#had a deeply infuriating conversation earlier and this comment was just one little thing in the middle of that shitshow

[thethingything]

"I know you keep saying you're doing stuff to help your mental health, and I know you try to track your moods and have a routine and stuff but you really need to try harder to not get so stressed about things" bestie when I say I'm trying to help my mental health, yeah I'm doing that stuff, but I'm also:

using DBT techniques to improve my emotional regulation, which takes a lot of energy because I have to focus on taking a step back and doing that while experiencing strong emotions that make that hard

actively unlearning unhealthy coping mechanisms and trying to replace them with healthier reactions to things, which once again requires catching myself doing stuff while experiencing strong emotions that make it harder to think rationally

working through shit like core beliefs to figure out why I act in certain ways and then challenge those beliefs to slowly fix things from the ground up (have you ever dug into core beliefs? it's a great way to end up sobbing for 2 hours straight while half your life suddenly clicks together and makes sense in a way it never had before)

basically improvising exposure therapy for various triggers because I don't have access to actual therapy so I've gotta DIY this shit if I actually want to get better at handling my triggers

having to work through processing years of trauma, abuse, etc, most of which gets brought up randomly and then I have to deal with it whether I'm in a good place to do that or not

and a whole bunch of other exhausting shit I can't remember off the top of my head because I'm brain foggy and have a migraine right now

and I'm having to do all this on top of repeatedly getting so ill I can't keep up with basic chores and experience the kind of symptoms and pain levels people would normally go to the hospital for on a daily basis and just having to try and carry on as normal anyway because I have no other choice, not to mention all the various stressors piling up in the background that I'm having to process and deal with.

"you need to try harder to not get stressed about things" says the person who won't even begin working on their own deeply unhealthy behaviours that negatively effect everyone around them because "that's a lot of work and I don't want to have to do all that"

[goodluckchenle]

your love would be too much

pairing: haechan x gender neutral!reader genre: ANGST vibes: enemies to lovers, trainee!au, tw for body shaming , anxiety attack , yelling , swearing , NO HAPPY ENDING word count: 6k

author’s note: aaaaaaaaa this took so l o n g. i spent forever and a day writing it but i’m kinda proud of it! definitely didn’t proof read the last couple of paragraphs but it’s Fine

you and haechan should've been friends, or at least that’s what everyone else thought. you were the same age, you’d auditioned for sm at the same time, and you were widely regarded as two of the most talented 2000 line trainees. the two of you had a lot in common, but one thing stood out beyond the rest of your shared qualities: you’d both never hated anyone more in your entire life.

if opposites attract then you and haechan were practically the same person. all you did was get on each other’s nerves. you liked to think that you were a mature person, someone who chose to take the high road, but when it came to haechan all bets were off. the two of you were petty in every way imaginable; you took every chance to get under each other’s skin. you would go out of your way to make haechan’s day worse, and he did the same. your relationship wasn’t hard to understand; it was sneers in the hallway and cruel insults under your breath. it was looking him in the eye as you took his favorite sandwich in the cafeteria or him clicking his tongue just because it drove you insane. it was simple, it was immature, and it was petty. and you still did it anyway.

the funny thing was that no one could’ve told you how it started. everyone’d just kinda assumed something went down one day, but the truth was you didn’t really have a reason to hate haechan except that he hated you. if you thought at least a little bit about your relationship you could probably figure out that there was no fair reason for you two to hate each other, you just rubbed each other wrong and neither of you were humble enough to back down. but we don’t talk about that. the point is, lee donghyuck was your least favorite person in the world, and it was always going to be that way.

but no matter how much you hated him, the trainee grind went on. which meant that you could never truly avoid each other. today was your monthly performance evaluation and as fate would have it, you and haechan went one after another. you were first up. you’d prepared for this performance like it was your last, practicing the choreography for weeks and memorizing every run and adlib until you could sing them in your sleep. you had chosen this song even though it was a challenge and you were proud of how far you’d come to be able to pull it off. after you finished you bowed deeply to the trainers and bit back a smile when you saw the awe on your fellow trainee’s faces. but as you returned to your spot in line, you heard haechan scoff under his breath. you raised an eyebrow.

“got something you’d like to say, donghyuck?” you said quietly, emphasising his name. the moment lee sooman had changed his name haechan let it go straight to his head and you refused to feed his ravenous ego. 

“not really,” haechan quipped back. “just that maybe you should try not to do something so...above you. watching you butcher that was painful and the fake smile didn’t help.” you scowled as his name was called and haechan stepped forward, bowing with a charming smile as he introduced himself to the coaches. right before he started his performance he looked you in the eye, and you swore you could feel rage bubbling up within you.

haechan was infuriatingly impressive. he’d picked a song that played to his strengths and his facial expressions were on point, two areas that were still stinging after his comments earlier. you kept a straight face as he performed, imagining all the things you’d say as soon as you walked out of this room. unsurprisingly the other trainees were enthralled with haechan’s performance but when he made his way back his eyes were only on you, one eyebrow cocked in a confident smirk. now it was your turn to scoff.

“you know, that was actually a smart choice,” you muttered so only he could hear. “play it safe and you won’t disappoint anyone. but maybe turn down the facial expressions a smidge? felt like i was watching a third-rate comedy sketch.” you relished the look on his face as he struggled to remain nonchalant. you shrugged and turned towards the trainee about to perform, leaving haechan to stew in the silence between you two. you were sure this wasn’t over, but did you really want it to be? you were almost looking forward to the fight you knew was coming.

the moment you left the room all eyes were on you and haechan. you wouldn’t say that the two of you made your hatred public, but you definitely didn’t try to keep it private. you were sure haechan felt the same way; you both felt fully justified in your distaste for the other and you kinda expected everyone else to take your side. to be honest haechan's friends thought the whole thing was kind of ridiculous and as for you, well you didn't have anyone close enough to care. you were a little annoyed by the audience you'd amassed but you would never let that stop you. however you needn’t worry; the moment you'd cleared the doorway haechan was already on you. "you always have something to say, don't you?" he said, glaring. you couldn't help but chuckle.  

"and you don't?" you shot back. "you literally started this conversation."

“i wouldn’t have, but i just couldn’t bear the thought of you actually thinking whatever you did back there was ‘art’.” more infuriating than his words was his tone, one that dripped with condescension and mockery. unfortunately, you were never one to back down.

“ah yes. because you’re clearly the expert here,” you spat, arms folded.

haechan looked you up and down in a way that made your skin crawl and your blood boil. “between the two of us? that’s not even a question.” you were starting to get pissed.

you scowled, saying, “you really think you’re the shit, don’t you?”

“no,” he admitted with a cocky grin, “i know i am.” it was taking everything within you not to strangle him at this point.

