Chapter 4: Light's Out

A/N: I really don't know what this chapter is supposed to be, might be a space filler. There hasn't been much Parker/Black Noir interaction and I guess this chapter is just a slight deviation to hold y'all over until we start getting into the heavy smut territory that's on the way. I got some good shit coming y'all way and I'm excited about it. My finals are over and all I want to do is write for y'all. Thanks for reading my loves!

PS: I'm still totally open to any ideas concerning this story so feel free to hit those reviews anytime! Since the semester's over I'll have plenty of time to write and get chapters out faster.

Parker roused herself out of sleep, her phone vibrating insistently on the nightstand. Lifting her head groggily from the soft pillow, she reached for the annoying device and wasn't surprised to find Cassidy on the end of it. "Get dressed. We're going out."

"Nope." She sighed tiredly.

"But why?" Cassidy challenged.

"I don't really feel like it." Parker explained, rubbing a hand over her eyes to get rid of the sleep.

Cassidy released a telling sigh and Parker heard it many times before right before she resorted to coercion tactics. "Are you sure? It's the club that's got those buffalo wings."

Parker's eyes widened, suddenly sitting up in bed. "The ones wrapped in melted cheese?"

"Yep."

The vet assistant grimaced. She should have known better; food had always been both a weakness and motivation for her. Sometimes it was the only justification she could use when she needed to convince herself to go through with something that she necessarily didn't want to do. The way she saw it - at least she'd be getting something out of it. "Alright I'll go...but only for the wings. And I'm not staying long so you better get your fun in while you can."

"Alright, we'll be over in a second. Be ready!" Cassidy happily urged before the line when dead.

Parker's arms flopped to the bed with an exhale; silently contemplating whether she really wanted to go out. She hasn't been to a club in a while. She really doesn't want to leave the comfort of her bed especially after such a great nap - but she figures that it would do her some good to get out for once. Especially now since those wings were thrown into the equation. What's the worst that can happen?

Parker, Cassidy, and Jordan arrived at the venue just after nine. The place is dimly lit, almost packed and the music is blasting pretty loud from the speakers. The nightclub is full of high-energy clientele. They say that New York is the place that never sleeps and she's inclined to believe it. This isn't the type of place she would frequent in order to unwind from her daily routine. In fact, being here now reminded her of how she avoided going. Frankly, she preferred laid-back crowds as opposed to sweat-inducing parties. Thankfully the place didn't implicate a corny fog machine like most clubs would've. This was the type of club that trashy reality shows tended to film in, that was the vibe she got from it. Too bad she didn't have a Birkin bag or drink to throw at someone from across the room. That would make for good tv ratings.

She spotted Qua across the room sitting with a woman in a small VIP area she'd never seen before. None of this was surprising - Qua could hardly be without the company of a woman for long. And if she had to guess, the pair had probably just met and were already hitting it off. This type of thing happened often with Qua, he just had that kind of charm that attracted people and made them want to be around him. She'd seen him work his magic and it wasn't not something to sneeze at. The woman would likely be sharing a bed with him tonight if her attention didn't linger elsewhere. Walking through the growing crowd, Parker ignored a group of vultures catcalling her, telling her how great her ass looked in her dress. And just like that, she was reminded of how she wanted to be at home rather than here.

Parker grabbed the other woman's shoulder to get her attention. "I'm gotta sit at the bar and order my wings.", she specified, having to nearly shout over the music so she could hear.

Cassidy looked to the bar then back to Parker. "Will you be okay over here?"

"Yeah. I'm just gonna order the wings and I'll be over there in a minute."

"Okay." Her and Jordan continued over presumably to where Qua was and Parker made her way towards the bar that also functioned as a small bistro section. As luck would have it, there's an empty chair that she couldn't wait to sit on. Parker wouldn't even bother to maneuver through the moving bodies all night, she felt more comfortable sitting down especially with the shoes she was wearing. She and Cass had established a safety protocol just in case. If either of you were in danger, you'd send the other the red alarm emoji through text.

The chair had leather cushioning that was somewhat comfortable for thighs but she was more hung up on how neat the alcohol and shot glasses were stacked on the wall behind the burly bartender who reminded her of a younger, less muscled Vin Diesel.

