I am so sorry I am late!
Thank you all so much for your patience ﾠ
(The good news is that I have organised the wedding cake, the flowers, and the engagement photography shoot. My head is absolutely fried and I resent the amount of time and paperwork this took me).
Also, I had to rework a significant chunk of this because it was the Wrong Emotion hahaha (kill me)
Enjoy! xxx
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A scalpel shone under white lab lights. Needles approached, wielded by gloved hands. The flash of a cunning smile, adorned by diamonds and pearls. Pain raced through Anya's bones and her blood and all she wanted was to scream, but she couldn't move, couldn't even breathe, the air was trapped inside her and -
Anya gasped awake. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears, and her sweat-soaked pyjamas clung to her small frame. Alarm blared through her, pushing her into a sitting position, but she moved too quickly, and soon Anya had her head in her hands to try to stop the dizziness from taking over her.
Breathe in, she tried to remind herself. The air trapped in her lungs during her nightmare struggled to get out, and it resided within Anya's ribs like a trapped balloon, pushing against her from the inside.
Her hand seemed to move on its own as she reached out for her phone and typed out a quick message, and all the while her lungs were on the verge of bursting.
Are you awake?
She didn't have to wait long for his name to flash up on the screen, and Anya quickly accepted the call.
"Is everything alright? It's rare for you to try to talk this late."
Even though Anya just knew that he was trying to sound calm, the worry managed to creep into his voice, and it filled her with guilt.
"I'm - I'm s-sorry -'' Her words came out as gasps. "I - just - I just woke up and - I'm scared -"
Immediately, Damian softened his voice. "It's alright, Anya. It wasn't real."
"It was real," Anya choked out, and shameful tears singed at the corners of her eyes. "It was real - for both of us."
"Anya…" He sighed, and just from the tone of his voice, Anya guessed that he had completely stopped what he was doing to give her his full attention. "You don't need to worry about me too."
"I can't help it."
"I know."
"It's just…" She forced a deep breath in. Then another. "I can't get the images out of my head. I was back at the lab, and the Director, she was there, and so were you, and it was so much worse because she was hurting you and - oh, Damian, it was awful!"
A fear that she had never known revealed itself to her then, and her eyes watered with more tears. She was too tired to hold them back.
"What if… I'm not… the only one… she's after?"
She said it in such a quiet voice that she wondered if the microphone had even picked it up, but it must have been received by Damian because he sighed softly in response.
"I'm okay, Anya. I promise. I wish I was there with you, so you would know that I'm telling the truth."
Anya wanted to say so much, but for once, she didn't know how. How could she express her gratitude in something as simple as words? How could she condense her entire heart into just one sentence?
"Thank you," she said eventually, meaning those two simple words with all of her heart, but she knew it wasn't enough. "I think I'll feel better when I see you tomorrow."
"Me too," said Damian. "I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks."
And, despite the continuing tears, she couldn't help the smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
"You've seen me at school!"
"You know what I mean. I'm drowning in paperwork and the only thought keeping me going is knowing I'll get to spend time with you tomorrow."
"That's really sweet."
"I'm not kidding. Thinking of you, and thinking of being with you, and being with you… I swear it's the only thing keeping me sane right now."
Anya sniffed and wiped her eyes, but as she turned her head, she caught the time on her alarm clock, and shock ran through her. "Damian, it's two in the morning! How are you still awake?"
The click of a pen in the background.
"Guess."
She had seen him study enough times to be able to picture the pile of papers shrouded around him, like they were pressing into his personal space. He always started off so neatly, with dedicated piles of workbooks and textbooks arranged by priority of assignment, but as the hours of work wore on, the piles inevitably shifted into each other, becoming more and more undefined over time.
"You need to stop studying and go to bed! Otherwise you won't be able to wake up for school tomorrow!"
"I'm not studying."
Anya opened her mouth, about to express her disbelief, before she remembered why she had barely seen Damian for the past few weeks.