“you know what’s funny about you? no matter what you do, you always end up thinking you’re the best.”

“are you saying i’m not?”

            “you’re a lot of things, donghyuck, but you’re sure as hell not perfect.”

“what am i then?”

            maybe you weren’t thinking very clearly anymore.

“well the first word that comes to mind is stupid, but clueless and obnoxious work pretty well too. try-hard’s a little informal but it fits the bill, and- oh, duh! you’re replaceable.”

you’d never seen haechan look more serious than when that word came out of your mouth. the shift in mood was immediate. “excuse me?”

            you raised an eyebrow, a little shocked that he didn’t have more to say. “you heard me.”

haechan’s voice was calm, but something about it seemed deadly. the onlookers watched with bated breath as they anticipated haechan’s response. “no, please, elaborate. i want to hear more. how am i replaceable?”

there was a pit forming in your stomach but you didn’t stop. “there’s nothing special about you. you’re not unique, you’re not remarkable, you’re not even bad enough to leave an impression. you’re completely average. and therefore, you’re replaceable.”

haechan barked out a dry laugh, hollow and numb and absolutely terrifying. suddenly he walked forward, brushing past as he muttered, "that's rich, coming from you." his friends rushed after him, the youngest ones looking at you with wide eyes before darting after them. you shrugged, trying to bury the panic growing within you. how did you get here? if anyone had looked closely, they’d see that your hands wouldn't stop shaking.

you went about the rest of your day, pushing your latest episode with haechan to the corner of your mind. you went over the notes you got earlier, practiced for a few hours and headed back to your dorm early, something you rarely allowed yourself. you cleaned your room, ate a sparse dinner, and studied for your exams, but even though you were highly productive something still felt wrong. you did everything you knew to do, but you couldn’t shake the restless feeling in your stomach. did it have something to do with you and haechan today? absolutely. but what good was dwelling on it? then you’d have to address the complex and slightly concerning nature of your relationship. and we don’t want to do that.

it’s well past midnight and you’ve accepted that sleep is out of the question. you decide to start your day early, maybe get a jump on your next assessment. so that’s why you walk out of your dorm at quarter to three in the morning, fully dressed and prepared to dance like your life depended on it. you wander down the corridors of practice rooms, but just as you find an empty one (you clearly weren’t the only one who couldn’t sleep tonight,) you hear a familiar voice. is that,,,donghyuck? your rational brain would’ve said to mind your own business. unfortunately, your rational brain was probably the only part of you asleep right now.

you walked into haechan’s practice room, waiting for him to notice you. from what you could tell he’d been singing (which begs the question, why is he in the dance hall?) and taking notes. he was hunched over on the floor, legs crossed and scribbling away on a notebook page. you cleared your throat and he sat up, annoyed by the interruption and now you. “late night, hyuckie?” you ask, feigning concern.

“leave me alone,” haechan muttered, returning to his work.

you stepped further into the room. “you sure? you don’t look too good.” and as much as you were mocking him it was true. his hair was a mess and under the light his cheeks seemed hollow, his skin mottled.

“i said,” haechan asserted, a growl in his voice, “leave me alone.”

“jeez, touchy much?” you quipped. your tone was playful and there was a gleam in your eye, one that said to haechan that he was nothing more than a toy. he didn’t feel like playing.

haechan stood up and walked towards you, so that you were standing maybe 3 feet away from each other. his voice was quiet, and you finally realized that maybe this wasn’t a good idea. “do you not know when to stop, y/n? get out. now.”

you don’t know why you kept going. everything in your body was screaming at you to go, to leave, to shut your damn mouth for once in your life. maybe you were tired. maybe you wanted to see how far you could push him. maybe you’re an idiot. whatever it was, there was no excuse for what you said next. and once you said it, you couldn’t take it back.

“make me.”

and all hell broke loose.

“what the hell is wrong with you?!” haechan shouted, voice breaking. “what did i do to deserve this? is this some sort of game to you? you win, y/n! you broke me!” you stood there, frozen. you watched your worst enemy shatter in front of you, watched as tears fell down his face. one by one they came as you stood in shock, until they poured like rain. did you do this? choked-back sobs fell from haechan’s lips, chest heaving with the weight of them. was this really happening? “you broke me,” he whispered. you could’ve sworn you heard him shaking. “just leave me alone. please.” you stayed paralyzed only a few moments longer, then turned around and walked out the door, down the hallway and back to your bed. it was safe to say your early start was over.

if sleep wasn't out of the question before it certainly was now. all the thoughts you'd been avoiding flew to the forefront of your mind and you could practically see them swirling in front of your eyes. obviously haechan was upset, and it was because of you. but how? you didn't think you'd said anything out of the ordinary; the two of you were always coming at each other. your conversations ran on repeat in your mind as the discomfort you'd suppressed all day rose to the surface. haechan insulted you first, so you were good right? and yeah, maybe you’d been a little harsh, but he deserved it, or at least that’s what you tried to tell yourself. but something else was nagging at you too. why did you care? haechan was a nuisance; you hated his guts. he was always treating you trash. so why did his tears prompt those of your own? you didn’t care about haechan, not in the least. you couldn’t. you were enemies, and that was how it was supposed to be.

the next day was odd to say the least. you couldn’t help but look at haechan just a little bit differently, and you figured he knew, because he seemed like he was trying to compensate for your behavior with his own. if he was petty before, he was downright cruel now, but for some reason you didn’t have it in you to come at him. every time he scowled at you all you saw were the tears streaming down his face, the whispers that’d fallen past his lips and lodged themselves in your conscience. when haechan took your food you’d simply get something else, when he brushed past you with a little too much force you stepped to the side and kept going. you were sure people picked up on it, but as usual you took little notice. even haechan’s friends had noticed the difference and though you rarely spoke to them, you noticed their lingering glances whenever you encountered each other. you could’ve figured that they too were wondering what had changed between the two of you (something they’d tried to pull out of haechan before) but the chances of them figuring it out were slim to none. secrecy was yet another of you and haechan’s shared qualities.

but there’s only so long you can go without falling back into old habits. after all, donghyuck still is your greatest enemy. you’re walking down the hallway and you turn a corner to see none other but haechan and his crew heading your direction. their excited chatter grinds to a halt as haechan turns to sneer at you, expecting a quip or a snarky face in return. the only thing you give him is a look of poorly disguised pity, and that’s what does it. haechan’s scowl deepens as he grabs you wrist and pulls you back the way you came, around the corner and away from his friends. “what the- get off me!” you hiss, yanking your arm away from him. “what’s wrong with you???”

haechan completely ignores you. “you need to stop,” he snaps, and the fire in his eyes ignites your own.

