Chapter 10: A Second Chance


Kara's eyes snap open, the abrupt sound cutting through the fog of sleep. She groans, a reluctant return to wakefulness, her limbs protesting the disturbance. John's resonant voice penetrates the haze, calling her name. Blinking against the morning light, she discovers John and Alex looming at the bedside, their presence awkwardly interrupting her personal space.

As Kara attempts to rise, her furrowed brow reveals confusion—she's inexplicably restrained. Her gaze descends, and realization dawns as she spies Mon-El's arm wrapped securely around her, holding her in an unintended embrace. A crimson hue paints her cheeks, embarrassment intensifying under the scrutiny of John and Alex, turning this private cocoon into an unexpectedly public spectacle.

In an attempt to free herself from the compromising situation, Kara gently shakes Mon-El awake. Her whispered pleas, laced with discomfort, aim to keep this shared moment sheltered from the prying eyes of her friends. "Mon-El?" she murmurs, the blush deepening as she becomes increasingly aware of the intimate entanglement. Growing more insistent, she mutters louder, but Mon-El remains blissfully oblivious, snuggling closer. Groaning at the disturbance, he reluctantly opens his eyes, and any trace of a smile vanishes as he notices Kara's mortified expression. John's entrance, marked by a boisterous greeting, startles him, akin to a teenager caught in the act by an imposing parent. Clearing his throat, Mon-El adjusts himself, shifting into an upright position. "Sorry," he mumbles, cheeks tinged with embarrassment.

John, unaffected by the earlier scene, moves on to more pressing matters. "We couldn't catch Lillian Luthor. This means both of you are likely in danger," he informs them, his tone now grave. "We're going to try and get Roulette to cooperate and turn in Luthor, but it might not be easy. Considering the circumstances, it's best for both of you to enter witness protection, preferably separately," he advises, a measured seriousness underscoring his words.

Kara frowns, a hint of worry etching her features at the notion of being separated. She's about to voice her objection when Mon-El beats her to it, his frustration palpable. "Can't we just go to a safe house with a bodyguard or something?" he pleads, desperation tinging his voice. "I'm sorry, but I don't want to pretend to be someone else again. Seven months was too long," he adds, glancing nervously at John's stern expression. "And I... I'd rather stay in a safe house with Kara," he stammers, his eyes briefly seeking hers, a plea for unity.

Kara, a determined glint in her eyes, smiles faintly, silently affirming Mon-El's stance. Turning back to John, she asserts, "I agree with Mon-El," her tone unwavering, resolute. John sighs, skeptical about the prospect of the two living together under witness protection. "Yes, it's possible, but you will not be able to leave the house for as long as this takes," he warns, gauging their preparedness for the potential challenges.

Kara challenges Alex with a defiant look, anticipating objection, but her sister remains silent, arms folded and scowling. John, sensing potential conflicts, directs a stern look at Alex, who sighs in compliance, deferring to her boss. "Fine. There's a place that would work," John concedes, turning slightly to address Alex. "Agent Danvers will keep surveillance from the house across the street."

Mon-El, picking up on Alex's unease, observes the unspoken tension. John's authoritative gaze coerces her into reluctant agreement. "The Williams will be placed somewhere else in witness protection for their protection. There should be no contact between the four of you," John declares, glancing at his watch with a sense of urgency. "Agent Fox and I will handle your hospital discharge papers." With that, he exits the room, leaving Alex to follow suit, avoiding further conflict and leaving the trio to navigate the impending changes.

However, Kara didn't foresee how awkward it would be. Her lingering looks, initially innocuous, became inadvertently revealing, repeatedly caught by him, creating a series of embarrassing moments. Assisting Mon-El with his physical therapy, a gesture meant to be supportive, unexpectedly turned out to be more intimate than she had imagined. His glistening skin, a testament to his effort each time he sweated, added an unexpected layer to the awkwardness, creating a palpable tension in the air. It became incredibly challenging to avert her gaze, especially when he bit his bottom lip and absentmindedly licked it while cooking in the kitchen, a subtle gesture that sent unexpected shivers down her spine. The occasional moments when his eyes roved over her heightened the tension, causing her entire body to heat up.

