"Sir?" Wintergreen pokes his head around the bedroom door, blinking into the dark. "Are you feeling better?"
A low groan fills the gloomy atmosphere. In the pool of light flooding in from the hall, Wintergreen could see the stripped armor and protective clothing litter the ground. Slade had earlier slugged past his friend without a word and hid within his room for the rest of the day. The older man was glad that the rampaging emotion was gone, but Slade usually makes sure to care for his body afterward. This reaction is very much unlike him and it calls for concern.
"Would you care for a bite, sir?"
Silence echoes back instead. The elder can only do so much to help a stubborn old mule, especially one that can easily break him like a twig. He shakes his head, looking away from the void.
"I'll leave you be, then. Goodnight, master Wilson." Wintergreen gently closes the door, letting darkness fall once again.
Slade, on the other hand, doesn't believe a good night to come.
The mercenary wishes he could sleep. It'll take him from his conscious which is already nothing more than mental fuzz, a maddening hum of a deep want permeating his waking thoughts. Sleep will help him ignore this storm.
Only, with the blinding rage gone and his blood still singing, this want is something he has all but forgotten. As a deep sigh escapes from his throat, he turns unto his back, laying an arm on his cool forehead. All his thoughts imprisons his body to stay awake and not have the will to do anything else unless it is partaking in carnal desires. This hunger cannot be quelled by food nor drink. One deadly sin replaced with another.
Surely, he did not have a fair trial for this penalization is most cruel. All the blame goes to that accursed dragon.
It must.
Though, he deserves a night of sweet nothings and meaningful caresses after years of abstinence. Perhaps it is time to break that streak. Growling at his incompetence, he sits up, the thin sheet falling from his bare chest. Just as he had done with wrath, he must react to this else he'll go mad.
Within the hour, Slade is under the civilian guise once more. Despite the well-to-do appearance, his mind continues to brood and skulk. A war breaks out in the confines of his mind. Yes, he should enjoy what he's denied himself for so long. His body craves for it. Hopefully this night will prove fruitful compared to the events of the afternoon.
But he feels, oddly, bad about upsetting those violet eyes. Those lips shouldn't have been frowning.
The back and forth battles for dominance even as Slade slides into a sleek, gray car and drives off into the city's nightlife.
He visits the wealthy part of the city where he hopes to find a woman of class that he could at least tolerate enough to satisfy him. When the selection of trust-fund babies and one-dimensional airheads proves to be a waste of time, Slade lowers his expectations. Visiting the more common bars and clubs also proves fruitless. At least he inhaled quite the number of drinks in the process. Unfortunately, with his regenerative abilities, the drunkenness dulls to a buzz until he is fully sober once again. And as desperate as he is for this need to go away, he refuses to meet with those akin to the red light district.
Since nothing seems to go according to plan, he decides to stroll through the windy streets, hoping against hope for a bit of fortune to come his way. In response, a slight chill bites the air as the wind picks up from the bay. Nothing like the sweltering nights in the rain forests of South America or the long, frigid ones on the Russian steppes, but the cold is enough to dampen his already foul mood.
With his hands buried deep in the coat pockets, he stalks the sidewalks, heading away from the party side to a more tranquil area of the city. Shops and café lights glow upon the outside ground. Amateur music pours in from several buildings while soft-spoken words idle out from others.
Though, security throws out an unruly couple across the street from him. The man complains that he was just be affectionate, the woman claiming that what they were doing was no big deal, and the security woman having none of it. The interaction pulls him from his gloom just enough for his heightened sense to catch something hanging in the air. A wisp of a feeling. It calls to his desire.
Ignoring the oblivious couple now making out, he follows the faint trail.
}-{
This is much better, Raven affirms to herself as she takes a break from her book to take another glance at this little café. This place is one of her favorites to haunt because it caters to those on nocturnal rhythms and serves fairly decent tea. Her choice for tonight is a honey sweetened green tea and it is a perfect match to the approaching chill of an autumn night, most noticeable to her at the window seat.
She decided to wear civilian clothes this time with a fitted black top and lacing down her arms, though perhaps she should have brought a jacket. It's been so long since she went into town like a normal person that she forgot about bringing something as human as a jacket for cold weather. If her purple hair isn't a dead giveaway that she's not full human, someone would question how she's so tolerant of the cold.
The pale woman nibbles her lip. She's already gotten one hell of a lecture form Robin about this afternoon. The last thing she needs is another one.
Guilt surges through her. She had hoped getting away from the tower would help her forget her choices and everyone's sour moods was starting to negatively affect her already fragile state of mind. Tea forgotten, Raven massages her temples as a headache pulses it's presence into existence.