“the hell d’you mean ‘stop’?” you snap back, angered and a little bit confused. was this because of that night? you were being nice to him. was it just because you felt guilty for making him have a breakdown? sure. but it was still something. he could be a little grateful at least.

“whatever this is,” haechan gestured between the two of you violently, “needs to go back to the way it was” he was far too close to you and you took a step back, a scowl settling over your features and matching with his. you don’t- you can’t- think about what he means by that. but you can be angry.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know i was taking orders from you,” you spat. “but next time i’ll be sure to. God forbid i’m actually kind to someone for once.”

hyuck took a step towards you, and now you were even closer than before. “i don’t want your pity. i want you to stop. understand?” you hate how intimidated you feel right now.

you looked haechan in the eye with a face of pure contempt before stepping around him and walking down the hall, making brief eye contact with his posse and quickly making your way past them. unbeknownst to you, hyuck deflates as he leans against the wall, eyes closed and breathing out a sigh of relief, that is until you pass and his friends rush to his side.

“yah, what was that?” a pastel-haired boy said, eyes wide with an incredulous grin. all of a sudden haechan noticed the floor was real interesting.

“it was nothing,” he replied, trying to remain nonchalant. “i just had to say something.”

another one nodded, his eye smile betraying his mock seriousness. “you just had to tell y/n something?” the boy raised an eyebrow, his implication crystal clear. the two youngest friends looked at each other, surprised that jeno had said what they’d both been thinking.

haechan scoffed but still refused to make eye contact. “shut up. you know that’s not what i meant.”

the last one chimed in. “what do you mean then? that you don’t have any feelings for them? at all?” renjun looked doubtful, which only frustrated hyuck even more.

“no, i don’t,” he asserted, “do i look like i like them?”

from the way the rest of his friends looked at him, the answer was probably yes.

“all i’m saying,” jaemin insisted, “is that you can’t hate someone that much without caring about them, at least a little bit.” the others nodded in agreement.

haechan finally looked up, and jaemin took a step back, hands in the air. “i hate y/n. i wouldn’t go out with them if they were the last person on earth. they mean nothing to me. okay?” with that he began to walk to their intended destination, and the boys went to follow him. the others made eye-contact, a look that said they didn’t totally buy it but it wasn’t worth fighting now. they’ve got better things to do than play matchmaker.

so now things are back to how they used to be, and you’re okay with that. in fact, you’re glad about it. your last encounter with haechan renewed your distaste for him, and now more than ever you felt justified in your hatred. he had some nerve to come at you like that when you were trying to be nice to him. thinking about it made your face heat up and your fists clench and somewhere deep down maybe it hurt your heart a little more than you’d like to admit, but there’s no reason to address that. now you didn’t have to worry about that night anymore, or how it made you feel. all that mattered was making haechan feel worse.

monthly evaluations roll around once again and maybe you weren’t on your a-game. maybe you got settled a little. maybe you were spending more time in your head than the studio, and maybe it showed. you tried, you really did, but when you got in front of those coaches you knew it wasn’t gonna be a good day. the actual performance was foggy, but what came after was clear as day. the coaches ripped into you, critiquing your technique, style, even your appearance all in front of the other trainees.

“did you even practice at all?”

“i expected more from you,”

“is this the l/n y/n i’ve been hearing about, or should i be looking for someone else?”

“fixing your face is easy, but when everything needs work? do you think you’ll ever debut like this?”

“you’re a disappointment to this company,”

every word felt like a jab to your stomach, but if you had anything it was a high pain tolerance. you did your best to disguise your hurt, and most of the people in the room didn’t notice. you bowed and apologized after the cutting remarks ended, and walked back to your favorite spot on the wall. you blinked rapidly, refusing to tear up, or at least not in public. you knew how to regulate, deep breaths and muscle control, and everyone brushed it off as you relaxing from your performance. 

that is, everyone except haechan.

as much as he hated to admit it, haechan knew you. when you were happy he knew wrinkles on your nose, when you were angry he knew the flush on your cheeks. when you were triumphant he knew the look in your eyes and when you were hurt? he knew that one best of all. haechan wouldn’t call himself a sadist, but he’d be lying if he never got a sort of sick satisfaction every time he got under your skin. that’s what enemies are for, right? but this, this was different. at first he watched with a cocky grin, excited to have something to rib you about later, but when the comments kept coming it started being a lot less funny. when your face began to harden his face fell because he knew how much you were hurting. and even worse, he wanted to make it go away. every word hit him as they did you, and that’s when he realized.

holy shit. i caught feelings.

of course haechan’s performance went off without a hitch, which was somehow worse to him than doing as poorly as you did. he barely registered the comments he received and he had to pin his eyes to the wall in order to keep them from darting over to you. he pushed through the motions until his time in the spotlight was over, and when he returned to his spot in line he too was tense, struggling not to let his concern show. while you and haechan were both passionate people, one of you was far better at hiding it. it clearly wasn’t lee donghyuck. 

you were out the door almost immediately after you were dismissed, and haechan almost went after you. but before he even had the chance to move he remembered the last thing he said to you, the way he made it clear how much he hated you, and he froze. everything in him wanted to chase you down, ask if you were okay, say he was an idiot and he was sorry for every time he tried to make your life hell because he never knew how much you mattered until you meant everything to him. but he couldn’t. he told himself there were a million reasons but in reality there was only one: he was scared, terrified of upsetting whatever the two of you had. so he spent the rest of his day avoiding you. it wasn’t hugely noticeable but to him it was glaringly obvious. were you that ingrained in his life? or was it that you were just always on his mind? apparently jaemin was right. you can’t hate someone without loving them, at least a little bit.

haechan wasn’t usually an early riser, but for some reason (read: you), he couldn’t get a good night’s sleep. so at four a.m. he found himself wandering the halls of sm entertainment. he'd figured the building would be empty, and for the most part he was right; only one room was taken. his growing curiosity led him to the door, but the sight before him replaced it with dread. it was you. and you looked bad.

the irony wasn't lost on him as he opened the door, and the memory of his night in the studio only filled him with concern. he didn't want to break you the way you broke him, but at this point he couldn't even be sure if you already had. you were dancing, or at least trying to, running your monthly performance over and over again. you would stumble practically every other move and you looked absolutely exhausted. you'd stop for a moment, leaning against a wall with your eyes closed and chest heaving, then force yourself up and start all over again. it was a sickening cycle of abuse, and it didn’t look like you’d stop it if you could.

he didn’t mean to startle you. you were so out of it you didn’t even notice haechan until he was looking you in the eye. you tried to turn away from him but your balance betrayed you, landing you on the floor. a rough growl of frustration what all you could muster as you tried to get donghyuck away from you. it wasn’t clear whether he didn’t hear you, or chose not to listen.

haechan slowly suck to your level, crouched on his knees. “y/n, y/n are you alright? can you hear me?” he asked quietly.