In the last few weeks, the awkwardness had reached a point where Kara found it challenging to meet his eyes or engage in conversation without stumbling over her words, a subtle admission of the emotional complexity that had woven itself into their interactions. The unspoken tension hung in the air, thickening with each passing day, creating a delicate dance of glances and gestures that neither knew how to navigate. It was a silent acknowledgment of something unspoken, a dance of emotions that had taken a life of its own, leaving Kara feeling adrift in a sea of unresolved feelings and unspoken words.

Mon-El is bewildered by Kara's recent distant behavior. Even his attempts at humor are met with uncomfortable silence and avoidance, like jokes echoing in a cavernous void. A growing worry takes root in him — did she hear him say he loved her? Is that why she's acting so uncomfortably? The uncertainty festers, a dark storm cloud overshadowing his mood as he starts to fear that living together has become a burden for her, or worse, that she's beginning to despise him. Each night, his inner critic intensifies, its whispers becoming thunderous, scrutinizing every action, making it difficult to find peace in sleep, the night turning into a battlefield for his restless mind.

Restless nights pile up, pushing Mon-El to devise a plan to mend his friendship with Kara. He resolves to retract what he said that night at the hospital, fearing that he might lose the friendship that means the world to him. Missing her terribly, he decides to take action, his heartache becoming a driving force. One night, after hearing Kara leave her room, he musters the courage to limp out of his own, each step echoing the heaviness in his heart, and asks if he could have just five minutes of her time, a plea wrapped in vulnerability.

Kara immediately feels the weight of emotional overload settling in as she sits on the other side of the table, facing Mon-El. "Kara... I—" he begins, but she cuts him off, feeling the awkwardness of looking up at him as he stands, shifting uncomfortably, the tension palpable in the air. "D-Do you want to sit?" she offers, a small lifeline extended. Mon-El looks around and agrees, "Yeah... that's a good idea," settling into the chair and nervously folding his hands, fingers entwining like vines seeking support.

"I, uh..." Nervously scratching his chin, he stammers, "At the hospital, wh-when we were lying down. Um... I s-said that I love you." He takes a deep breath, his nerves escalating as he notices Kara removing her glasses and rubbing her forehead, a visual signal of the storm brewing within her. A wave of concern washes over him, fearing that he has made her uncomfortable and inadvertently worsened the situation, a sense of regret clinging to his words.

"Y-yo-you went to sleep." He gulps, captivated when her big blue eyes look up and shimmer in the warm light, a moment frozen in time. "I-I sh-shouldn't h-have said that... n-not then, uh..." Stammering more, he loses any remaining composure, his vulnerability exposed. "Mon-El—" Kara sighs, attempting to intervene, uncertain if she's ready to discuss this now, the conversation a delicate dance on a tightrope.

"I'm not saying this to change your mind," Mon-El interrupts. "I-I get that you don't love me... no—not in the same way." Kara opens her mouth to object, but he continues, "No... that's good, that's fine... I j-just want you to be comfortable again. I'm not going to pursue anything, okay?" He looks down at his hands, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to make her more uncomfortable, his vulnerability shielded by downcast eyes. "So..." He clears his throat, "Now we just ignore it, right?" He takes a deep breath, "We can let it go." Glancing up, his breath hitches, her eyes resembling comets, a celestial mystery he can't decipher.

Kara furrows her eyebrows, attempting to gather her thoughts. Mon-El misunderstands what she's thinking; he believes she doesn't love him in the same way, a misinterpretation that adds to the complexity of their emotions. A wave of panic rises within her, and she's not ready to confront her feelings, the emotional storm within her echoing the turmoil outside.

"Uh..." Kara gulps, "Th-thank you for being honest, Mon-El. I..." She tries to explain herself, but the words elude her without causing further panic, the untamed emotions escaping her grasp. However, Mon-El, sensing her hesitation, quickly looks at his watch, wanting to end the conversation before hearing her potential rejection, a shield against the vulnerability.

"Let's just sleep, okay?" Rising from his seat, he gives her a small smile, a brave facade. "Good talk." He raises his hand for a high five. Kara chuckles; he never fails to try and make her laugh, a lighthearted moment in the emotional tempest. She high fives him. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" He asks again, not waiting for her response as he retreats to his room, closing the door behind him, a symbolic barrier between them.

Kara stays where she is, fixating on his closed door, replaying the entire exchange in her head. The soft glow of the table lamp casts a warm, muted light on her furrowed brows. She sighs, a mixture of frustration and self-disappointment washing over her, the emotional undertow pulling her deeper. Why can't she just say it back? She knows she loves him! She's known it for a while! It's been growing like a quiet ember in her heart, a flame she's afraid to let burn too brightly.