"Can I get water?" She had no intention of consuming any alcohol tonight. She had to give props to the DJ, he was playing some bangers tonight that had her vibing even as she sat in one of the chairs at the bar away from the mass of dancing bodies. The lack of desire not to go to a club doesn't bother her in the slightest. She was not a seasoned clubber in the first place and was fairly content with it. "Oh...and can I get an order of cheesy wrapped buffalo wings?"

The man nodded, sitting down the glass he was cleaning and went into the back, likely to put in the order to the cook. She was thrumming with excitement, she could almost feel her tastebuds watering. Discovering the wings was like a pirate finding a long lost treasure. Those wings had done something magical to her the first time she tasted them. It didn't help that her friends knew of her unhealthy obsession with certain foods and sometimes used it to bribe her.

A body slid up next to her at the bar. Parker shot the guy a skeptical look, resting bitch face is on full display while the guy practically beams at her. The guy was standing uncomfortably close to her, close enough that she could smell the dank cologne wafting off of him.

"Are you here with someone? A boyfriend maybe?"

"Friends. I don't really want to be here." Unwanted attention was the last thing she felt like dealing with right now; just to have him in her proximity was distressing and had she not been waiting on her wings to come out, Parker would go join the others on the opposite side of the club.

"There any reason why you're at the bar all by yourself?" The guy asked, his voice was slightly louder than all the chatter and music.

Parker focused her gaze on a piece of chipped wood from the counter. "Trying to enjoy my night alone."

"I can understand that. I'm Quentin by the way." He says, extending his hand for her to take.

The young woman's brow quirked at the gesture. She knew what it was, it was an attempt at closeness and getting to know her better. Sadly, she's not really open to that at the moment. Parker was naturally paranoid about any and everything at this stage in life, so her guard would never be let down that easily. As far as she could tell, he was barking up the wrong tree.

"Hmmm." Like most women, Parker felt the anxiety and discomfort when in the vicinity of a bold, relentless man. Her stiff body language alone should be enough to deter him but clearly he was set on his goal. If he thought he was going to get laid tonight, he was sorely mistaken.

"No handshake huh? That's okay. I get it." He pulled back.

He's a smooth talker this one; can't be trusted by any means. Just because a person is nice to you doesn't mean they're a nice person. The haircut is a dead giveaway. He was one of the typical men most women will encounter at least once while in a nightclub; perusing the club scene often brought out these types of people. It's a shame to think that he might be having moderate success attracting women in this perverse way. These types of places are a haven for would-be harassers. Hell, the guy might as well have a wingman for all his efforts.

Parker craned her neck to look at him. A dark skinned man, questionable looking facial hair, teeth that looked too big for his mouth to contain. In all, he was pretty average in her book. He was too smug, too confident and it was throwing her off. That and the patchy beard. Her friends were still somewhere near the VIP and the dancefloor and she doubted they could see over the crowd of people. Qua would sure run the guy off without her having to ask. Parker had about three more polite responses in her before she started getting more pensive because the way things were headed…

"I don't usually talk to black girls but…" He started.

Disgust settles in the pit of her stomach. Was that supposed to be a complement? If he knew how dickish he sounded then he would shut up completely. She doesn't take men's backhanded compliments and opinions seriously because it's usually rooted in misogyny. "Then why are you here?"

"I'm here because I wanted to entertain the company of a beautiful woman. Now are you free tonight or is it gonna cost me?" He posed, giving her a sly sideways glance.

"I'm sure you don't have enough money to impress me. And even if you did I still wouldn't be impressed."

Incapable of coming up with a witty response he was no doubt racking his brain for, Quentin threw out another pathetic pick-up line. "You look great by the way, but do you know what really looks good on you? Me."

"Okay, if you say one more lame pick-up line I'm going to throw this glass of water in your face."

With pickup lines not working, he opted for another approach.

"See this watch?" He asked, extending his wrist over for her to see. "I paid almost $10,000 for it."

Parker takes small sips of the water, eyes trained on the wings in the to-go container being brought over to her. "Seems irresponsible."

You know when you agree to go out with friends and end up regretting it later? This was one of those times.

The man is going about it in the wrong way for starters. She had a firsthand account on how horrible those men could be to women - the ones that flashed their wealth. Trying to lure her in with money would never work. Never. People leave their morals behind quickly when the 'idea' of money is on the table. Good thing Parker, she is not one of those people.

Was he really that self-absorbed?

"Perhaps, I can buy you a drink then?"