"Exactly how much paperwork did Mr Handel give you?" She was almost afraid to ask.
"Possibly enough to fuel the sun for another thousand years, although who can say for sure."
"Have you found what you need?"
Damian huffed.
"Well, I have the policies of each of the companies under the Group. I have project lists and timelines and minutes of meetings, risk assessments, agendas, reports, drafts and SBARs - don't ask - and notebooks and folders and reference materials and stuff."
Deep breath.
"I have never been more bored in my life, and it doesn't help that there is still no mention of anything called 'The Agreement', whatever it is. I'm beginning to wonder if Demetrius just sent me on some wild goose chase."
"Maybe if you get some sleep…" Anya started hopefully, only to elicit a tired chuckle from Damian.
"Yeah, maybe," Damian groaned. "Although I think I am a little bit closer with preparing for the press conference."
"You'll be amazing," Anya said confidently. "I just know you'll smash it."
"Thanks," said Damian tiredly, but he didn't elaborate. "Are you feeling better?"
After thinking about it for only a moment, Anya was surprised to realise that not only had her panic subsided, but that she was actually breathing easier, and had been for the entire duration of the phone call.
"Yeah, actually."
"Good. There's still time to catch some sleep before we have to get up."
"If I go to sleep, then so do you."
"Alright, alright. I'm going," some sounds of shuffling in the background. "Goodnight. I love you."
Anya wiped away the last of her tears.
"I love you too."
After ending the call with Anya, Damian did go to bed, as he promised, but it was still a while before his mind was able to slow down enough to sleep.
He couldn't stop thinking about it.
The Agreement.
Demetrius had given him a clue. Which was… very unlike him, if their previous interactions were anything to go by. After their father's arrest, Damian's first phone call with his older brother swam in his mind, putting Damian through spiral after spiral of over-analysing. He had spoken to Demetrius on the phone a grand total of twice, and both times, Demetrius acted very differently to what Damian knew of him.
On that first call, Demetrius sounded very odd. Stilted, and not entirely natural, while giving the impression that he was not even a little bit interested in what Damian had to say. Possibly even toying with Damian. Meanwhile, the tone of the second call was something that Damian couldn't get out of his head. Demetrius was quiet, and spoke in a rush, only giving him the vaguest instructions and a dark sense of foreboding.
As it turned out, Mr Arnold Handel was not difficult to locate, and Damian's few meetings with him proved very productive from a business standpoint. Although older than Damian anticipated, Mr Handel also seemed serious and efficient, emphasised by his smoothed white hair and mild manner of speaking. Demetrius' direction was correct, because Mr Handel did know the Desmond Group back to front and inside out - and yet, when Damian asked him about Project Apple, a dark look of disappointment crossed his face.
"I was never privy to that side of Lord Desmond's dealings," he admitted quietly. "And I am certainly disheartened to learn of it."
So. Donovan kept his dealings separate after all. Meaning that whatever information Damian hoped to find about Project Apple and the elusive members of the shadow board would likely not be found in the mountain of paperwork he was expected to comb through.
More and more, Damian suspected that if he wanted any more answers about the Project, real answers, he would have to find a way to speak directly to someone who knew it - intimately.
And Damian really did not want to do that.
But he was running out of options, and who knew how much time they both had left…
Eventually, Damian's thoughts slowed down enough for unconsciousness to actually overtake him, and the last thought in his mind before he went to sleep was lost forever.
"You look so cute!"
"Shut up," Damian grumbled. "I look like an old man."
"You look like a cool college student!"
The look of delight and admiration in Anya's eyes told him that she was being genuine, but Damian still couldn't help but blush and look away.
"Agree to disagree."
It wasn't fair. Damian had envisaged going on a date with Anya Forger more times than he could count, but he had never imagined that he would be in half-disguise for it. Stray locks of hair poked out from beneath the edge of his beanie hat, and Damian struggled to hold back from constantly adjusting the glasses, since he was so unused to wearing them. They were the same ones that Loid had made him wear when he collected Damian from the empty apartment, all to fool the paparazzi that surrounded the entrance.