“of course i can hear you,” you slurred, “now leave me alone.”

“i can’t do that,” he replied, “you can’t even stand by yourself. you need to rest.”

you scoffed, but even that seemed weak. “why should i listen to you? you’re tricking me, hyuck. you want me to fail.”

it hurt because you were right. up until today, that was something haechan would have thought. he would have pounced at the chance to set you up for failure. how could he prove to you that he didn’t feel that way anymore? “please y/n. you’re not thinking straight-”

“stop!” you cried, voice trembling. “i-i need to keep working. i’m not good enough. not yet,” your breathing sped up, your body seized with each gasp. “they-they said i wasn’t good enough-i have to be good enough,”

haechan knew that feeling. he’d felt it a million times. the one that sat in the pit of your stomach, the one that chanted over and over again every harsh word said against you. after all,  you were the one who’d given it to him that night. he could have laughed at the irony if he wasn’t so close to tears. hyuck clutched your shoulders, voice shaking with urgency as he said “y/n, i need you to listen to me. you’re not okay. we need to leave. we can come back after you’ve slept,” (he had no such intentions.) “okay? just come with me for now. can you do that for me?” he attempted to pull you to your feet. key word: attempted.

you writhed your way out of his arms, landing violently and curling into yourself on impact. “no!” you shouted. you began rocking back and forth on the ground, muttering to yourself over and over again, “i have to be good enough, i have to be good enough, i have to be good enough,” your chest heaved with broken sobs, a sound almost as heart wrenching as the sight. if haechan’s heart was already broken, the damage was irreparable now. hyuck dropped to his knees in front of you, tears welling up in his own eyes and threatening to spill. you were beyond reason. panicking, he did the only thing he could think to do. he held you.

he pulled your shaking form towards him, flinching at the cold of your skin. rocking with you he clutched you tighter, as if by surrounding your body with his he could shield you from all the horrors in the world. he took deep breaths and tried to steady you, a slow process that only proved effective after several minutes. you felt him gather you into his arms, felt every one of his inhales and exhales, and though you weren’t in a place to speak- to think clearly, really- a thought pushed past the fog in your mind and out through your lips.

“i thought you wanted to go back to the way it was,” you whispered.

“i did,” he whispered back.

and neither of you knew what to say.

if you thought things changed after hyuck’s episode, you had no idea what was coming after yours. it started with conversations, cautious approaches on haechan’s part to get you to crack a smile. then it was surprises. he’d come up to you with food you liked or something that “just reminded him of you.” he started sitting with you during meals, ditching his usual friends for your company instead. he said hi in the hallway, he popped in when he knew you were practicing, he told jokes and played nice and did all the kinds of things that friends do. and as odd as that was, it wasn’t the oddest of it all. the weirdest thing was that you didn’t stop him.

you wanted to, God did you want to, but for some reason you just never told him. part of you appreciated it, craved it really, it wasn’t often you got this much attention. a smaller part of you wanted it more because it was donghyuck who gave it to you, because even when you fought with him you always had something. an even smaller part tried to hide what you really felt, and the smallest part said maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want hyuck to be your enemy anymore. but all of that was drowned out by the discomfort that consumed you every time he got close to you. it wasn’t the actions, though that did feel...odd, it was more like...it was more like you didn’t know what it meant. well, you did, but you weren’t ready for that yet. this isn’t how you two were. it was different. you didn’t like different.

and on top of that there was the attention. haechan figured it was bound to happen. the two of you clearly had a dynamic relationship and among trainees you both were some of the best; there’s no wonder word had gotten around. hyuck continued to deny his feelings for you but by now his friends had figured out at least part of the story, and they teased him almost constantly for it. no one asked you about it, the main reason being that they’re kinda sorta maybe definitely terrified of you, and that was probably the only reason you made it as long as you did. but still, you didn’t try to stop him. or at least you never planned to.

you were eating lunch one day, almost relaxed in the solace you so much cherished; in between classes and practices you hardly had time to think anymore. per usual you refused to think of one thing, (we all know what it is at this point) which would have been fine if that thing wasn't heading this way. you didn't look at haechan coming even though you knew he was; you were tired and glowingly stressed by his actions. plus, you figured, it wasn't like you could stop him. he made his way over and hopped on top of your table, grinning. hyuck ruffled your hair, chuckled and asked, "you miss me?" you ducked downwards, not really up to dealing with haechan's antics, and tried to continue to eat. he huffed (and pouted if you had to guess,) as he continued the conversation with himself, saying, "I guess not," he slipped off the table and sat next to you, still painfully cheerful, and continued to talk to himself, filling your once comfortable silence with somewhat unnerving chatter. you zoned out and apparently your discomfort became more and more obvious because it wasn't long before donghyuck asked you, "hey y/n, are you listening?"

you didn't know why you were getting so upset, and you didn't like it either. you weren't sure if you could do this anymore. you shook your head, trying to stay calm, and haechan leaned towards you, clearly concerned. "are you okay?"

"why are you doing this?" you asked him, your voice shaking just a little bit. you hadn't looked up yet, but your food also seemed last appetizing by the second.

"what do you mean?" he replied, oblivious.

"why are you doing this?" you repeat, gesturing between you two. "is this some kind of joke? or a dare?" internally you begged for his answer to be yes. at least then you wouldn't have to deal with what you knew it was.

hyuck's face scrunched up in confusion, before sinking into realization. "what? no! am i not allowed to care about you?"

you raised your head, finally making eye contact. frustration bubbled up inside you. why did he have to make this so difficult? "no, haechan, you're not."

"y/n, are you alright?" his voice was infuriatingly kind. it almost made you feel bad, well actually it did, but you were too upset for that to stop you.

"why does it matter?" your anger mounted with every word. “we’re not friends. we don’t get along, we never have.” you were getting tense. this was escalating. haechan was getting nervous.

“i know, and i’m sorry, but i’m trying to change that-” haechan’s voice was rising, even though he didn’t mean it to. you could hear- feel even- the sincerity in his voice.

your voice was rising too. you knew people would hear you. you could sense the whispers about to come. you couldn’t stop now. “why, haechan? so you can feel better about yourself? you think this can erase everything else?” you were angry, so angry, so desperate for  his pain. but this wasn’t like before. this wasn’t petty. this was terrifying. and maybe if you were scary enough, mean enough, strong enough, you could make it go away.

he tried to get a word out, but you wouldn’t let him. you were yelling now, saying, “this doesn’t work! whatever this is, whatever we wish this was, could never happen!”

he backed away, standing up as he tried to reply, “why can’t we? y/n, i lik-”

“we can’t do this!” you shouted, “look around, donghyuck! don’t you see where we are? who we are? we’re trainees, and even if we weren’t this wouldn’t work!”