Parker's hand grasped tightly around the glass of water, not willing to let it out of her sight for a second after hearing that. "Perhaps not."

He snapped his fingers at the bartender. "Let me get two shots of Jägermeister over here!"

Her brows drew down upon hearing that, her lips were pressed together tightly and she hadn't smiled not once. By now he had to gage just how utterly unfazed she was by his antics. Parker knew his game; the plan was to get her inebriated enough that she became more receptive to his advances and it wasn't going to happen. It was mind-boggling the lengths he seemed willing to go.

Once the bartender slides him the drinks, he downs one and slides another shot glass over to her. Parker completely ignored the gesture. "I don't accept drinks from strangers.

She thought she was pretty adamant about not returning his sentiments. Totally serious about him not using her to satisfy his boyish desires. He seemed like the type to present himself as something he wasn't, not like she expected any different but still. This situation is vaguely familiar - being harassed by a man. The night was turning unsavory already.

He chuckled, shaking his head as if something was funny. "You're more aggressive than I thought but I'm willing to give chase."

So he's a misogynist and a colorist. Perfect.

Parker's patience had long since run out for meaningless exchanges having decided to only give her time and energy to those who were generally trying to build a real connection. People who can create phoney connections for sex are dangerous.

Parker shook her head in a firm fashion. "No, I'm good."

The man then tried to slide his hand over hers as it laid placidly on the countertop. Parker quickly snatched it out of his reach. "Do you normally grab people's hands without their permission?" She seethed.

His face contorted into scowl that quickly changed into a fake smile. "Why so uptight?"

You can always tell when a guy gets no attention or play from other women, it shows up in their words and behavior.

Parker placed her fingers to her forehead in frustration. She couldn't stand the fact that he was all smiles while she sat there fuming at his presence. "Social norms haven't changed. We never liked men touching us without our permission. We never liked men saying all kinds of shit to to us. Stop trying to convince yourself that I'm giving mixed signals. I don't want any dealings. Point blank."

"Listen, I think you're getting the wrong idea of me." He places his phone on the counter and slides it closer to her. "We should talk about that. Why don't you put your number in my phone."

Oh the dedication...the delusion.

She'd rather swallow a Popeyes biscuit with no water.

With every second he used to try and press further communication, Parker's discomfort grew. This was why she should've stayed her ass in bed. Nightclubs housed all kinds of weirdos. She didn't trust him. A fake smile would never have her completely sold.

"You're not bored of me already are you?"

Parker clenched her jaw, expression firmly set. Bold of him to assume that she wasn't already bored when he walked over. She was floored by how hard he was going and he wasn't even trying to be subtle about it. She couldn't compute that type of stupidity. She had a zero tolerance for men like him. Even though he spoke with much inflection in his voice, Parker felt as if the charisma was only there to mask something else underneath. Red flags had been flying for a while now.

"Can you not...please leave me alone."

"Just trying to be upfront. I know women prefer it that way."

Parker subconsciously rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time. There wasn't anything wrong with him approaching her, it was his inability to accept that she wasn't interested and move on that was the real problem. Specifically after she was blatantly communicating that she wasn't interested. He's purposely refusing to take no for an answer. The plan was to extend the awkward silence until he walked away.

The loud sound of someone hitting the floor behind her made Parker turn her head for a split second, seeing a group of women attending to their intoxicated friend who was unable to keep her balance. They probably realized that it was time for her to go home. Parker herself, deemed it a good judgement call.

Purposely ignoring his last statement, Parker decided that she needed to take a breather. Sliding out of the seat, Parker's eyes scanned the place for the bathroom, walking away as quickly as the heels would allow.

Parker couldn't lie, club bathrooms are and probably forever be a strange place. There you see women at their best and absolute worst. Thankfully, it's not overflowing with women taking selfies. However, she did have to tune out the sound of someone vomiting in one of the stalls in favor of looking at herself in the reflection. She didn't feel like putting on any makeup, or more accurately, didn't have the time to. Good thing her skin had regained it's natural luster so she would not have to walk around looking like the walking dead.

The creepy jerk at the bar was trying it and her patience was nonexistent. She really could've decked him right in the face but she didn't want to ruin any process she'd made over the week and that was the only thing keeping her temper at bay. Otherwise she might've beat him with a barstool just for annoying her. She doesn't know where men get the audacity.