Unbelievable, that the best spy that Westalis had to offer genuinely swore by a hat and glasses.
And the worst thing was that not a single reporter looked his way.
"You would be surprised how often it works," Loid had told him. "People only see what they are looking for."
"And you call yourself the 'Master of Disguise'," Damian groaned in response.
Even the rest of his ensemble was far more casual than Damian was comfortable with. Tan slacks and brown leather loafers made up the bottom half of his outfit, while he had covered up his shirt using a loose grey hoodie, and red corduroy jacket. It was comfortable, yes, and maybe even a bit unassuming, but it was just so not the 'smart' look that Damian felt more himself in.
"The Damian Desmond that the press are on the lookout for is a young man who dresses smart in his spare time," Loid advised seriously as he helped Damian into the jacket. "So, if you go against that assumption, they're more likely to overlook you."
It didn't help that he was right, of course.
Meanwhile, it wasn't like Anya had to hide her identity from the press, and so she looked every bit her usual, adorable self, in a burgundy dress layered with wool tights and ankle boots. She had tucked her cream scarf into her jacket, choosing to forgo a warm hat in favour of gloves.
This time, Damian summoned the words before his courage failed him, and when he and Anya had both climbed out of Loid's car, he made sure to tell her in a whisper.
"You're so pretty."
She linked her arm through his with a radiant smile, before Anya turned around a last time to wave to her parents, who remained in the two front seats.
"Thanks for the ride! See you at home!"
"Have fun!" Yor called out to both of them. "Don't stay out too late!"
Loid drove away, and soon it was Damian and Anya alone. Immediately, Anya tightened her hold on his arm, tugging him forward to the cinema entrance.
"This is so exciting! Our first real date!" She grinned back at him, but her smile soon morphed into an 'o' of surprise as Damian pulled her towards him, and before she could register it fully, he had his arms wrapped tightly around her, with his head buried into the crook of her neck. He had even grabbed onto her coat with his fists, unintentionally pulling her onto her tiptoes, but Anya sensed the desperation in his touch.
She tilted her lips towards his ear. Lowered her voice to a whisper.
"Is there something wrong?"
The entire breadth of Damian's shoulders shifted as he breathed her in, and sagged into her further.
No, not desperation, Anya realised. Relief.
"Not anymore", said Damian, quietly answering her question, but at her quizzical silence, Damian relented. "I just… I feel bad. I've been so busy and I - I should have pushed for more time with you. I should have done something special to make up for it, instead of leaving it all up to you."
"But we get to spend time together now, so what's the problem?" Anya blinked, confused, not that Damian could see her face just yet, but he would have heard the earnestness of her tone. "Besides, you paid for the cinema before, and the art installation, and the ferris wheel, so it's only fair that I take a turn, right?"
It made sense to her completely, but then her skin tingled as a low chuckle vibrated through him.
"Yeah, you're right. I'm overthinking it."
"A little," Anya agreed, and leaned into him even more. "But it's because you care so much, and I love that about you."
They pulled apart, and this time, Damian let Anya lead them both to the snacks counter. Few people made up the queue, which Damian was grateful for, especially because he was still not used to being out and about outside of Eden, when he knew that there were hungry journalists looking for him. He couldn't help but feel a little bit anxious about it, but he followed Anya's lead anyway, smiling at her enthusiasm.
A teenager with patchy facial hair and a logo'd apron greeted them, and Anya quickly made her order of chocolate-covered peanuts (would she ever pick anything different?) and a soft drink, but just as the cashier turned to Damian to take his order, his eyebrows knitted together in vague recognition.
"I feel like I've seen you before. Are you a regular here?"
Sweat pricked at Daman's neck, and he swallowed.
Calm down calm down calm down.