She recalls the sheer brokenness she felt when she believed he was gone, the regret of not having expressed her feelings. But now, in this moment, with him alive and present, she still finds herself unable to voice what she so desperately wants him to hear. Frustration mounts, and she groans, letting her head gently rest against the cool surface of the table. In this quiet, solitary moment, she grapples with her own perceived inadequacy, feeling a profound sense of hopelessness settle in her chest, a weight that refuses to lift.


Kara bubbles with excitement, her anticipation fueling her giddy demeanor as she and Barry clandestinely await Mon-El's entrance to his secret 13th birthday celebration. The duo has surreptitiously escaped their rooms in the early morning, immersing themselves in the joyful task of adorning the common room with the assistance of Mon-El's favorite lunch lady, who goes the extra mile by baking a delectable cake. The common room, transformed into a festive haven, is poised for the grand moment when Mon-El will walk in and be greeted by the resounding chorus of "surprise."

However, reality diverges drastically from Kara's idyllic vision. Mon-El, confronted by the colossal banner exclaiming "Happy birthday Mon-El" and suddenly enveloped by the cacophony of jubilant screams, doesn't respond as expected. Instead of joy, his eyes widen in panic, and a sense of dread overcomes him. A visceral "no" escapes his lips, and chaos ensues as he systematically dismantles the carefully crafted decorations, hurling his birthday cake to the ground. Even the intervention of two social workers can't quell his distress, as he persistently cries and begs to be released. The ordeal culminates with Mon-El being ushered to the nurse's office, where he's sedated, leaving Kara aghast at the profound fear etched in his eyes.

Barry, in contrast, grapples with the aftermath, his disappointment palpable at the destruction wrought. The remainder of the day unfolds without a glimpse of Mon-El for Kara and Barry. As night falls, Kara, propelled by concern and empathy, stealthily ventures out of her room to seek him out. She discovers Mon-El ensnared in a nightmarish realm, sobbing and convulsing, his distress manifesting in incoherent murmurs, like the elusive word "jeans."

"Mon-El?" Kara calls softly, cautiously approaching him without physical contact. "Mon-El, it's me, Kara," she reiterates, her lower lip caught between her teeth in anxious anticipation. As her hand gently finds its place on his arm, a palpable tension surges through him. Mon-El's eyes flicker open, initially registering fright as they adjust to the dimly lit surroundings. Kara's reassurances gradually pacify him, and the realization dawns that he's safe in her presence.

"Kara," Mon-El whispers, tears welling up anew, a profound sense of guilt enveloping him for the havoc he wreaked earlier. Kara, moved by compassion, closes the distance and envelops him in a comforting embrace. Mon-El reciprocates, his tears flowing freely as he apologizes.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he sobs, the weight of remorse palpable in his words. Kara hushes him, her gentle hand tracing soothing circles on his back, providing a sanctuary for his turbulent emotions. As the storm of emotions subsides, he withdraws from the embrace, and Kara, with tender care, wipes away his tears.

"Kara, I'm sorry for what I did. I—" Mon-El sighs, his gaze falling to his hands, grappling with the unspoken explanation. Kara, understanding his struggle, intervenes, shaking her head with an empathetic smile.

"It's okay," she reassures him, emphasizing her lack of anger. With a deep breath, Kara reaches behind her neck, extracting a necklace bestowed upon her by her mother. The pendant, a symbol of protection, holds a significant meaning.

"My mother gave me this necklace. It's for protection, to keep me safe," she shares, her eyes reflecting sincerity. "I want you to have it. So it could keep you safe," she declares, her kindness radiating.

Mon-El attempts to protest, shaking his head, but Kara gently thwarts his objections. She takes the necklace and delicately drapes it around his neck. Mon-El, holding the necklace in his hands, feels an overwhelming surge of emotion. His eyes well with tears, a poignant acknowledgment of his perceived undeserving nature.

"Kara," Mon-El begins, attempting to convey his gratitude, but she cuts him off with a firm yet tender assertion.

"You're my best friend, Mon," Kara whispers, her smile widening. Mon-El sighs, his arms encircling her in a grateful embrace.