She wants and needs to meditate, even if it doesn't help her again.
Another café customer laughs across the room, reminding the Titan woman how full the café is at the moment. Conversations aren't louder than the environmental tunes, but it's still a constant lull of words that drift around Raven's buzzing head.
"This place is too noisy," Timid pipes up from within Nevermore.
While this place is a little beyond the placid atmosphere of her room, it is better being here than being guilt tripped. Since coming back from the conflict, Cyborg has been down on himself for letting Slade get the better of him. Starfire is worried sick about Robin relapsing- who still managed to have enough energy as the leader to chastise Raven, and Beast Boy, after resting in the infirmary for a while, slunk to his room without another peep for the rest of the day.
Raven groans, her brows furrow under the stress. She came here to get her mind off the team, not dwell on the emotional strain. In a vain attempt to busy herself, she sips from her tea, letting the sweet mixture brighten her taste before swallowing. She melts into the flavor, shutting out the world for a few seconds.
Until the image of her greatest enemy recalls itself to the forefront of her thinking. She can't deny how baffled she is about that entire exchange. In all of their confrontations during the team's teen years, Slade has never once been so mindless, so monstrous, so... uncontrolled, yet so silent. No matter the question, no matter the person, the man didn't utter a single word.
So why was she both frightened, yet full of pity for him? Why did she really let him go? Why didn't he attack her when she dropped her magic?
Why didn't he hurt her this time when he pummeled the others?
Sighing, she puts her tea down, opting to stare out the window. Raven can see her faint reflection in the glass, noting how her outward self most definitely does not match her internal self. The chaos within really doesn't show through unless she's at her limits. Though, she'd rather have that calm feeling again so that it may better her and seep into her friends like it did the other day.
That calmness.
She still can't wrap her head around the hint of it appearing at the crime scene nor how fluidly the feeling was morphing into such anger. Raven wasn't feeling anger earlier. Now that she sits and thinks about it, really stewing on the memory of the flavor for each time it showed up, the source feels more like a presence. Very similar in taste to her bond with Robin.
But she has made no other bonds.
Though, it might explain how the calm feeling devolved into anger this afternoon. The moment Robin saw the first of many Slade-Bots might have been the trigger and she could sense it. Raven will have to see how he might have affected her the past couple of days if he is the source. And if he is, then Raven's attempts to keep the good feeling to herself would be out of the question. She's not going to monitor his well-being just for her own sake.
Perhaps she's been doomed from the start. As usual.
Sighing once again, like a fairy tale princess bored out of her mind, she touches her book to pick it up from where she left off. What gives her pause is a very faint sense of the source. Any prior thoughts that it might have been Robin flies out the window as he should should still be in the infirmary. He definitely shouldn't be in town right now. Which means that the source is still a mystery. Maybe she should hunt it down.
"Hey, miss Roth," the café owner calls from the counter. "You're my last customer and it's about that time to close up shop."
Distracted, Raven flusters a bit, not realizing how late it is if she's been here till closing. She gulps the last of her now cold tea and brings the mug to the counter, setting the payment beside that. Not wanting to be a nuisance, she quickly retrieves her book and heads for the door.
Only to find that the source is stronger now. Far stronger. Like it's much closer.
She shakes her head as if she can force the feeling away. Raven is far too confused about everything now. Instead, she waves goodbye at the café owner and exits the warmth. Not really wanting to return to the tower, even with it being in the dead of night, she decides to walk home instead of fly. Clenching her book to her heart, she takes in the night sky as she crosses the street.
The unexpected cold front still affects her, making her regret not bringing a jacket. Even so, she still refuses to use the ability of flight. Huffing and rubbing her arm with her free hand, she continues on with a plan to go straight to her room when she returns. She doesn't want to complicate or aggravate anyone.
"Pardon me," a silky, deep voice softly articulates behind her.
God fucking damn it, she yells in her mind. Her heart is pounding against her ribs like a madman on the marimba so much that she couldn't contain a gasp as she spins around to see who scared the ever living daylights out of her. It's not often that people can manage to sneak up on her. She very well could have had her guard down.
It's a complete stranger looking at her with a gentle concern coloring his blue gaze. For someone who looks so young, he has hair like starlight and sports a very clean goatee which brings attention to his handsome jawline and full lips. Shifting her eyes away from there after feeling a heat blossom on her cheeks, she notes how massive he is compared to her. Even under layers of clothes, she can tell how fit the man is.
"I didn't mean to startle you," he says.