"Nope," Damian mumbled as he tried not to panic. "Just got one of those faces."
Damian threw a large note on the table and swept up the snacks in both hands, moving quickly to the entrance while Anya followed him.
"Hey! I was supposed to pay for the snacks!" she protested
"You got the tickets, so it's only fair," said Damian, but he couldn't turn to face her. He could feel the stare of the cashier on his back, and all he could think was that he probably knew who Damian was, and that he was definitely going to call the press over because Damian fucking Desmond was there -
A slight tug on his sleeve, and Damian slowed down for Anya, his heart beating too fast.
"It's all right," she said quietly. "He hasn't figured out who you are. You're safe."
Damian closed his eyes, steadied his breathing. Or tried to. Pressure built up behind his eyelids, flashing in bursts of white sparks, and his voice trembled.
"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."
Her warm hand caressed his face, just barely brushing the frames of his glasses, and Damian slowly opened his eyes to see her tentatively smiling before him.
"It will be alright," she reassured him. "I'm keeping an eye on things, so you can relax, okay?"
"Okay," he agreed, and forced himself to lower his shoulders and unclench his jaw, before he leaned forward, and rested his chin on the top of her head, the most he could do to hug her without dropping the snacks in his hands. "Thank you."
The theatre itself was sparsely populated, with only a few groups of people dotted here and there throughout the space, and though it was dark, the luminance of the projector was just enough for Anya to find their seats and get settled. They had both managed to remove their coats and open up the snacks, when Anya took a quick cursory scan of the area.
"I can't believe how quiet it is in here! It's so weird. Ewen said that this film would be really popular…"
Damian flinched when she whipped her head round in disbelief. "Did you buy out the theatre, again?!"
Even in the dark, she could see the surprise on his face. "How did you know about that?" he said, before realisation struck him, and he leaned back in his seat with a sigh. "Yeah, I did. Sorry. I know what you're like in crowds."
"I would have been able to handle a crowd this size!" Anya pouted.
"I don't want to take that chance!" he protested, before he leaned back in his seat with a sigh. "Not when I know how bad it could be."
"I wasn't that bad! I was only out for a few hours!" she exclaimed in earnest, although her attempts to reassure Damian had no effect.
"Read my mind if you think it wasn't that bad," he said quietly, picturing how she looked both times. Fainting in the middle of a crowd. With blood pouring from her nose and her ears, pale and death-like in Bill's arms.
Did she really think he would have forgotten about the fire alarm? Or the tournament? Just the images from those would haunt him for the rest of his life…
From Anya's white complexion, he guessed that she did see the images that he had just remembered. A twisted slideshow of her own distress, but of course, she was too affected by the crowds to understand how scared he was, or how serious the situation could have been. She could have lost more blood. She could have needed an actual hospital. She could have been injured in ways that medical scans would never be able to detect.
Damian softened on her, somehow understanding that his thoughts had become too painful for her to read, and he reached up to her face, pushing away a lock of her hair from her eyes so he could look at her properly. At least then she would see how serious he really was.
"I don't want to see you like that ever again, okay?"
Anya gulped. "Okay."
He didn't miss the way that she bit her lower lip afterwards, immediately drawing his eyes downwards, and before he was fully aware of it, Damian leaned down and kissed her. Soft and gentle, kissing away the pain that was there only a moment ago.
"If there were more people here, I wouldn't be able to kiss you like that, either," he smiled.
Her skin flushed warm beneath his palm. "Or you could just kiss me whenever you want."
"Then I would never stop kissing you."
This time, it was Anya that leaned in, pulling on Damian's collar to close the distance between them even further, and planted her lips firmly on his. It took him by surprise, but he quickly relaxed into it, and slid his hand to the back of her head, tangling in her hair.
Oh, he missed this. He missed her. Just being able to be with her was more than enough to keep him sated, because being able to kiss her like that was surely a luxury. He could get by on holding her hand, his thumb brushing hers the way it used to when he wanted her to hear his thoughts. He could survive each day if he only saw her smile, radiant and dazzling, the way that he had been surviving for the last twelve years.