Staring in the not so cloudy mirror, Parker suddenly felt the random urge to get her life back on track. The feeling was wild and familiar because she knew for a fact that she'd be back on the same bullshit two minutes later. Was her life really that hectic that she couldn't even enjoy the tiniest moment of happiness without it getting trampled by responsibility? Hardly not. So she could do without the reminder of needing to get it together. Not only that, but Parker felt like she was in a contrast state of losing and finding herself over and over again. And it sucks. Come to think of it, it might be a combination of mania and self-reflection. She'd linger at the bar for a few more minutes then inform the group that she was leaving.

A toilet flushes and a woman emerges from the shall to hopefully wash her hands. She was a redhead wearing a sparkly green dress. Parker thought the combination was cute and made her look like Poison Ivy. She doesn't get the chance to compliment the woman though seeing as she already beat her to the punch.

"Oh my gosh. I love your dress." She excitedly expresses, eyes shining.

It's not hard for Parker to offer her a genuine smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. You're so pretty. I wish I had your cheekbones." she continued and Parker was worried that this would end up turning into a compliment contest.

"I'm not all that." She brushed it off.

Having already sensed that the woman was more than a little tipsy, Parker tried not to be surprised when the woman affectionately held both of her hands in hers. "Are you serious?! You're gorgeous!"

"Thanks. I like your earrings. They're really cute."

"Oh yeah, I got them from that little fashion store on fifth street while I was thrifting. I thought they would cost me an arm and a leg but nope. Only five dollars."

"Sounds like a pretty good deal."

Gaining these little sink-side besties through conversations are one of the greatest things about going to a club. The woman certainly lightened up her mood from the place it was just minutes ago. The conversation lasted for about ten minutes until the woman finally left the bathroom to possibly rejoin her friends. Parker decides it's time for her to head back to the bar for her wings, she doesn't even want to wait anymore. She pulls out her phone and shoots a quick text to Cass that she was leaving.

The biggest relief however, is seeing that the guy was gone from his place at the bar. The water didn't look tampered with, in fact she expected it to be taken away by a staff member before she returned. Even though all of that didn't matter, she wasn't going to drink from the glass anyway especially after it's been sitting here out in the opening. That's a cardinal rule. Never leave your drink alone. Parker pushed it aside and ordered another water. Her throat was parched and she needed some a quick drink before she called an uber. She secured the plastic container of wings in her left hand and closed the other around the glass.

Despite that, the arm holding the glass won't move, almost like it was too heavy for her to lift. Parker started to feel lightheaded, her body growing too relaxed and sluggish for her liking. It was like her brain was short-circuiting and she was struck by the feeling. Not to mention, her hand-to-eye coordination was way off. Her ability to think clearly was rapidly fading and her mind wasn't allowing her to panic at the all too sudden change. All Parker felt was confusion and acute dizziness. The bar seemed like it was getting closer and closer until everything went back.

Quentin's hand stopped her falling head before it could make contact with the hand countertop.

He wrapped an arm around her waist to straighten her spine and keep her slumped figure upright. Knowing that if she was in a limp position, people would get suspicious. He had to get her out of the club without drawing any eyes. He commenced to sidling her away while no one paid any attention. He'd purposely sat at the bar with her for a while to give the bartender the impression that they knew each other. And if that didn't work he'd planned to follow her home anyway.

A look into her eyes confirmed that she wasn't actually there. Her pupils were dilated and she was enveloped in a deep docile state. He recognized the look in many other women before. "The roofie effects work pretty quick." He mumbled.

"I knew you wouldn't go for the water again. That's why I had to slip it in while you were distracted. I almost couldn't get it in with you keeping it so close. So much for being careful huh little bitch?" He whispered.

"You didn't fall for the usual shit like the others did. I'm surprised."

Of all the he'd rendered vulnerable. She had to be the most difficult to snatch. "I thought I might have to give up on you but it turns out you're just as stupid as the rest. So everything worked out."

"Not so self-aware now are you?"

He coaxed her slacked body towards the direction of his car in the back parking lot out of view from the buildings cameras. Once he made it to his car, he positioned her on her back within the backseat.

A hand grips the back of his head and pulls him away with a sharp yank. He barely has time to voice his surprise before he's thrown back with extreme force into the concrete pavement. Pain radiates throughout his back and shoulders.

"What the - what the fuck?!"