“y/n, listen to me! you know how i feel about you!” haechan yelled, finally cutting you off and catching you off guard. his tone lowered, and you could see the emotion welling up inside him. “and i’d like to think that you care about me at least half as much as i care about you.”

you couldn’t say he was wrong.

“i get that it’s scary, i get that it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but i want this. i want you. isn’t it worth trying? even if it hurts?” there were tears in his eyes. there were tears in yours.

you were quiet now, barely above a whisper. “we can’t do this haechan. i can’t do this.”

and neither of you knew what to say.

so now you and haechan don’t talk. you don’t make eye contact in the hallways, you don’t stand next to each other during evaluations. you don’t take each other’s favorite food or click your tongues or make cruel jokes. you don’t even think about each other. or at least you try not to.

people don’t talk about you either. they used to; right after it happened everyone had something to say. they all had questions, comments, concerns, but they also had the decency not to ask while both of you had tears streaming down your face. you never explained what happened. haechan never did either, not even to his friends, the ones he eventually debuted with. 

secrecy was one of your many shared qualities.

but it's not like you died or anything. you went on with life, went on with the trainee grind until you left, switching companies to make your debut in a smaller company years after you’ve seen donghyuck’s face plastered on every tv screen.

and part of you wondered, what if you’d tried? what if you waited, what if you didn’t fight him that day and let things go until haechan either got over you or confessed to you himself? would you still be together? would it have worked? would it have hurt as much as that last fight? would you have gone back to the way it used to be? you tried not to ask those questions, after all you made the right choice. you got your dream. to get that and have haechan? that would be too much.

[bazzaya]

a demon’s plight - part six

A multichapter series regarding Minerva’s redemption/healing Post-Tartaros.

A/N: Sorry for the delay! Was distracted with other projects. We’re close to reaching the end here. I’d give an estimate of part eight being the last. Enjoy lots of Minerva backstory here though.

Word Count: ~3.6k

[Ao3 Link/FFNet Link]

Part Five

Enjoy!

The shower was a welcome distraction from everything that was going on. The warm water against her skin, her real skin, was a pleasant change. Minerva hadn't seen her real skin in the longest time, and while she did wash the scales on her body before, there was always an itch, a pestering feeling of being filthy with that form. She no longer felt that way, now that her actual skin was visible to wash. Such a scenario started to make Minerva appreciate the body she was born with a lot more; she might have boasted about it before, but knowing she could have nearly lost it and had it ruined forever made her cherish it deeply.

As soon as she stepped outside of the shower once she was finished, Minerva again was reminded of something she cherished: her magic. Normally she could have simply used her magic to dry off in an instant and dress herself, but with those blockers on her wrists… Minerva realized how dependent on her magic she truly was. It frustrated her at first, but she soon came to remember just why she had them on her in the first place. It was tough, but she would manage somehow. She simply had to do everything the long way.

Minerva stepped out of the bathroom, her hair freshly combed and a towel wrapped around her body. She was holding where she tucked in the towel around herself just to be safe, and very shortly after Minerva stepped out, she noticed Erza's reaction.

Erza had glanced over when the door opened, but she almost immediately averted her gaze and cleared her throat, trying to give Minerva her privacy. Minerva only raised her eyebrow in response.

"What?" Minerva asked, confused, "Did I do something wrong?"

"N-No!" Erza hurried to amend, gaze occasionally flickering over towards Minerva but always flitting away afterwards, "I just didn't want to be rude and stare before you got dressed."

Minerva playfully rolled her eyes and shook her head, "After last night you should know that I don't mind the attention."

Erza huffed in response and crossed her arms, "I'm trying to show you some respect here!"

"And I'm saying that we're close enough now that you don't have to worry about such a trite little thing." Minerva tilted her head, a ghost of a smirk on her lips when she realized she could get Erza cornered, "Or are we actually not that close after all?"

Minerva had a point, Erza had to admit. She hated how Minerva was saying it and she hated the situation, but Minerva got her right where she wanted her. "...We're close. Excuse me for not worshipping your body with my eyes."

Minerva laughed at that. She could appreciate that sort of bite from Erza. It made things much more interesting when she fought back. "You're forgiven." She teased, though eventually her demeanor mellowed out and she let out a sigh, "I normally don't have to step out undressed like this, anyways. I can dress and dry myself within seconds because of my magic. You can see how this was a fairly unique situation since…" Minerva raised her wrist and torqued it a few times, drawing attention to the blocker around it.

Erza frowned as her brow creased, "Yeah, I get it now." She turned back to Minerva and stood up, walking closer, "You know… if you wanted to, I could take those off of you so you can use your magic again. You're controlling yourself a lot better now. I see no need for them to be on any longer."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Minerva closed her eyes and shook her head, "Erza… I appreciate it, but that's not the smart thing to do here. We've had one day where the markings haven't come back. I don't know how long it will stay like that. If you take them off of me, I… I don't know if I'd let you put them back on."

"Mm…" Erza hummed, nodding her head and letting her gaze fall to the ground, "Right. Even so, you're really changing, Minerva. For you to be that careful and to hold yourself accountable… it's momentous. You may not have your magic, but… you should still feel some pride in knowing that you're really turning yourself around."

Minerva's lips turned upwards briefly in response, "Heh, if you say so, Erza. Though, can we hold off on the sentimental conversation until after I'm dressed? I feel like that would do the both of us some favors."

"Eh?" Erza tilted her head until realization suddenly settled in and she spun around, face completely turning red, "Haha, yup! Don't mind me! Just uh… do whatever you have to do! I'll wait! Hah!"

Minerva couldn't help but roll her eyes, "Heh. Loser." She teased, turning around and heading into another room.

"Hey!" Erza countered with a puff of her cheeks. She soon shook her head with a sigh and calmed herself down, moving towards the bed in the room she was in. She sat down and crossed her legs, making herself situated in the meantime as she waited for Minerva. Within a few moments, Minerva stepped out in a short black nightgown, running a hand through her hair to push it out of her face.

When Erza looked over upon hearing the door open, her eyes widened slightly at the sight of seeing Minerva in that nightgown, and she bit on the inside of her cheek to try and keep herself together. She swallowed harshly, looking Minerva over. "Is the slit up the side really necessary?"

"Sometimes it is." Minerva's lips curled into a sly grin as she sat down next to Erza on the bed.

Erza only rolled her eyes and groaned from disgust. Minerva couldn't help but laugh in response. Soon Erza ended up smiling though, and she shook her head to take her mind off that subject, "You know, there was something I wanted to ask you."

