âI never want to be honest, but iâll try for you.â Daken said, leaning forward in his chair. Daken was pretty sure heâs never been on an official date in his entire life, unless the few informal dinners he had with people counted. Sure there was times he got gussied up in his nicest clothes and had dinner with people, but those were mostly for surveillance, or espionage. Never a normal date, like he was on know. Too much of his life dedicated to revenge, or training, or training for revenge to take serious dating into question. He did honestly try to remember the last time.
âBelieve it or not, probably⊠6 years ago. Before that, probably longer. I donât really date.â Daken said. It was a special skill, not lying, but also not fully telling the truth. What Johnny and him did, however not serious Daken tried to categorize it as in his mind, was dating. And before that, the only one he could remember was in the 60âČs. But even though Eddie knew that Daken also had powers, the whole âincreased lifespanâ thing was a different conversation entirely. âWe live in a world with superpowers. How crazy is it really to believe in something like fate?â Daken responded with a sly smile. This casual intimacy, the hand on top of Eddieâs, was familiar ground. People tended to react positively to touch, no matter the situation. People craved a human connection, whether it ended up being physical or emotional. And Eddie seemed surprised just by Daken touching his hand.Â
âSo this isnât your first rodeo? All the way to married? I feel like I asked the last invasive question, so itâs your turn.â Daken said, taking a sip of his drink with his hand that wasnât currently occupied. He hated invasive questions, and hated people getting to know him in any way whatsoever, but he could pretend to be normal for one night. Then, the next morning, he could leave before Eddie woke up. Easy. Dakenâs done it more times then heâd like to say, but it was easier that way. His entire thing with Johnny proved that Daken wasnât cut out for this fairy-tale romance stuff, not in the slightest. Hopefully Eddie wonât take it too personally.
his answer gets a laugh out of him, raising his glass to take a drink. âwell, if you are bullshitting me at least youâre good at it.â eddie says with a shrug, but if he were being honest, he could read people pretty well. itâs what had made him a good journalist once upon a time. he liked solving the puzzles that no one else dared to, and eddie often pushed himself into completion because he couldnât stand the thought of starting something and not finishing it. but he also knows that daken has had years to perfect his poker face. either way? it didnât matter all that much whether eddie was being honest with him. he had learned all too well that life was short for people like him, and he had nothing left to lose but be honest no matter who it hurt.Â
âdamn, six years.â he whistles, heâs smiling again. he couldnât remember the last time he smiled this much. it might be the small bit of freedom of not having someone talking in your head, or it might be the fact that this was meant to be a normal thing, and sometimes he had missed normal while also feeling guilty about that fact because despite it all, venom was the better part of him. he wouldnât say completed him, because that assumed that something had been lost. âme either. usually.â he shrugs, the last person had been anne, and he royally fucked that whole thing up. eddie hadnât been a good husband, he knew that, but that didnât mean that he didnât still have love for her, she just couldnât be around him anymore. âher name was anne, and she was great. it was just me.âÂ
he looks down, the smile fading, but he looks back up, âi donât knowââ he sighs, âi was just.â a nobody, he wants to say, âwhat happened between me and venom was a complete accident.â it was easier to let it be something as a freak accident, and venom needed a host. âi donât really even have powers.â he shrugs, âi mean, if he leaves then iâm just back to who i was before.â thereâs a small little thump in the back of his head, he laughs, âi know.â venom didnât have to say anything but he had felt it anyway. it must have been strange to be on the other side of this, hearing a grown man talk to himself and the voice inside his head but there wasnât much he could do about it.Â
âmy turn huh,â he thinks about something to ask, turning on the journalism brain, it was quite literally a part of his job to get to the bottom of things, but he didnât feel like asking anything that would lead to a deep discussion, he didnât know if he was ready for all of that. âwell, speaking of relationships, why did your last one fail? if you had one, that is.â he kind of laughs again, âgetting really into it on the first date.â