Now, Damian knew just how much he was starving himself of her, because he couldn't just survive anymore. He needed to see the joy and the sparkle in her eyes when she saw him, he needed to feel the warmth of her face so close to his, and the love she poured from her lips into his heart. Without her - without her vivaciousness, and her warmth, and her love, and her presence, and her smile - he honestly couldn't imagine being able to pull himself through each day.
An orchestral rumble through the speakers indicated that the opening sequence of the film had begun, and opened his eyes once again to see her grinning up at him.
"What is it?" he said, suddenly self conscious. Did he have something on his face?
"I just realised something," she began and leaned forward. "You're wearing glasses."
"So?"
"Sooo…." She drew out the 'oh' sound. "I can watch the film, and I could stare at you the whole time."
Damian tried to think of something to say to hide his own embarrassment, and for some reason that he never wanted to know, the best he could come up with was: "Don't hurt yourself. You might sprain your neck."
Perhaps Anya really did sense his embarrassment, because she turned quickly away and diverted her attention to the film playing out.
Damian would have started to watch the film too, if he hadn't caught the enchanting sight in her eye.
Stars.
An entire galaxy of them shone in her irises, and Damian had to catch his breath from the sheer intensity of it. Stars and nebulae from the film reflected itself in her. It was fascinating to watch, especially when the soundtrack picked up in pace and volume, and the excitement illuminated her face completely.
He would have to thank Ewen for the film recommendation.
"Did you see those lasers? And the way that guy used his mind powers to move things?" Anya's eyes lit up. "So cool! And then when the bad guy said he was his father and I was like - whoa! - what a twist! And the finale! That was such an epic battle sequence!"
"Yeah," Damian agreed. "There was so much to keep track of."
"You weren't even watching it!" she scolded him, and gently thumped him on the arm.
"I watched most of it! It's not my fault my girlfriend is so captivating," Damian protested, and as he said the last part, Damian circled his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. "Or would you rather I watch you, instead?"
"That's creepy!" Anya laughed.
"Is it? Or maybe I just can't take my eyes off you."
He grinned at her, and Anya's heart somersaulted in her chest. She still remembered when Damian was in the process of building his confidence around her, when he stammered and blushed and hesitated, and his newfound style of flirting was actually starting to take her by surprise. Only when they were alone did his true colours start to shine in front of her, and Damian actually voiced the sentiments that were in his heart - and for the first time, Damian's heart and mind and actions started to converge.
Only Anya would know how big of a change that was for him. His entire internal state had been so incredibly incongruent for so long, that Anya wondered if what she was witnessing was actually a new side of him entirely. Here was a Damian that was honest, inside and out, and said how he felt, and did the things that he wanted to do, as if that was who he was meant to be the entire time. Maybe he still got anxious, or hesitant, but she couldn't be prouder of him for learning to embrace the freedom that came with loving, and being loved in return.
It was enough to warm her heart, and she gave him her best smile, enjoying the moment when he blushed all the more because of her.
Because Damian had bought the tickets for nearly the rest of the theatre, only a few people walked past them from the showing, and Anya experienced the bliss of being able to be completely herself in public, without the worry of the crowd overwhelming her. The thought almost brought tears to her eyes - because not only did Damian remember, but he genuinely wanted her to be comfortable, too. Even though it was supposed to be her turn to lead the date, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the lengths that Damian would go to for her.
Her hand naturally found his on the way out of the cinema, and she allowed herself to lean on his shoulder, noting that it was so much more comfortable because of the padding of his jacket and clothes beneath it.
Thank you for taking care of me.
He didn't reply straight away, but he brought his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her closer into him, and Anya immediately burrowed herself into the crook of his arm. The scent of him was enough to pull her into a state of drowsiness.