That's when she notices that distance between them. Any other person would have invaded her bubble, yet he is keeping polite distance. Someone who understands personal spaces couldn't be sketchy, could they?
"It's alright, I shouldn't have been so lost in myself."
Great, that sounded a little narcissistic. She mentally berates herself for speaking so stupidly.
The stranger continues his train of thought. "I couldn't help but notice that the chill has gotten to you. I'm more than willing to let you have my coat. I have other layers on that'll last me until I get to my car. You wouldn't have to worry about returning it."
Raven opened her mouth to speak, then closes it with her bottom lip trapped in a mindless gnaw. For a brief second, her violet orbs dart back and forth as if searching for something wrong with this picture. Finally, she speaks.
"If you're positive," she says.
A feeling of which she utterly fails to identify seeps over her subconscious being. He seems so familiar, but can't place a connection. All the same, he's a complete stranger. His voice is quite lulling indeed, but how does she absolutely know he isn't some creep looking for someone to assault?
That thought is pushed far back into the depths from which it came when she senses an instinctual sort of reassurance that she can trust him. In fact, she feels the calm feeling with such force, she questions if the source is him. She has so many questions rapid fire to the surface, each one demanding an answer until she watches him shrug off his long-tailed coat and moves to hold it open for her for a mere moment.
As if he resolves against his initial reaction, he instead takes a few steps forward to hand her the coat and takes those steps back.
Her mind settles upon his kindness and mindfulness of her space, which affirms that she could feel safe with him, like she can rely on him. This leads to thoughts of wanting to see him in better lighting, maybe converse with him. Anything to be an excuse to not go home so soon.
"I hope you don't have far to walk. My coat is warm, but the night might get colder if you have long to go," he murmurs, each word still clear as day, just soft.
"Well, I mean... uh... I'm going to the edge of Jump City," she replies, draping the coat across her shoulders before pulling it close around her.
She takes an evident moment to revel in the warmth from the man who wore the coat moments ago. He does indeed have a very broad frame, hence the large piece of material now comforting a woman of Raven's stature. Realizing she probably looks like she'd never been warm in her life and is overreacting from the polite gesture, she slightly grins.
"Thank you. What are you doing out so late?" she inquires, once more glancing in his direction.
She wants to keep a conversation going partially because he is so pleasing to listen to, partly because human contact outside of the Titans is nice every now and then, and mainly because she is pining for a reason to not go back.
Raven only doesn't want to go back because she had let Slade escape so easily. Her stomach clenches at the thought that maybe Robin was right in his arguments. In the face of two team members taken down so easily and the other two batted around, she should have taken the risk to take him on herself. Maybe it is her fault and she's just hiding from her mistakes.
The pale woman sighs and hugs the coat tighter to her lithe form, a small cloud of white taking shape from her lips. Any other day, she would have lunged at the chance to have a one on one with the Titan's most foreboding opponent, to let out all the anger she harbors towards him, but at that moment this afternoon, she couldn't do it. She felt no need. All those emotions had been reduced to smithereens.
And now, here she is, volunteering to engage in a conversation with a stranger when she should be reading or sleeping. She glances up at the sky as if holds a universal answer, but finding no such thing. Physically, she's exhausted. When she absorbs injuries, it takes a while for her system to process the pain, keeping her wide awake making sleep that last thing she wants to do. She knows she must at some point.
The man chuckles, then. "I was going to spend time with some company, but plans fell through. You might know how that feels. Since I was in town anyway, I ended up wandering about to enjoy the night air and keep an eye open for new acquaintances."
Because she can sense when people are lying, no red flags immediately wave around.
"It seems," he continues, "that I was meant to keep a woman from freezing to death. It wasn't very bright of you to not have some kind of cover to be honest. And you have quite the distance to walk in order to reach the edges of this city. What would you have done if I hadn't been nearby?"
He seems playful and speaks with such eloquence that he can't be all that untrustworthy, right? There's something about him that makes her want to get to know him. She frees one hand from the man's coat and tucks a lock behind her ear. Should she ask questions? But she doesn't want to seem invasive. Yet... he seems to be open to conversation, so she should give it a try.
Meanwhile, Timid is in tears with Brave consoling the emoticlone.
"What would I have done...," Raven muses, the calm settling heavily in her body. "Well, freeze up I suppose, or choose a hotel for the night."
She bites her lip for a moment until she stops herself from further worrying her flesh as she quietly studies him without outright staring, her mind's eye reaching out to lightly probe his mind. Ever so gently as she doesn't want to rudely encroach on his privacy.