"Thank you," he murmurs, closing his eyes, finding solace in her presence. "Thank you."


The morning light filters into Kara's room, and after the uncomfortable conversation of the previous night, her senses are greeted by a delightful aroma. The air is infused with the scents of some of her favorite breakfast delights—pancakes, bacon, hash browns, and donuts. An irresistible fragrance that propels Kara out of her bed in a comically swift fashion, her eagerness palpable.

Mon-El, already in the kitchen, chuckles at her enthusiastic entrance. "What's the occasion?" Kara queries, her confusion evident. However, her perplexity deepens when Mon-El raises an eyebrow, staring at her as if she's sprouted a second head. "What?" she asks, a sudden self-consciousness creeping in. Mon-El, amused, starts, wondering if she's teasing him, but the genuine bewilderment in her eyes is too endearing. He can't help but chortle, "It's your birthday." Kara's eyes widen, the realization hitting her—she had forgotten her own birthday, the recent tension around Mon-El overshadowing the celebration.

"You okay in there?" Mon-El jests. Kara looks up at him and nods, laughter bubbling up. "Yeah, I'm just shocked I forgot." A blush tints her cheeks, and Mon-El joins in her laughter, a smile breaking the residual tension. Pulling out a chair for her, he exclaims, "Come on! I made all of your favorites!" He serves her a plate, a marked contrast to yesterday's strained breakfast. This one is lighthearted and enjoyable.

As they share the morning, they delve into a nostalgic conversation, reminiscing about old, funny memories, many from Kara's senior year of college. Laughter becomes their companion, the kind that has them holding their sides due to its intensity. By the end of the morning, Kara is pleasantly satiated. "Thank you, Mon-El," she smiles at him, expressing her gratitude. But just as warmth settles between them, a knock on the door interrupts the moment, and the smile fades from Mon-El's face.

Kara observes the shift in Mon-El's mood, her concern evident as she's about to inquire about the cause. However, he beats her to it, mentioning, "Alex is here," attempting to force a smile. It's not that he's upset about Alex's presence — not entirely. Rather, it's the disruption of their cozy bubble that bothers him. Laughing with Kara again was a welcome relief after a month of tension.

"I'm going to make the cake, do you mind opening the door?" Mon-El gives her a playful wink before heading to the kitchen to get started.

Sharing a similar sentiment, Kara frowns, enjoying the rare ease of their interaction. She sighs and approaches the door, preparing to welcome her sister. There's an underlying tension between Kara and Alex, a fact that doesn't escape Kara's notice. Great, she thinks, putting on a fake smile as she lets Alex in.

They engage in a relatively uneventful round of 'go fish' a couple of times, Kara's mind more focused on Mon-El than the game. As they transition to lunch, Alex takes the opportunity to go over protocols while Mon-El, eating alone by the oven, also keeps an eye on the cake's progress. Post-lunch, they settle in to watch a movie, Mon-El taking on the task of decorating the cake. His antics making Kara laugh each time he playfully blocks her view of the masterpiece in the making. Alex, while rolling her eyes at their dorky exchange, mostly ignores them, engrossed in the movie.

Mon-El crafts a delectable chocolate caramel mousse cake, leaving Kara eagerly asking for seconds and thirds. They then settle in to watch another movie together, though the tension from before returns, much to Kara's chagrin.

Meanwhile, Alex focuses on systematically checking the place for non-FBI issued cameras or microphones. It's not that she suspects a break-in or harbors suspicions about Mon-El and Kara; it's simply protocol — better safe than sorry.

As the movie wraps up and Alex finishes her meticulous inspection, they all converge around the coffee table in anticipation of the moment when Kara unwraps her presents. Kara has received gifts from Barry and Winn, both delivered through Alex.

Alex is the first to present her gifts, opting for practical items that Kara would find useful during their time at the safe house. However, she adds a delightful twist by including a USB drive. When Kara inserts it, she's met with a cameo video from her favorite 90s boy band NSYNC. The band members wish her a happy birthday and even sing a snippet of her favorite song, prompting Kara to squeal with joy and envelop her older sister in a tight, appreciative hug.

Barry follows, bringing a couple of gag gifts with the intention of teasing Kara in front of Mon-El. However, the unexpected twist is that Mon-El ends up turning beet red, adding an unintentional element of embarrassment.

