#extroverts during the pandemic amirite?

[silver-ink-iron-words]

Before the villain kidnapped them, the hero would have told you that they loved their power.

Their friends joked that they literally had the power of friendship. And, in a way, it wasn’t far off. Social interaction charged the hero. It fueled their abilities, but also made them feel strong. Energized. Alive.

Before, their life had been an excess of parties, festivals, and pub nights. They had the uncanny ability to form fast and meaningful friendships with almost anyone they came across. They were at the center of a thriving ecosystem of connection, and loving every second of it.

But now, it had been months since they’d last seen a single living soul other than the villain.

When is [Villain] coming back? they wondered.

They’d stopped being embarrassed by such thoughts a long time ago. The solitude ached in their bones, weighed down their limbs. They were half convinced it was slowly killing them.

They heard the front door open, and perked up.

“[Hero], I’m hoooome,” the villain called.

There was still a part of the hero that burned whenever they heard that voice. It was this part of them that kept them awake late into the night, imagining all the ways they could make the villain suffer.

But now. Now, they sprinted forward and wrapped the villain in a tight, desperate hug.