"And here I thought it was my turn to ask the invasive questions…"

"It isn't invasive, shush." Erza scrunched her nose, "And you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"Go on.." Minerva hummed, closing her eyes and stretching.

"I've never been able to understand how your magic works." Erza said, tilting her head, "Just what is your magic?"

Minerva opened an eye and raised an eyebrow at that question; truth be told, she was expecting something far more personal based on her comments earlier. Perking up, Minerva glanced down at her hands, flexing her fingers as if she were using her magic. "Territory Magic is… difficult to explain."

"I have time."

Minerva shrugged, "Then I can explain. Territory is what I call it, but a direct translation of the name is Absolute Dominion. It's a type of spatial magic that lets me have complete control over the space around me."

Erza leaned forward, resting her chin on her fists, "I've never seen a magic like it before."

"You… probably wouldn't have. Unlike every other sort of magic, this is one that cannot be taught. You have to be born with it." Minerva explained, "It's not like Slayer Magic or Maker Magic, where you can learn it from a teacher or a book. Not only do you have to be born with it, but you must be pure of blood too."

"Pure of blood?" Erza repeated with a tilt of her head.

Minerva nodded, turning her head further away, "Only those pure of blood from the Yakuma clan can wield the magic."

"But… I thought the clan went extinct?"

"Mostly it has, but there were a few survivors who kept the bloodline alive for generations around the country… Jiemma was born to one of these surviving villages, but the numbers have long since dwindled, and he left his clan in search of a female pureblood. That's when he found Kore, and forced her to marry him, and forced her to have a child." Having prodded her fingertips together for awhile, Minerva jolted from failing to restrain the bitter feelings as she spoke, causing her to scratch herself. Her jaw was wired shut tightly, and she refused to meet Erza's gaze.

Erza's expression only softened at the sight, frowning and reaching forward to place her hand over one of Minerva's. "You don't have to share the whole story."

Letting out a sigh to try and level herself, Minerva slowly glanced up at Erza, only able to hold her gaze for a second until breaking away. "Perhaps not, but… as infuriated as the memories make me feel… it is nice to get it off my chest."

Erza squeezed Minerva's hand slightly. "Don't push yourself."

"Well, that was mostly the end of the infuriating parts, anyways. I can't tell you how thrilled he was to have a child born with a magic thought to have been used by the clan's gods." Minerva ran a hand through her hair, trying to seem unbothered with a casual sigh, "He landed his perfect little soldier to bend to his every whim, and… well, you know what happens after that."

"Mm…" Erza hummed sadly, gaze flittering elsewhere. There was a moment of tense, heavy silence that was only broken when Erza spoke up again, asking, "Do you hate your magic?"

Minerva looked up at Erza, brow creased, "What a strange question…"

"Given the circumstances that had to happen in order for you to even have your magic, I mean... Did that lead to any resentment for it at all?" Erza clarified.

Silence fell over the two of them again, this time because Minerva took awhile to think over her answer. She opened her mouth a few times to speak but ultimately decided against it, until she looked back at Erza looking moderately resolute in the conclusion she came across. "No… I don't. I couldn't hate my magic. It's a blessing, and a source of pride…" She fell silent and let out a breath, clenching one of her fists, "I need you to answer something for me."

Erza raised an eyebrow, "What is it?"

"Is it possible to hate with every fiber of being who you were born to… yet take pride in your heritage?" Minerva asked, genuine confusion on her expression, "I'm proud of who the Yakuma were as a people and a culture, but I absolutely despise how it was Jiemma's blood that made this possible…"

Erza nodded and let her gaze fall to the bed between them. She wanted to word things carefully in response, yet not disappoint Minerva too much with it. "I… I can't answer that for you, Minerva. You have to decide for yourself how you view your heritage." She paused, "...Although, it is of my personal opinion that you should take everything into account here, and how you saying you're proud of your heritage may sound to others who have known Jiemma."

Minerva twisted her lips and nodded slowly, "...Right. I'll think on it more later."

"Ultimately, it's your decision to make how you view it. I can't decide it for you. I think you've come far enough to know what's best here." Erza said to try and clear things up. She didn't want to preach to Minerva when it wasn't her place to do so. She just had to guide Minerva to an answer, whichever answer she pleased.

Minerva eventually just let out a defeated sigh and laid down on the bed, resting her hands on her stomach. "I'm exhausted.."

"It hasn't been an easy couple days. I can't blame you." Erza drew her knees to her chest, turning her head to better look at Minerva where she lied down.

"How about you?" Minerva quirked an eyebrow, "How are you holding up?"

Erza's eyebrows raised from surprise at Minerva's concern, though her expression schooled itself soon enough, "I'm doing just fine."

"You sure?" Minerva asked, looking Erza over for a moment.

"Er, yeah…" Erza sounded confused, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you know… The whole thing with Fairy Tail." Minerva continued, words coming out slowly; concern for others was new to her after all, and she was carefully trying to figure out how to approach the subject. "It's been a few days. I want to make sure you're… you know, alright."

Erza frowned and averted her gaze, "I'm managing. It's still difficult to come to terms with. There's a lot I have to work through that I haven't dealt with yet. I'll handle it once I can resolve everything with you. I'm focusing on your situation first."

"I don't want to be your distraction."

Shaking her head, Erza found it in herself to gaze back at Minerva, "You're not a distraction. What I mean by saying that I'm focusing on you first is that I made a promise to my friend to see that she gets better. I'm nothing if not a woman of my word, Minerva. I made this promise. I won't let anything stop me from seeing it through to the end. I want to be here for you, and I made that decision before I got the news. I'm not just staying to keep my mind off things. I'm staying because I want to help you."

Minerva closed her eyes and turned her head away. She was silent for quite some time, as if she were lost within her own mind. Her response came out quiet, and she seemed hesitant in even speaking it, "...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to press you like that. You have to understand, that sort of concern and worry over my well-being… it's foreign to me. It's hard to wrap my head around how someone could do that so unconditionally."

Erza's expression softened out of sympathy, and she reached out to place her hand on Minerva's arm. After a second, Erza even tried to flash a smile, "I'm sorry to hear how new this whole concept of support is to you, but… you're going to have to learn how to live with it. I'm afraid you won't be shaking off my caring self anytime soon. You're stuck with me now."

Slowly but surely the corners of Minerva's mouth curved upwards into a smile, and Minerva rested her hand over Erza's, "There's worse people in the world to be stuck with."

Erza's own smile widened at that, but before she could say anything further, she was cut off by Minerva yanking her downwards. Erza fell face-first onto the bed, face obscured by the pillow she fell into.