Winn takes a more nostalgic route, gifting Kara old-school DVDs of movies she has missed during the ordeal. It's a thoughtful gesture, allowing her to catch up on some entertainment that she might have missed.

Lastly, it's Mon-El's turn. His gift, distinctively personal, manages to steal the spotlight, overshadowing many of the other presents in terms of emotional impact (as always).

Mon-El surprises Kara with a profoundly thoughtful gift—a painting that ingeniously blends her deceased birth family with her living adopted family, even incorporating the Wests. Positioned at the center of the artwork, Kara is flanked by her birth family on the left and her adopted family on the right. Remarkably, Mon-El excluded himself from the portrait, a detail that breaks Kara's heart for him.

Tears stream down Kara's face as she gazes at the painting, unable to contain her emotions. She whispers through her sniffles, "When?" Her eyes search his for an answer. How could he have orchestrated this during their lockdown? Mon-El responds with a gentle smile from across the coffee table, "I had it commissioned last year. Winn can easily break when interrogated, so I had Barry keep it a secret for a while." His attempt at lightening the mood with a joke only adds to the overwhelming sentiment of the moment.

Carefully placing the painting on the table, Kara moves toward Mon-El and embraces him tightly, a warm hug that brings tears even to Alex's eyes, prompting her to discreetly turn away. Surprisingly, it's not from discomfort, rather, it's from a desire to give the two some semblance of privacy. Mon-El's deliberate exclusion from the artwork subtly chips away at the elder Danvers' lingering distaste for him.

As Mon-El and Kara break from their heartfelt embrace, he gently wipes away her tears, leaving her with a warm smile as she turns her attention back to the painting. Mon-El, however, begins to feel a hint of awkwardness lingering. He has another gift for Kara, but it doesn't seem right to give it now with Alex here.

Alex seems picks up on the growing tension and decides to gracefully exit the scene. "That's my cue to leave," she announces, standing up and offering a genuine smile to Kara. "Happy birthday, sis...and please warn me if you're going to have more personal talk. I'd rather not listen to that," she adds in a playful tone, subtly emphasizing her role in ensuring their safety by eavesdropping on their conversations. Mon-El blushes, a tinge of embarrassment coloring his cheeks, while Kara bites her lower lip, her mind wandering to the conversation Alex slyly alludes to.

Once Alex leaves, Mon-El clears his throat, attempting to summon the courage needed for the next gift—deeply personal to him. "Kara?" he asks shyly. "I, uh... have something else I want to give you." Nervously biting his lower lip, he looks up at her as she places her presents on the dining table. "What's up?" Kara turns towards him, leaning against the table. Mon-El takes a deep breath, cautiously getting up from the ground and handing her a smaller wrapped gift. As Kara opens it, she's a bit confused about why he was so nervous, only to find a journal inside. Looking up at him, she notices his unease.

"I, uh... wrote in it," he stammers, his nerves escalating with anticipation of her reading his deepest kept secrets. "I, uh... met a therapist, and she told me to write down my feelings. And, uh... stuff I've been too much of a coward to talk about." Mon-El takes a deep breath, looking down at his booted injured foot. "I know... this friendship has been emotionally one-sided at times, but that..." He gestures towards the journal. "should, uh... place us on an even playing field... put everything on the table." He gulps, looking at her, worried that he may have overstepped once again. However, Kara isn't uncomfortable because of the strong meaning of the gift; she feels guilty.

She's been awkward around him, subjecting him to months of silent suffering because she couldn't admit that she loves him too, deeply. It's been unfair to him, considering all he's done to make her happy. She owes him an apology. She owes him a confession. She takes a deep breath. "I haven't been fully honest with you, Mon-El," she finally confesses, nervously biting her lip.

Mon-El frowns, puzzled about what she could be referring to. He mentally replays their interactions, finding no instances where she wasn't honest. Sensing his rising anxiety, Kara hops off the table and stands upright. She lets out a slightly awkward laugh, attempting to ease his concerns, which manages to bring a small smile to his face.

"I'm...uh..." She continues, "I'm great at talking about my feelings when they don't really involve..." She trails off, attempting to overcome her nerves, "when they don't really involve..." She repeats, growing a bit frustrated with herself, "talking about my feelings for you." She blurts out, determined not to backtrack. Looking into Mon-El's eyes, she notices his increasing confusion. "Well...unless it's about you ticking me off or annoying me," she jokes, trying to coax a smile from Mon-El. She loves his smile.