He's ready to brawl until he actually sees who his attacker is standing in between him and his conquest. Black Noir's body language spoke volumes and judging by the sheer malice wafting off the supe in waves, he had to be pissed.

Fear arrested every inch of his now trembling frame. "Whoa man...I don't want any trouble. Me and my girlfriend just had a few drinks and we just got a little frisky is all." He tries to explain, holding up his hands in what can be interpreted as surrender but was more than likely to show he wasn't a threat.

The superhero picked up on the now rapidly beating heart and change in breathing. The fear no doubt etched into his subconscious. If not for that, the look on his face would have told it all. Not caring to hear a word of what the asshole was was trying to feed him, Black Noir began advancing closer like a predator to its prey. There was no intention of drawing this out any longer than necessary even though the piece of shit deserved to be tortured, his main priority was Parker's safety. At least she would get some enjoyment from his death.

The man scrambled to grab an empty beer bottle from its place on the ground, intending to cause some damage even though he knew trading blows with the supe could very well be a death sentence. In a burst of energy, he lunged aiming the broken glass straight for the stealthy ninja's chest cavity. Only he was met with the sturdy material of the black suit's breastplate.

It was then that he knew he should have just legged it out of there. The supe is a high-functioning, trained killer. Based off of that alone, he doesn't stand a chance of getting out of this alive. Aside from Homelander, Black Noir couldn't be reasoned with - from the moment he stepped on the scene, violence was automatically the favored course of option.

Noir took a strong hold on his hand, adding pressure until the bones were crunching and snapping out of the skin. Quentin screamed in agony, knees giving out due to the pain. A forearm came up to strike him in the face and a few of his teeth flew from his mouth and blood splattered onto the pavement. His body slammed into the ground once more and it was there where he realized that he couldn't hear anything from his left ear. He couldn't even more anymore.

He knew his actions would eventually catch up to him but this was just the cruelest chance of fate.

Death's very emissary was here...

Black Noir gently laid Parker on the soft neatly made-up bed within her room.

When he followed her and her friends to the club, he didn't actually know what to expect. A routine check-up on her resulted in him finding him a scumbag attempting to assault her. If these were the types of things that went on in his absence then he simply wouldn't go long periods without seeing her. He felt his blood-lust rising again. Black Noir's blood was boiling and he hadn't felt this angry in a while. He clenched and unclenched his fists while the anger continued to mount. Had the man been given an opportunity to harm her, Black Noir didn't know what he would've done.

An incident like this couldn't happen again - he would not allow it.

None of the lights were on in the house but he can still see her clearly without any obscurities. The bedroom would be pitch black had it not been for the moonlight shining through the curtains. She was passed out, curly hair disheveled, face flushed even in a state of unconsciousness. He brushed the wild locks from her face. The long eyelashes fanning the top of her cheekbones. There were no visible injuries he could detect, he suspected that she'd likely been drugged. Though neither scenarios are any better than the other. She looked like she was asleep - albeit a deep asleep. He took care to monitor her breathing, making sure that her airways were normal and not at critical levels.

Her phone had been vibrating with calls and messages presumably from her negligent friends. They wanted to know where she was. On a whim, the supe picked up the phone and sent a short message indicating that she was home. Had he not, they would come looking and he'd rather not have any time with her disturbed.

Any sort of clothing easily accentuates her figure, bringing attention to her hips and thighs respectfully. Tonight was no exception. She possessed so many desirable attributes it was no wonder that she attracted the wrong attention. Her beautiful face is peaceful, breaths small and shallow as they passed through her slightly parted lips. And those plump lips; she had the most gorgeous smile he'd ever seen. If only she'd smile for him. He knew that she was capable, the pictures displayed all around her home were a testament to that. He longed for a time where he could capture her lip with hers.

He freed his hands from the gloves. Though he didn't voice his desires, he was fully capable of acting on them.

Black Noir's gloveless hand crept to the hem of the dress. The degree of possession he felt over her was insurmountable - and he wouldn't have it any other way. This small, ferocious woman could twist and bend his will as much as she liked. Everything between them should not be a hostile affair.

How apt.

His arousal still made itself known, dick jumping in his pants. Her body excited him and he yearned for her against his will. He set about removing the thin article of clothing, rendering her partly naked to his view. She held completely still and he had to remind himself that she was in a state where she wasn't aware of what was going on. She would offer no protests or struggles tonight. He wouldn't have to hold down a squirming, resistant body in place.