Cinnamon and library books…
They walked on in comfortable silence, letting the amber lamplights slowly guide them home in a world of warm sepia tones. The cinema that Anya had chosen to go to was one of the quieter theatres, on a small side street in the middle of Berlint city centre, sandwiched between a restaurant sparkling with fairy lights, and an artisanal evening cafe. While the inside of the cinema was quiet, thanks to Damian's foresight, the street outside was bustling with people enjoying their Friday night.
They hadn't been completely alone together since the Christmas holidays, and even then there was usually the presence of one or both of her parents in the house, so it was difficult to feel fully themselves. But at that moment, Anya wanted to relish the time she had alone with him, knowing that he was working so hard just to make sure that he could spare some time with her to begin with.
They were halfway down the next street, in the direction of her own house, when a distant presence registered in the back of her mind. Shadowy, and searching. Looking for a target.
Under the guise of shading her eyes from the lamplight, Anya tried to search out of the corner of her eye, and quickly noticed the shadow following them. She only caught a glimpse of him, but it was enough for her to understand the threat.
A camera hung around his neck.
Anya consciously kept the exact same pace, and didn't adjust her posture. If she sped up, or slipped up at all, they would undoubtedly realise that she had caught on to them. They were safe as long as she kept pretending.
Should she warn Damian? She could tell him in his mind, but what if he reacted strongly to it? Or, god forbid, what if he turned to look at the reporter too? Then they would know that she knew, and it would just be a chase on foot from there, and Anya didn't want to test out her running skills on cobblestones. Not when she had Damian to protect, too.
Thankfully, Damian didn't object when Anya carefully steered him through another side street, and then another, until they had reached the edge of Berlint City Park, and after a quick check over her shoulder, she dragged Damian behind the nearest bush.
Damian, get down!
"What the-"
Both of them crouched low, still holding hands, and thankfully Damian quickly reoriented himself to the situation, while Anya listened out for the reporter.
There. He had just turned the corner into their street. She sensed his confusion, irritation…
Damian squeezed her thumb, and immediately she understood his request.
Is he after me or you?
Because they both knew that either option had wildly different implications and outcomes.
A reporter, she answered simply, knowing that would be enough to answer his question, and concentrated her mind on the environment around her.
She could sense Damian's confusion, and could even feel him puzzling out the root cause (perhaps the cashier did recognise him, and called someone), but she had to peel her mind away from his thoughts and his emotions, because she needed to send a message to someone else. Someone that definitely wasn't Damian, because she didn't want him to get more worried than he already was, when this was supposed to be a date to cheer him up, not make him feel worse!
Anya's mind listened and listened, until her ears picked up the sounds of a scuffle. And then, silence.
"He's gone now," said Anya confidently. Out loud, so that Damian could feel more reassured, although he did still regard her with a sceptical look.
"It kinda sounds like he got beaten up and dragged away. Is it really safe to come out?"
He kept his voice to a low whisper, and a twinge of guilt shot through Anya when she realised that Damian was probably more scared than he let on.
She understood his fear, she really did, because she had already lived with it for nearly her entire life, but she had already decided that fear wouldn't rule her life. Not anymore.
"I said I'd keep an eye on things, right?" she squeezed his hand, and then made to stand, helping him up alongside her. "Trust me."
I'm going to keep you safe.
When Damian steadied himself on his feet, he regarded her with a look so full of intensity that it made her catch her breath. He held her gaze with such weight that Anya suddenly got the sense that he wasn't just looking at her, he was seeing her, and when he held her face in his warm hand, her stomach exploded into butterflies.
"You're amazing, Anya."
The corner of his lips turned up in a smile.
"In fact, you're way too cool for me."
"I'm not cool at all," Anya laughed. "I'll have you know I'm widely considered to be the class weirdo."
"Yeah, you are," Damian's breath was warm against hers. "You're fun, and silly, and brilliant, and I love that about you."
Their kiss was brief, but warm, and afterwards Anya let her head hit his chest with a small thump.
