âWow, you good? you look like youâre about to piss yourself.â
âWhat are you doing in my house?â
The villain wipes their hands on their apron. They turn and find themselves grinning amusedly at the hero, who presses themselves against the wall, eyes darting from Villain to their kitchen knives.
âMaking soup, which I wouldnât have if I knew youâd be so ungrateful. Really, Hero, where are your manners?â
âGet. Out.â
âReally? but my soup is just turning out so nicely, surely you wouldnât mind sharing a meal or two with me.â
They say this, turning back to their pot and waving their pointer and middle finger in a small arc. Hero inhales sharply as the knives float and stab themselves into the ceiling.
âSee? No weapons on me.â
The villain holds up their hands, pantomiming surrender, as a lopsided smile forms on their face. The hero finds themselves frozen. So vulnerable. Civilian clothing, identity out for anyone to see, cornered in their own home. Theyâd have to blind if they didnât see how Villain looked them up and down hungrily, which gives them a strange fluttering feeling.
âYou and I both know you wouldnât need a weapon to hurt me.â
âOh!â Villain holds their chest in mock-offense. âHow you wound me with your assumptions.â
âTell me why youâre here.â Hero says, finally going up to Villain and gripping their wrist. Their eyebrows raise when Villain melts into the touch, eventually hiding their face in Heroâs shoulder. Heroâs breath hitches.
The villainâs usual bravado is gone, and they shake in Heroâs embrace.
What is happening? Hero thinks wildly to themself.
It takes all their willpower not to squeak when Villain nuzzles against their neck. It sends shivers through their body, in a strangely good way.
âVillain-â
âPlease.â Hero has never heard Villain beg before. âPlease, I justâŠI have nowhere else to go.â
Hero only runs their hands through Villainâs hair, shushing them and patting their back.
âItâs-Itâs alright. You can stay.â
Villain clings to them tighter.
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