"Uh... w-what's your name?"
He softly grins. "An exchange of names?" He chuckles, looking every bit like a model doing so. "If the lady wishes, you honor me." He raises his hand to his chest and bows. "I am called Wilson. I don't really much care for my other name, but before you ask it's Joseph. Joseph Wilson," he slowly holds out his hand. "Pleasure to be in your company...?"
"Raven," the Titan rushes to say, her pale lips curling in a smile as she still doesn't sense a lie. "Just Raven. Pleased to meet you, Wilson." She takes his offered hand for the greeting shake, firmly holding it as habit since she's often around those who are very strong and knows the human tendency to judge a person by their handshake.
The small Titan focuses on his warm hand completely enveloping her own, and a subtle jolt runs through her mind. She bites her lip out of pure habit, thinking in overdrive. He doesn't seem dangerous. She could probably let her guard down.
She is so entranced by his presence, she feels like space matter inevitably pulled into a black hole, and she doesn't know why. This is ridiculous, she scolds herself. Irresponsible. As a hero, she has little reason to socialize with civilians when she should be focused on her job. As a half-demon, she has even less of a reason to expose herself to the common person.
No..., this is her life. She can do what she wants with it. She has saved this dimension from her prophecy and the world countless occasions. She can most likely handle any consequences that might come from being friends with someone outside the hero circle.
It's only then that she realizes that she gave Wilson her real name instead of Rachel, which was her original intention. Damn. Oh well. It shouldn't make a difference, right? He couldn't know that she's a Titan. She's the most secluded and quiet of them all, she isn't nearly as popular in this city as say Robin , or even BB. Tokyo is a different story, but that place is not her home.
"Raven," she repeats as she ungracefully yawns. She smiles apologetically, heat spreading over her cheeks as she tries to study his face. Though, it is quite dark and she is burned-out.
Yet, in Nevermore, Happy faints. What is going on?
"You're quite tired and even with my coat, I'm sure you're getting cold. Are you sure you can make it home or to the nearest hotel safely?"
Raven shrugs, not wanting to appear like a damsel in distress. "I think I'll be fine." He wouldn't know that this cold is only a minor inconvenience to her blended blood. "What about you? Does a kind gentleman such as yourself have somewhere close by to return to? Wouldn't want you to be wandering Jump City's streets all night."
When he lays his other hand over their conjoined greeting, does she remember that she's been holding his hand this whole time.
"I live much further away than the edges of the city, but it's still a short drive. Luckily, my car isn't far from here." He pauses, his grip loosening until he has her hand like a knight, ready to kiss the lady's knuckles. "Please allow this kind gentleman to lend you a ride to safety."
Since he still hasn't mentioned her being a Titan, she assumes that he doesn't know. He might be genuinely concerned for a human woman out alone, in the dark cold city streets, not knowing that most dangerous being here is her. Should she reveal that she lives in the T-Tower? Sure, its cold outside and it's late as hell, but if she takes his offer, the time she'll be able to spend with him would be short.
Though, they could always meet again.
"I suppose we can take your car, if you're sure it wouldn't be any trouble," she decides.
"No trouble at all," he rumbles as he leads the way.
Her hand returns to mess with a stray lock as they walk, the cold starting to get to her fatigued body. Wilson was right to be concerned in the end.
Wilson keeps his distance comfortable enough for her liking, until a fierce shiver wrecks through her when she notes how he closes the gap enough for her to feel a radiating heat from him. His crisp, sky-blue button down and black slacks don't seem very protective against the cold, but if he's radiating warmth like this, she's not going to complain. If anything, a sense of security overcomes her, so despite the slight intrusion into her bubble, she doesn't move away.
"I hope you don't mind me asking, but what is that book you're reading?"
Sensing his curiosity, she glances down at the cover as she turns the book with her free hand. "In a Rocket Made of Ice," she answers.
Though she doesn't really want to talk about that. She stuffs the book under the jacket and glances up at Wilson.
"So...what's your life like? How did you settle in Jump City?"
It is a desperate grab to start a conversation, and Raven feels as if she is failing miserably. She doesn't often casually talk to people outside of her team, and even then she doesn't talk much. Why does she want to do so with this man she hardly knows? She doesn't know the answer to that question- nor does she really care.
She does sense a tiny cloud pass through him before he chooses his words.
"My life isn't a fascinating thing to talk about. Aside from my dearest friend keeping me company, I live alone, though I can't complain since my time in the military has paved the way for being financially well off. I came to this city because of my hobbies as it is much easier to be closer to work and take great opportunities for entertainment. I'm even picking up another hobby to add to my collection of talents."
