person who happened to win.
"You're such a dick," she said without losing her sweet smile.
The young man shrugged, sliding both straws into their shake and pointing one at her. "Weirdo and the Dick… sounds like a fresh take on an old classic," he said funnily, "but I feel Disney might have some very strong words for us, PeeGee."
Karen wrapped her lips around her straw and took a healthy sip, finding the taste far less acrid the second time around as she made eye contact with those intoxicating light-brown pupils. "True, but… an interesting combination regardless, don't you think?"
And he finally blushed, just a little, enough to be visible after catching the hidden meaning of her words. "Ha, guess we'll see."
Underneath the table, Karen lifted the tip of her boot, brushing the side of his leg and adopting a half-lidded stare. "Oh, we definitely will."
The End