"Do you want to go back home? Or…"
Damian hmmed, and it vibrated through his chest, tingling against her face.
"Not yet," he decided eventually. "I think this is a good time for ice cream."
Anya snapped her head up. "Really? You're not put off by that guy?"
"I'll get over it," he sighed. "I'll have to get used to it anyway. Besides, you said you'd keep me safe, right?"
He said the last part with a wink, and heat rose to her face. She couldn't remember the last time that he had made her actually blush, and the experience was… definitely not unpleasant.
"I want to get peanut butter!" she blurted, and Damian couldn't help but laugh.
"Come on, then. Let's go."
"Did you hear that?"
A woman with red eyes turned to the man next to her, his blond hair covered by the same type of balaclava that she wore.
He nodded silently, and pointed in the direction they were to follow. From their position on the roof, it did not take long at all for them to locate the man following Damian and Anya, and they leapt to the ground with catlike grace.
She took him down in an instant, covering his mouth with her entire hand so that no-one could hear him scream, and with her other hand she held both hands behind his back to restrain him.
"I'm terribly sorry about this! We just need one thing and then I promise we won't kill you."
Meanwhile, her partner-in-crime removed the camera from around the struggling man's neck and ripped out the roll of film, a move as precise as a striking serpent. He carefully unravelled the roll, and held the transparent film to the light, revealing the images held inside them.
A young woman, together with the second son of the nation's most hated politician…
He pocketed the film roll, thinking of ways to destroy it, and then turned to the woman, and when his gaze landed on her, he stilled. Then he chuckled.
"Yor, darling, I think you can let go of him now."
Her eyes widened at his use of her real name, but then when she saw what Loid was looking at, she gasped in horror and leapt off of the reporter.
"Oh dear!" She covered her mouth with one hand. The same one she had used to restrain the man. "Did I kill him after all?"
Loid put two fingers on the man's neck, feeling for a pulse. "He is still alive, although I think that you might have cut off his oxygen supply, and he simply fainted."
Yor sighed and looked sheepishly away. "I guess I got carried away…"
Together, they brought the man to another side street, where they laid him down on his side, and Loid poured a kind of foul-smelling liquid onto the man's clothes. To passersby, he would simply look (and smell), like a drunkard who had passed out after a hard Friday night out.
Before anyone else could stumble upon them, Yor and Loid both jumped back onto the roof, separating themselves from the bystanders down below. Even though the streets were busy with people enjoying their Friday night in restaurants and bars and pubs and cinemas, Yor and Loid knew that they would feel more comfortable on the rooftop with just each other, and the stars.
And, most importantly, they could continue to watch for trouble.
"That's the fourth one tonight," Yor remarked quietly, and then gave her husband a worried look. "He even got close enough that Anya sensed him."
He understood her worry. Of course he did, because Loid had lived his entire life under the thumb of fear and caution.
"Anya knows what to do to protect herself," Loid admitted. Hadn't they both been training her, after all? "And Damian's stronger too, thanks to you."
Yor was right to be cautious. He was, too. After all, what if things only got worse from here? What if the day arrived where not even Yor and Loid could take down the threats coming for them all?
"We'll protect them," he murmured.
Yor drew herself closer to him. "Like we always have."
And on that rooftop under the stars, they found each other's lips again, like they had found each other so long ago.
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Suprise! I actually wrote a smidge of TwiYor 😂 And yes, Damian's outfit was definitely an homage to the ch.88 illustration, which I just loved
Thank you Ellis Tobias for the idea that they could see Star Wars! I enjoyed wondering how to write it in 😅
Next chapter Wednesday 28th February (probably)
in which there is More Fluff
And... angst, obviously
I hope you are all well 💖 I know 2 weeks is a long time to wait so I seriously appreciate your patience and your understanding, I swear all I think about is this story and if it could be my full time job to write this and deliver it to you that would be my favourite thing in the world 😭
Big hugs xxx