He chuckles, running his fingers through his silvery hair. "I must admit, I'm having a rough start, but I believe I'll pick it up in due time."
He gives her a side glance as they stroll into the late-night party section of the city where drunkards and druggies dwell. Raven keeps her attention on her surroundings, subconsciously shrinking back into herself as rowdy groups of people make obnoxious remarks all through this strip.
His voice reminds her that she's not walking alone through this. "What do you do for a living, if I may ask?"
"I... I am an aspiring artist," she lies, inwardly groaning. She doesn't have any experience in that field! She sketches for fun every now and then but when she does, it is almost never. "Well, small time, but y'know. Not easy. Um, what branch of the military were you in?" She inquires, offering a small smile.
One man, in his upper fifties, meanders toward the couple with a bottle of straight scotch in his hand. He seems to be continuing a conversation with someone else as he approaches, his altered brain making him disregard proper communication nor realize that he's not talking to the original person.
"C'mon in, we'll have a good time," he laughs, slurring his words.
He slings an arm over Raven, causing her to cringe from the unwarranted touch. She doesn't move for a few moments due to the cold and the shock of someone coming onto her in such a manner, as no one has ever done so before. She removes one arm from Wilson's coat and shoves the drunk off, quicken her pace. The hobbling man laughs at the reaction, his words lost to the wind as Raven hugs the large material closer to her. His laughter continues to echo behind them.
Wilson, who easily keeps up with her increased speed, leans over close enough to warrant him whispering. "Are you alright? If you want and allow it, I could drape my arm around you to ward off others like him."
"That would be... appreciated," she agrees with a small nod.
She was going to use the word "nice," but she feels as if she might come off as to eager. Her mind races as he gets closer. Not out of discomfort, but something else. This man is doing something to her and she can't comprehend what it is. Raven has only been around him for at least half an hour, yet she can't deny this need to be near him.
What the hell is going on?
She sighs, ordering Nevermore to fall silent and to stop asking questions. She'll meditate on this when she returns to her room. Knowing the answer might be for the benefit for herself and the team as a whole.
"How much farther is your car?" She inquires, mainly to keep her mind from solely being hyper-aware of him as he brushes against her and takes her under his arm as if they are long time lovers.
He is so much larger than she initially thought- a tall, foreboding presence. One that she can't tear herself away from, though she hopes his theory about keeping the sleazy away is right. Laughter and conversations swell from another club they pass. Her step quickens.
"It's just a few blocks away. The building its by is... very hard to miss." He says, still keeping up with her speed.
She can't help how her body stiffens as they get closer to a rowdy café with an accompanying bar. Some stragglers stagger around on the sidewalk. Woman cast lustful glances in their direction, probably eyeing down Wilson as the men stare hungrily at Raven. Though, the people shortly turn away or trip over themselves and mind their own business.
Wilson's fingers wind themselves in her hair, sending a irrepressible shiver crawling down her spine at an agonizingly slow pace. Her question as to why he's doing this fades when she sees the club women glare in jealousy before turning away. The leers she's getting from the men also dissolve.
The sketchier part of town soon fades behind them as they walk into the high dollar area. The streets are better lit and these particular party-goers seem to know how to keep to themselves despite still staggering around no different than the others. Even as they pass a dance hall crawling with such people, the building itself is breathtaking with its large Grecian columns and bright lights glowing through wide windows. Within is an on-going, classy party.
At this point, Raven feels a little under potential scrutiny as someone far removed from the rich folk. She avoids eye contact though she can feel the occasional gazes befall her. Alternative to focusing on them, she basks in Wilson's presence.
What ability does this man possess to make her want to stay in his close proximity? His calm disposition, perhaps hidden intellect- in fact, her instinct knows that he has said far less than he has let on. Most of the time, she recoils from human contact, doesn't like conversing with people yet he has so easily lulled her in and is starting to give rise to strange, new feelings. Her stomach is tumbling and twisting, her heart flutters painfully, all of these new sensations remind her of the flight or fight responses during battle.
It brings to mind the old song Love is a Battlefield and the phrase that all is fair in love and war.
Is what she's feeling akin to love? Already?
High attraction, for sure. There's something about him that calls out to her love of mystery. But romantic love? Unlikely, though she'll stew on that for the coming days. But she really wants to meet with him after this.
This reminds her that their short time together is about to end, confirmed by him drawing out a key ring from a pocket. Acknowledging this, she deflates slightly as she holds the coat tighter with a small sigh.
"Will I see you again?"