"I said I was exhausted. No more sentimental talks or I'm kicking you out." Minerva teased, satisfied with herself for that.

When Erza rolled over so that she was no longer eating the pillow, there was still a smile on her face and she laughed under her breath. She laid on her side to face Minerva, an arm under her head to support it. "Got it. I'll shut up now."

"I never said you had to shut up." Minerva clarified, "I just said no more sentimental talks."

"Does that mean more gossip?" Erza asked, a twinkle in her eye.

"If you want, though we both know it's my turn to ask the questions. You've pried nearly everything out of me." There was a playful tone to Minerva's voice as she spoke the last part.

Erza scrunched her nose at that, "Hey… It's not my fault you're so interesting…"

"And you're certainly interested." Minerva said with a laugh.

Letting out a stubborn huff, Erza shook her head to compose herself and move on with the conversation, "What else could you possibly ask me? There's nothing very intriguing about my life."

Minerva rolled onto her side to face Erza, a devious look on her face, "I'll find something, I'm sure…"

"That's terrifying."

"Shush." Minerva rolled her eyes, "I know you've talked of the one guy who things will never work out with… but I want to know, that can't possibly be it in your life, right? There has to be someone else…"

Erza pursed her lips in thought, trying to think things over. She couldn't think of a face or a name to someone she liked in that way. Soon she only shook her head as her response, "I can't think of anyone, honestly."

"Really? Huh." Minerva sounded wholly surprised, "There has to be someone who you've thought about once or twice, right?"

Erza still shook her head, "Maybe I just surround myself with people not up to my romantic tastes."

"Forget about romance. This is hard to believe. Not even a friend you've just messed around with?"

"Nope. I told you, Minerva, I've done nothing interesting." Erza explained, "I've never even kissed someone."

Minerva let out a hum in response, gaze drifting down to Erza's for a moment before returning to Erza's eyes, "That's surprising. Unfortunate, even."

"Are you just going to rub it in?"

"I didn't mean to." Minerva shrugged, "Do you know what kind of person you'd be into?"

There was a moment of pause as Erza thought it over. "Well… anyone who can put up with my oddities is a plus. I don't think I have a type." She said plainly, unsure.

Minerva grinned to herself, "You weren't kidding before. You don't have much to share."

Erza let herself smile back, "Guess not."

Rolling onto her back, Minerva closed her eyes and rested a hand over her stomach. There was a hint of a smile still present on her lips, however, "I'm starting to wonder if you did anything fun at that guild. It sounds like all you fairies did there was fight."

"It's… not far off from the truth, actually. All in good spirit, though." Erza admitted with a sheepish laugh, "Us girls were prone to one thing, however."

"And that is?" Minerva asked, interest in her voice.

Erza shimmied closer to Minerva and made herself situated so that she was barely brushing up against Minerva's side, "Sleepovers." She grinned.

"And here I was, about to kick you out so I could get my beauty sleep."

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

Minerva rolled her eyes playfully, "You're lucky I'm just that tired that I can't muster the energy to manually throw you off this bed."

Erza puffed out her cheeks in annoyance, "Loosen up a bit.. It's what friends do! We're friends, right?"

"You're playing this card on purpose since you know I can't say no…"

"Perhaps..." Erza smiled guiltily.

"Fine. Suit yourself." Minerva tried to let out a bothered sigh, but the hint of a grin on her lips betrayed that attempt, "Just don't steal all the sheets. There will be hell to pay if you do."

That got a laugh out of Erza as she pulled the covers over herself and Minerva. "It's surprisingly easy to pull a soft side out of you, no matter how hard you try to bury it behind threats."

"I'm not soft." Minerva protested.

"Keep telling yourself that." As if to prove her point, Erza immediately cozied up to Minerva's side and snaked an arm around Minerva's waist, "You can't say no because deep down you don't want to say no."

Minerva let out a groan at that, almost in begrudging agreement. "Is this necessary?"

"Not particularly." Erza said, "It's kind of a habit, though. It helps me sleep better.."

"So… You get in bed with people and smother them to fall asleep?" Minerva sighed.

Wincing, Erza glanced away, "That's… not how I would have phrased it. Being close to someone when I sleep just makes me feel safer…"

Minerva mellowed out at that, glancing at Erza with a concerned look, "Are you afraid to sleep alone?"

"Most nights, no." Erza's voice dropped into something quiet, "But it does help with the nightmares."

"Nightmares, huh…" Minerva repeated. She closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath, deep and pointed. Erza thought that Minerva was annoyed and she went to pull away, but Minerva's arm wrapping around her back stopped her. "You should've led with that."

Gradually, Erza came to smile and she got herself resituated, resting her head on Minerva's collarbone. She closed her eyes and sighed contently. "You really are growing soft."

Minerva's response wasn't verbal. Instead, where her hand rested on Erza's hip, Minerva just slowly dug her nails into Erza's skin.

Erza tensed at the stabbing sensation in her side. "Ouch! Okay! You're not soft!"

Laughing to herself, Minerva retracted her nails and grinned, "Thought so."

Sleep came to Erza easily after that.

[ilovehighhats]

Facets of Perfection, ch. 04

Woo-hoo, just finished my beer and this chapter, both at the same time. Who doesn’t like a simultaneous ending, eh? ;)

The small-talk during dinner was ghastly.

Selina and Bruce tried valiantly to keep the conversation flowing, but all they got in return were monosyllabic grunts from Bane and increasingly flabbergasting comments from Victoria. She was on her third glass of wine before she had her second bite of the salad.

“So, Vic, what are your plans, job-wise? You weren’t idle when you were back across the pond?” Selina tried, plastering a fake smile on her lips. The itch in her throat was getting worse, and her nose started to run the moment they got back home from the airport. Patching up family dinner to at least look civil was the last thing she wanted to do.

"I did an odd job here and there during studies, of course. But now that I finished my postgraduate I'm going to start my career in earnest. Just don’t know where exactly, yet"

"Any offers?" Bruce inquired over a bite of pasta.

"A few prospects."

One less, than there should be, Victoria thought. But that was in the past.

"Here?" It was Selina’s question this time.

Victoria shook her head.

"Most of my contacts are back there. But I'll be visiting."

No one at the table really believed that.

Selina decided to brighten the mood and turned to the other guest.

“How do you find yourself in the holiday season, Bane?”

“What do you mean?” The man asked, clearly caught off guard. His bewilderment replicated in Bruce's surprised stare.

“Aren’t you the one who always stresses the importance of practicality and utility? Just curious how you manage with all this excess around you.”

“I’m not averse to some... Frivolities,” Bane admitted begrudgingly.

Victoria made a face, badly trying to conceal that with her wine glass.

Bane pretended he didn’t notice. He stayed turned towards Selina.

