Chapter Six: Close Enough To Break.
Every morning started with tea in the sunroom, sitting across from you in slippers and bathrobes, discussing weather Damian needed new fencing blades. Every afternood blurred into hours reading side-by-side, training in the yard, or working on crossword puzzles you both failed at but refused to abandon. And every evening ended with the two of you curled up on the couch, a blanket shared between you, thighs brushing more than necessary as a film played quietly in the background.
Bruce came and went, often dragging you away for date night or some social obligation, and each time, Talia watched you go with a bitterness she refused to name.
She told herself it was jealousy but not of you. No. Of the life you had. One she had never been allowed to want. Until now.
It was another lazy evening, just the two of you on the couch, the sound of some rom-com flickering in the background. On-screen, two women stumbled throught a nightclub scene, drinks in hand, laughing wildly under flashing neon lights.
Talia raised an eyebrow. "this seems....ridiculous."
You turned towards her, eyes wide. "Wait. Have you never been to a club?"
Talia shrugged. "Not unless I was infiltrating one for intelligence or to assassinate someone."
You gasped dramatically. "you've never gone just for fun?"
"I don't.. do fun." she said flatly. You sat up, tossing the blanket aside. "That's it. We're going. Tonight."
Talia blinked. "Pardon?"
"I'm taking you clubbing," you said, already halfway to the door. "You have got to experience it once in your life. I'm not letting you die a club virgin."
Talia opened her mouth to protest, but you spun, hit her with that look. soft eyes, tilted head, hopeful smile- and she caved before she even realized it.
"Fine," she sighed.
You squealed and ran from the room.
"Get dressed!" you called out behind you. "Something sexy!"
*********
Talia, not knowing what was considered "club appropriate," Stared at her closet and chose the most impressive gown she owned; a long, emerald green evening dress with a high slit and open back. She slipped into heels and stood before the mirror, titling her head at her reflection. "...This seems correct," she mumbled.
And then the door creaked open. You stepped inside wearing a short, glittery black dress that clung to your curves and left your legs bare. Your hair was curled, your lips red, your eyes gleaming with mischief. Talia's breath caught in her throat.
"That's..not exactly club appropriate," you said, smirking at her choice. Talia blinked, still staring at you.
You crossed the room, heels clicking, and bent down to search her dresser. "Let's find something better."
Talia didn't respond, she couldn't. Her mouth went dry the moment you leaned forward, your dress riding up, exposing the edge of your thong and the curve of your ass.
She clenched her thighs together. hard. A sharp breath left her as she bit her bottom lip, eyes snapping away, but the image was burned into her mind like a brand.
When you stodd back up, you were holding something slinky and strappy.
"Here," you said cheerfully. "This. wear this." She didn't question it. just nodded, dazed.
**********
The club stank of sweat, perfume, and neon dreams. People moved in tight, desperate clusters. Bodies ground together under colored lights. Music throbbed through the walls like a pulse.
Talia hated it instantly.
And yet, your hand was in hers- small, warm, grounding; as you pulled her through the chaos toward the bar. Her heart beat faster from the touch alone.
"This is amazing!" you shouted over the music. Talia nodded, not trusting her voice.
You ordered four shots. When the bartender poured them, you passed her two, downed yours in one go, and beamed at her.
"Drink up!"
She did- if only because you asked her to.
Your smile widened as you grabbed her hand again. "Come on. let's dance!"
She followed you to the dance floor, uncertain, awkward, stiff. Her eyes darted around at the bodies pressed together, hips grinding, hands roaming. Her face flushed at the sight of women curled around each other, mouths close, bodies melting into the beat.
Then she looked at you.
You were moving already-carefree, wild, radiant.
She swallowed hard.
Before she could stop herself, she stepped behind you, hands reaching for your hips. She tugged gently, turning you so your back was to her.
You looked over your shoulder with a grin. And then you started to grind. Talia's hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, her own hips moving with yours. You danced like that for what felt like forever. Flushed, breathless, tangled in heat and flashing lights. Her head dipped once, close to your neck, catching your scent. Her lips barley brushed your skin before she pulled back like she'd been burned.
_
You drank more. You laughed louder. You touched her more freely with each passing hour.
Talia, despite the shots she took, was mostly fine. her assassin's training meant alcohol barely touched her system. But you? You were gone. Giggling. Flirty. Swaying.
You slapped her ass once and nearly fell over laughing. She caught you by the waist, lips twitching.
"You are completely intoxicated." Talia laughed as she parked the car in front of the manor.
"You're so pretty," you slurred. Talia froze.
You leaned in, eyes glassy, staring at her like she was something delicate and divine. "So, so pretty.."
"Thank you," she said breathlessly. "So are yo-"
You kissed her.
Soft, warm, sudden. Your lips crashed into hers, uncorrdinated and clumsy, but so earnest. She gasped against you but didn't pull away. Couldn't.
She kissed you back, Hands sliding to your waist, tugging you onto her lap where you straddled her. Your fingers tangled in her hair, your hips grinding down as your mouth devoured each other, breath hitching, lips parting.
Until you whimpered against her and pulled away, panting. "...Let's go inside," she murmured, no longer able to look you in the eye.
Bruce was waiting at the door. Talia hadn't thought that far ahead. She was still dazed, lips tingling, hand shaking. You stumbled up the walk and squealed, "Brucey!" Before launching yourself into his arms. He caught you effortlessly.
You kissed him, sloppily, deeply.
Talia turned her head. It felt like whiplash. Like watching someone rip open her chest and laugh at what was inside. "You're drunk," Bruce said with a chuckle.
"And you're hot," you slurred, kissing his neck. Talia wanted to disappear. "Come on," Bruce murmured, starting up the stairs. 'Let's get you in a bath."
"Only if you join me," you giggled. "Deal," he said softly, carring you away. Talia was left alone in the entryway, lipstick smeared across her lips, a tremble still in her hands. And a jealousy so sharp it felt like a dagger beneath her ribs.
*******
The next mornign, you didn't remember a thing. Not the shots. Not the dancing. Not the kiss.
Not her.
And when you smiled at her across the breakfast table, warm and easy, calling her your best friend, Talia said nothing. Just bit her tongue. And bled in silence.


