The man stops dead in his tracks, perceiving her as he silently contemplates.
"You might," Wilson gently smiles as he lifts his arm from her and resumes leading the way. "I have been delighted to walk with you."
Upon reaching his car, he leads her to the passenger's door and pulls himself away from her side, but grasps her petite hands in his larger ones so they would fully face each other.
"If we were to meet again, that choice depends on you, Raven," he softly says with a low rumble reverberating in his chest and throat. He bends down until his eyes are level with her and raises one of her hands very close to his face. A slight tremble shakes her body.
"For you see, I wouldn't mind another encounter with you again."
With that, he places a kiss on the back of her cool, silky hand. She simply does not expect such a light touch to cause her breath to hitch and flutter like a butterfly past her lips. As if her small sound emboldens him, Wilson lowers her hands to bring one of his into her hair. His fingers brush the back of her neck and ever so gently brushes his thumb across her cheek. All her body aims to do is visually consume every movement so she does not miss a second of this. Her mind races like wild mustangs, her heart pounds with the beat of the ancients, her surrounding dim to give light to this strange man who fills her vision.
"Where?" She breathes, her chilled skin warming under his light hold.
Nevermore is soundless on their own accord, aching with anticipation.
"Where would you feel most comfortable?" Wilson whispers, his blue eyes darting from her wide, doe-like ones and her reddened lips from her biting it.
He brushes his thumb across her lips to pull it from their toothy prison and rub the pain away if there is any. After a few moments of nothing but their wavering breathing, he gently pulls her head towards him and chastely kisses her cheek.
But he, shortly, pulls away to see her most assuredly flushed face.
Raven blinks again, her breathing shallow and slow. Her lips remain parted for a split second after he pulls away before closing them and brushing ashen fingers over the warm spot on her face.
"The café, the park...wherever," she whispers, reveling in the physical contact.
She's at a loss for coherent thoughts. For someone who always has a witty remark to make, dripping with sarcasm or disdain, there is nothing. Nothing at all.
This chance connection is making leap and bounds so quickly, but she's hard pressed to define it as rushed. Raven definitely wants to see Wilson again. And she wants to say something more, to thank him, but she just can't make her mouth move.
He continues lovingly brushing her cheek. "How about I get you home and before you leave, I'll write down my home number and we can discuss this when you're not... drop dead beautifully tired."
Warmth flames over her face. "That sounds perfect."
She is encompassed by all that is him as she relishes in his closeness, though the thought of this ending so soon dims her moment. The prospect of seeing him again does make her mood stable. And, to be honest with herself, it's difficult to feel sad when this man is so in tune with her and her needs. It's evident in how he opens the door for her and holds her hand as she is guided into the vehicle.
The engine roars to life when he settles in, facing her after buckling up. "Where to, Raven?"
Her name coming from his tongue, like a lover's caress.
"The bay," she firmly replies, head spinning in this sheer amount of new presented to her.
With another debonair grin, he commands the car out of the lot and into the street as she sighs, snuggling deeper into the seat. For how badly she screwed up earlier in handling Slade, the night is treating her too well. This is the first hint of something not quite right with this situation. Nevertheless.
"Thank you for driving me," she murmurs.
His head tilts to react her words, keeping his eyes on the road. "You're most welcome, my dear. I suppose it was a good thing you were caught in the cold and my evening plans falling through. Quite the coincidence, it seems." Wilson side eyes her then. "Almost magical, don't you agree?"
She grins back before he puts his full attention on driving. Yet despite the comfortable silence, her ever-so-paranoid mind activates. Just how far is she willing to let a stranger delve into her life? She gave him her real name and she told him to take her to the bay. Shouldn't make sure he doesn't find out that she's a hero? Maybe she can't think past the overwhelmingly magnetic chemistry clouding between them.
Raven senses a grim fog from his mind, though. There's a taste of confusion amidst the clear fullness of confidence. At a red light, he takes a moment to study her. The fog is quickly replaced with attraction, making Raven wonder what suddenly pleases him so. Is it the appearance of her in his clothes? She's heard that some people like seeing their significant others in their clothes. Perhaps he's one of them. A low, short groan rumbles from his side before the light shifts to green.
Eventually, he stops atop a hill overlooking the residential buildings near the bay. The tower sits in dark blue waves, its hard lines outlined by moonlight.
"Which building is yours?"
Raven purses her lips, chuckling breathlessly. She can't lie in the case that he may be the gentleman and escort her to her door nor will she entertain the thought of wandering into an apartment for appearance. Should she tell Wilson who she is? Would he treat her differently?