Oftentimes, he wasn't usually allowed to play and explore her body like this. She wasn't conscious to receive him so there would be no heavy petting tonight.

The brown skin is so soft and warm. Black Noir's form is nearly thrumming with anticipation as he slowly revealed more of her flesh to his waiting gaze. The supe took in the sight of her jostling breasts, a great deal of his attention focused on the delectable looking dark areola. His bare hands worked to lift the dress over her stomach, his breath caught and he faltered for a brief second. Fingertips splaying across the flat surface of her tummy, ghosting her navel. Pulling down the black material until it completely off her body, exposing her most sacred place to his perusal.

The thought that he wasn't supposed to be doing this was present but he couldn't find it in himself to stop. To care. It had been entirely too long and the supe was anxious to feel his skin against hers.

His rapt attention was focused solely on the tiny opening that would soon part to receive him and pulled his dick from his pants.

A low moan erupted from Parker's mouth when gentle fingers dipped below to rub the folds of her sensitive vulva. The slickness that he found there made his wanting even harder to contain. The scent of her was stifling.

Parker stirs but doesn't awaken. A small sigh is emitted from her mouth. It was a stark contrast seeing her features so placid and not fixed with rage. He cupped her right cheek in his bare hand, tilting her head upwards.

All of his touches are gentle as he looks the woman over. Every part of her was delicate under his exploring touch. Pressing her against the solid foundation that was his body, the supe could make out the sweltering heat that was her cunt. Although he was careful not to rest his full weight unto her form.

The mushroom tip presses against the tight entrance cautious not to bother her drug induced slumber. Her body lies pliant as Black Noir carefully maneuvers every inch of himself inside her. The relaxed muscles there made it easy for him to slip into her moist heat with ease though he made sure not to put too much pressure on her womanhood as he fell straight into her silken depths. He still stilled for a moment, seemingly in an effort to pace himself. The heat of her body is welcoming and he knew just how ultra-sensitive she could be. If she awoke to find him on top of her, she would surely try to claw him to death. There wasn't any tenseness, no resistance that met him.

Her inner muscles were taut as he whist the male focused on grinding rather than thrusting. He wanted to savor this moment, instead of having to finish as quickly as he could to accommodate her. Her inner thighs were raised high above his rocking hips, tight passage massing him as he began an easy pace of easing himself in and out. She reacted somewhat to his erotic ministrations, brows arching, head lulling back further on the pillow. She had to feel her flesh being penetrated even in her clouded state of mind. Guiding his engorged member gingerly towards her drenched labium.

He watched as Parker's stomach muscles contracted, an outline of his dick could be seen with each drawn out invasion of her frame. Pumping into her with precision. Retreating ever so carefully. She mewled softly even as her eyes remained closed she felt the pleasure. Gushing wetness surrounded his shaft.

Parker whimpered quietly, obviously confused at what she was feeling but unable to discern the feeling of the supe working her hot cavern. That pressure began building higher and higher until release was just on the horizon.

Black Noir quickly removes himself from her completely, methodically shifting upwards to climb over her, jerking his shaft as he moved into position. He felt the heat emitting from her mouth onto his tip. His hand jerked roughly until the pressure in his abdomen became unbearable and then he's cumming hard, spurting milky ropes into her parted lips. All of the sexual energy drained from his body.

He shakes his hand continuing to pull every single drop from his pulsing manhood. The ejaculated semen spills between her parted lips, unto her tongue before sliding towards the back of her throat. It's only when her face squelches up and her brows furrow that he realized that she's choking on his cum. The sharp intake of breath and choking noises are evidence of it. His hand quickly moved to press against her throat.

The fingers massage the column of skin there, coaxing her to swallow the essence. It wouldn't do for her to wake up and discover that she was filled to the brim with cum. It took him a few moments to come down from the high. He gave her head an affectionate rub. He couldn't wait for the day where he'd be able to experience her hot, wet mouth in its entirety. But he acknowledged that they were nowhere near that stage. For now, he had to take what he could get.

He pulled the covers over her body, after settling her more comfortably in the bed.

Black Noir set about placing himself back into his pants and refitting his gloves. Afterwards, Black Noir glanced at the bedside clock. Someone at the tower would probably go looking for him soon. Not that the realization provided any motivation to get back.