"B-but, I don't want to do that anymore." Kara adds, "w-with you...uh..." her voice trembles as she takes a step closer to him. The air thickens with tension, a palpable anticipation weaving around them. She hesitates for a second before taking his hand into her own. He looks down at their hands, then back at her, wondering if he should be feeling anticipation or fear.

"The last several months have been tough, for me. Y-you were gone." She gulps, "and I was broken." The weight of unspoken words hangs heavily in the room. She takes another step, and as she looks up into his eyes, there's a storm of emotions playing across her face. "I didn't get to say goodbye." Kara takes a breath, but finds it harder to breathe as time continues its march. "But it wasn't just that..." She pauses before taking off her glasses and placing them on the coffee table. When she straightens to her full height, Mon-El's breath hitches, and he whispers, "comets," making Kara smile as she looks into his gray eyes, a reflection of the sun against the moon.

"I was mad when you left, because I didn't get to tell you..." She gets closer to him, the distance between them now less than a few inches, "how much..." Her eyes briefly fall down to his lips, before meeting his eyes again. The room seems to hold its breath. "I'm in love with you."

She's so close, Mon-El thinks, Mon-El's senses heighten, attuned to the warmth emanating from her body. In the intimate closeness, the gentle caress of her hand through the back of his head sends a shiver down his spine, the homey fragrance of her hair enveloping him like a comforting embrace. He feels her run her hand through the back of his head and pull him down, kissing him.

Responding warmly, he wraps his arm around her back, drawing her in, while his other hand delicately traces the contours of her neck. A soft sound of pleasure escapes her, harmonizing with the shared intimacy. Kara reciprocates, her arms enveloping him, each heartbeat deepening the connection.

As the closeness builds, they attempt to retreat to the couch, yet Mon-El's injured leg becomes entangled in the coffee table legs, disrupting their balance. The abrupt consequence is met with a resonant expression of discomfort from Mon-El, "Ow!" He yelps, his eyes moistening from the sudden jolt.

"Ooh!" Kara exclaims, concern etched across her features for inadvertently causing him discomfort. "I'm so sorry." Her grimace accompanies a gentle attempt to help him up, her hand placed tenderly on his injured leg. "Are you okay?" she inquires, her eyes reflecting genuine concern.

Nodding through the discomfort, Mon-El maintains a smile. "Clearly, we don't know this place well enough," he chuckles, his hand moving toward her face to delicately brush the curls away.

"Kara, I've loved you since you first entered my room and helped me through my nightmare," Mon-El whispers, his hands gently tracing over the scar leftover from the baton and his eyes twinkling eyes radiating love and warmth, causing Kara to blush.

Mon-El gracefully moves into another kiss, a gentle yet charged connection with a simple peck on her lips. As he withdraws, a radiant smile adorns his face, mirroring the happiness gleaming in her eyes. "I'm happy if you're happy," he whispers tenderly, the sincerity of his words evident.

In response, she nods, a silent acknowledgment of the shared joy, and she draws him in further, her arms encircling his neck. The next kiss is more profound, a lingering testament to the depth of their emotions, an unspoken language that expresses the love they share.

Mon-El delicately slips his tongue into her mouth, the kiss deepening, but both are startled by a sudden thump against the window. Their intimate moment is further interrupted by a notification beep from Kara's phone, drawing their attention away from each other.

Kara groans against his chest and pushes herself away, grabbing her FBI-issued phone from the table. It can only be Alex. Sighing, she reads the message, annoyed at the interruption. However, her annoyance turns quickly into embarrassment, and she turns bright red as she reads the message aloud. Mon-El looks over her shoulder and bursts into laughter when he reads it too:

I can hear you! Stop it!

Kara bites her lower lip, her eyes sparkling with joy as she looks at Mon-El's face. The sound of laughter echoes in the room, a harmonious blend of their shared amusement. She drops the phone on the couch, no longer the focus as her attention shifts to him.

With a gentle and inviting gesture, she extends her arm towards him. "Stay with me?" she asks, a sudden shyness adding a charming vulnerability to her expression.

Mon-El nods with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting his affection. "I'd love to." He takes her hand, their fingers interlocking seamlessly, and together, they leave the room, a silent promise of togetherness lingering in the air.


Apologizes if the editing/writing isn't great...it's been a difficult October.