Nevermore remains barren of interaction amongst the physical figments of her emotions. This could be a sign to give Wilson a little trust.
"Uh... actually," she starts quietly, crossing her legs as she turns to face him in order to gauge his reaction, "it's the Titan Tower."
She fears the worst, her heart thrumming faster. So fast, she may vomit. It's obvious that she really craves this man's presence and now she's risking the chance of seeing him again. It's warm in the car, she thinks. But she doesn't dare look away from him, ignoring how the edges of her vision swirls and darkens, how it's so hard for her to breathe now.
Please, she mentally begs for her own health, please say something.
Wilson continues to look softly upon her, a small chuckle shaking his chest before he clears his throat and gives her such a gentle grin.
"I know."
Raven processes those two words for a moment. Her vision clearing, the threat of puking gone, and she is able to take a deep breath for sweet, sweet oxygen. Feeling momentarily better, she fully comprehends his statement.
Wilson knows that she lives in the Tower. That means he knows she's a hero, which means he probably knew that since she gave him her real name. Or, he already knew who she was before he approached her. Thus meaning that he has known this from the beginning. And he didn't say anything about it.
He was just following her lead, but why does she feel like he might have been toying with her? Were her instincts wrong about trusting him? He hasn't left her gaze, Raven's eyes petrified in place and her fingers worry into her hair.
Wilson, then, slowly reaches out with both hands to bring each one a kiss, the touch just as soft as the first time. Each point of contact melts away the sickening dread somehow, though she's still concerned for the truth of this situation.
"It wasn't hard to figure out. Your team has made the news countless times and does make the effort to mention individual heroes now and then, Raven. And the fact you had me drive you to the bay helped narrow things down considerably. I'm only glad to have helped a beautiful heroine in return for her thankless services."
His words only serve to remind her that she made a mistake mindlessly giving Wilson her real name. She shouldn't have accepted the ride as well. Just two more mistakes to add to her already shitty day. And if Robin were to find out... she'll earn another forty-five minutes of lecturing. All because she just had to be obvious the one time she gets out into the city as a civilian after ages of her last visit. Just one mistake after another, as usua-.
So quickly, yet so unbelievably gentle, a large warm hand snakes through her nape to pull her over the center console where her lips gasp into a kiss.
Her first kiss.
Raven accepts the kiss with ease and lets her mind temporarily become occupied. She's always read about how, if one kisses the right person, it can be a wonderful experience. And gods, does this feel so magical. She doesn't want this to end, it's downright addicting. Especially when he pulls away for the merest moment, in that time she thought he might have been done, when he softly moans and comes in for a second kiss. His second hand reaches for her side, practically pulling her out the seat. That's when she notices exactly where her own hands are.
His hair, like silk. Skin firm, yet soft. She has this massive man by a handful of hair and his neck and he's trying to breathe her in like a man in need. She can feel a veteran storm of desire blend with her own foreign one, the sum sending her psyche in a whirlwind of unknown lust.
Just when this strangeness starts scaring her, he pulls away and lessens his hold on her.
"Well," Raven starts, her attempts at speaking trailing into the distance as she can only express a raw sense of mirth and glee. "I am very fortunate to have met you, Wil- Joseph."
He follows her chuckle, taking the time to brush through her locks with warm fingers. "I am the one honored by your presence. Now, I did say I'd give you my contact."
He brings her hand to his lips again before reaching over her lap to access the glove compartment. As Wilson shuffles around, Raven enjoys his form hovering over hers but still so dangerously close. She almost wants him to graze her legs. She wants to know how his gentle attention would feel to each part of her body. Never before has she needed touch so badly.
Another kiss, though quick, pulls her from her mind. Back to the moment, she watches over his surprisingly neat penmanship. Smiling at her once again, he pushes the note into the palm of her hand, taking great care to fold her fingers over it.
"I have business cross-country, but I'll be back in two days. Call me then and we'll plan something."
What has she done to deserve this? This is like a romance novel. Fate has never been so kind, so there must be a catch to this happiness. Like what if he is married? No, Raven can't believe he's married if he's attempting to woo a hero. What if his plans were with another lady friend that was going to be for tonight- or has a different one every night. What if this is how he treats every woman he comes across? Wilson is good looking and obviously moderately wealthy.
The calming buzz that has accompanied her all night since leaving the café is drowned by terror. If this sort of think happens often for him, he might not have experienced this kiss as she has. It starts to sour the taste remaining on her lips.