“Would you mind if I used the pressure cooker and slow cooker in the morning?”

“Not at all. What are you going to make?”

“Porridge.”

Victoria snorted into her wine.

“What time do you usually have your breakfast?” Bane kept on asking, without missing a beat.

“Half past seven,” Bruce supplied. “What would you like to have for breakfast, Victoria?”

She leaned back in the chair, squinting her eyes and pursing her lips. She made a show out of thinking about the answer, swishing the wine in her glass pensively, and humming. But then, there was wistfulness on her face, a softness in her eyes when she finally said. “Pop tarts.”

This time Bane snorted into his drink.

Victoria shot him a pointed stare as if she didn’t do the same just minutes before.

“Do you have pop tarts?” she asked the host.

“I don’t think we do,” Bruce said, shaking his head.

“We do,” Selina corrected, quietly. She shared a knowing smile with Vic. “Strawberry and marshmallow.”

“Perfect,” Victoria said before taking another sip from her glass.

“Can I have one too?” Tim asked, an expectant glimmer in his eyes. “Please?”

“Sure, honey,” Selina smiled at him and straightened a non-existant errant lock of hair back behind his ear. The boy giggled.

“Just don’t make a habit out of it. It’s a special treat,” Bruce cautioned.

All through the evening, Cassie was sitting silently in her place, but at this statement, her eyes met Vic’s with a clear enquiry.

“It’s special to me and your mom because it’s all we used to eat for breakfast when we were little.”

“Why?” Tim asked, somewhat absentmindedly, as he seemed more focused on getting a giant serving of pasta into his mouth.

“It’s cheap, and we were dirt-poor,” Selina answered.

“And it’s really easy to make. Just pop it in the toaster,” Vic supplied.

That was the theme of hers and Selinas childhood. The least amount of work, the least amount of money, the least amount of effort were all their moms could give them. Anything beyond was a fairytale seen on tv. Vic promised herself, she’d never settle for mediocre.

That’s why she was so disappointed in Selina’s mundane family.

The little voice in her head told her she really was jealous of the stability and happiness her cousin had, but Vic snuffed it quickly with another swig of wine.

“So, what it is that you do exactly?” Victoria asked, getting comfortable on the living room couch before the TV. Selina and Bruce retreated upstairs, ostensibly to put children to bed, but probably just because they both looked absolutely drained. Vic wouldn’t be surprised if they slept on the spot.

Before they went, Bruce placated his guests with some warm spiced cider. Vic took to it like a parched man on the desert. Bane eyed his glass somewhat suspiciously.

When Vic asked him the question he was in the middle of tentatively sniffing its contents.

“I do this and that.”

“Fascinating,” she said, in a voice that clearly showed it was anything but. “You’re in security, like Bruce?”

“You could say that.”

“Selina mentioned you’re waiting for your next assignment.”

“Did she?”

“So, you’re like, looking after shops and malls and stuff like that?”

The glass stilled mid-air when he tensed.

“Stuff like that,” he replied. His breath misted the thin rim of the glass and he took the smallest sip, barely wetting his lips.

If Victoria were less inebriated she might have noticed some strain in his tone. As it was, she happily refilled her drink and idly watched the screen before them. The tv was turned off, so she could only contemplate their reflection.

“Yeah, you look like one of those guys.”

“Those guys?” Bane echoed.

“You know. A bit past your best years, cashing in on your, hm, shall I say - training?”

“Cashing in…”

“Well, I’m sure you’re great at what you do.” She looked him in the eyes and patted his knee condescendingly.

A strained muscle throbbed when Bane’s jaw tightened.

“There weren’t many complaints,” he hissed out.

“See, that’s the good way to see it. Not many complaints, so most of your, erm, clients were probably somewhat satisfied.”

“Somewhat, probably,” Bane grunted and took a large swig of his drink this time.

“And you know, you can’t expect yourself to be on the same page as all those youngbloods fresh out of school, full of energy and motivation. If that next assignment will be a long one coming, you can always think about changing career paths.”

Bane was stupefied. In the last couple of years, no one offended him as much as this little slip of a woman did in this one evening. He was a master spy, seasoned shapeshifter, investigator, fighter and a tactician. He was the absolute creme de la creme of the security business. His name opened doors, his skills were highly sought out and his reputation was spotless.

Usually, he would be glad that he didn't look the part of a scary mercenary. It was an advantage, an additional way to surprise your foes. But this was a day when he was just himself. He didn't pretend to be anything else from who he felt like. What he felt like was a warrior. Seasoned and battered, but proud and strong. Experienced.

And she thought he was some kind of ageing and sad mall cop, waiting for his next job.

It stung. His self-esteem was deeply hurt, even though he knew better. An opinion of a thirty-year-old alcoholic shouldn't matter to him at all.

The way she regarded him as if he was just an uneducated muscle, just a simpleton she graced with her wisdom out of a sheer abundance of good manners… It infuriated him.

“Speaking of careers, what are those prospects you mentioned at dinner?”

“Why do you want to know?”

An obvious deflection. Like any predator, when Bane smelled blood he knew he would be getting his prize…

“I’m curious, as to what grand plans you might have. Selina mentioned,” he gleefully used the same words she poked him with earlier, “that you intend to stay here indefinitely.”

“Oh, not as long as you, I’m sure,” she threw offhandedly. For a little while, when Bane stewed in his anger, she appraised him, her demeanour somewhat chagrined. In the end, she sighed deeply and settled more comfortably on the couch.

Something caught her attention, which in turn alerted Bane. He felt her slide towards him on soft cushions.

Could it be...

“Whatch’a ‘ave in there?” Vic asked. She was aiming for cute, but it came out slurred and pathetic.

It soured her mood further. Bane’s answer didn’t help in improving it too.

“None of your business.” everything in his posture screamed that she better keep to herself.

Victoria didn’t really want to listen to him anyway, whether he’d communicated verbally or not. She leaned in, almost spilling her drink on his lap.

“It’s a list!”

One could think the discovery was monumental, from the tone of voice she used. Archimedes and his wimpy ‘Eureka!’ couldn't hold a candle to her delivery.

However, Bane didn’t seem too impressed, for some mysterious reason.

“You’re drunk. You should retire for the night.”

She straightened and tilted her head to look at him down her nose. It was extremely difficult because of the difference in height between them.

“Is this a contest in stating of facts, sir? Because I am a champion in that part-” Her fuzzled brain struggled with the word. “Parci-, no, it was partishu-”

“As I was saying,” Bane commented with an air of annoyance, “It’s advisable for you to get some rest.”

He got up and started walking away towards the kitchen.

“Why would you have a to-do list, you burly ape?” Victoria whispered to herself.