She shouldn't have come out. She should have just stayed in her room. Here she is, doing everything outside of her comfort zone which teased a pleasure never felt before before forcing her to build her barriers up again. Raven has to ask, though. If she can find the right way to ask it.
"There aren't any- I mean, you aren't-." Her eyes start to water, her throat feeling brittle.
His hand finds hers again. "I'm single and not seeing anyone, if that is your concern."
Wow, she thinks, he can read her so well. As much as she loves her friends, not one was this quick to pick up on her subtleties.
"I will admit that I have not considered company for a long while. A self-enforced bout of abstinence, if you will. Besides my clients for work and my only friend, I have been quite alone. Work has taken over my life." Wilson grins, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand.
"Not that I'm complaining, I enjoy what I do very much. It's what I live for, but it has never filled that empty space I've been ignoring for years."
He sighs then, casting the briefest of nervous glances. "I used to be married. But things didn't work out. I haven't seen her again after a... terrible mishap. When we split is when I realized that the emptiness was still there during our relationship. I had hoped joining the military and/or getting married would have filled it."
Wilson looks away, his other hand gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles practically glow white in the darkness. "If I couldn't find contentment, I would dedicate my life to my work. I would create no more ties if only to save me from the heart-wrenching pain of loneliness."
"But you, Raven, are a risk for me. One I am willing to take that leap of faith for. If you'll have me."
Her feminine instinct rises to the occasion, a pale hand cupping the side of Wilson's face for a fleeting moment. His words taste real, honest, full of painful truth and she can only respond by letting down her emotional walls- just for him. A smile falls upon her ashen lips.
"I'd love nothing more. Thank you. I'm sorry for being such a mess during our first impression. Tonight turned out better than I hoped for, and honestly, I wasn't hoping for anything beyond a cup of tea."
He gives a breathless chuckle, leaning into her hand until his lips touch her palm. She's not sure whether that was a kiss or an accident, but through it she feels uninhibited satisfaction pulse from Wilson like a lighthouse circling through the stormy horizon. Raven starts to pull away, unsure if she should pry when a warm hand pushes hers back to his face, his lips gently plants themselves dead center of her palm.
There's no mistaking that intent, his action hints at something downright lustful under his calm energy.
"You're welcome, Raven. You, of all people, have the right to relax from the stress of being in your position. Though, you should keep in mind that you should never apologize for finally letting loose." He brings her hand down, but doesn't let go as he positions his free one on the wheel again. "Would you like me to drop you off closer to the bay?"
Raven nods in agreement, a small smile spreads across her face accompanied by a light laugh. "Yes, please."
As he navigates through the streets once more, she brushes her free fingers over her warm lips, feeling the raised corners and actually missing the intimate contact. She glances down at their entangled hands, taken aback by this strange man and this foreign situation she has found herself in. She feels warmth pulse through her, her cheeks the warmest of all.
Wilson parks the car overlooking the moonlit bay water crashing upon the white sand with a dull roar. The Tower in the distance is dark and casts a long shadow over the rocky island and surrounding waters. Neither as serene and mysterious as the silver-haired man.
"Keep the coat," he murmurs. "You can return it when we next meet. Or never."
He winks right when Raven turns to exit the car which gives her a double take, her lips stuck in a grin as she embraces the outside atmosphere.
"Thank you for tonight, Wilson." She tucks a stray lock behind her ear, wondering if she should say something more. "I'll call you in two days time."
As she gently closes the car door, he nods at her. She folds the coat around her frame, crossing her arms over her midsection as she stares out at the dark waters before ascending into the air. Casting one last look over her shoulder, she's slightly disappointed that window tint is so dark though she still gives a tentative, but meaningful wave goodbye. With that, she begins her flight across the ever moving abyss below to the safety of the Tower.
When she is close enough to the island, she phases to her room. The familiarity washes over her senses, though when she takes in a deep breath her nose picks up the acidity of ocean spray, but then she finds a unique scent.
Wilson.
With a satisfied smile, she lays the coat on her bed as she glides to her closet. Making quick work of the jeans and lace top, she pulls the oversized t-shirt over her head and performs her usual nighttime hygiene routine.
Resting on her bed, thoughts from tonight linger in her mind. The conversation, the walk through the city, the more... sensual things that happened. Every moment swims endlessly in her head. Raven can't believe that a simple night to the cafe had turned into a completely different experience for her. But she is glad it did.
After thinking for a moment, she extends her mind's eye in search of his presence. Is he still nearby?
Her powers have improved over the years, but from the Tower, she can only reach two miles into the city. His aura is already beyond her senses. Instead, she pulls the coat to herself and drowns in the scent until sleep claims her.