the dog that you knew is never coming back.

In fact, she feels comfortable enough to make her second idle comment about his paper - the first one having been last week, and about winning the lottery.

he holds out his mug for her to refill, sparing her an upward glance, corner of his mouth turned upward in a smile. the bruises that splotch his cheeks have yellowed in the past several days.

he sets the paper with its morbid headline face-down, the editorials facing upward.

You take things one day at a time, but you never know when those days will expire. Days do not exist in endless supplies, especially not for warriors like them. For them, life is about being on the cusp of a beautiful thing, only to be hurled off the mountain as soon as you almost grasp it. She holds his hand a little tighter, this small thrill running like a shiver down her back at the memory of how his fingers had explored the intimacy between her thighs. Together, they have known pleasure. And as so often follows pleasure, perhaps they will know pain together, too.

For now, she offers him a smile that is almost lazy, if Diana were capable of such a relaxed gesture. Her fingers enterwine with his, and though she is certainly not unguarded, neither is she actively pushing him away. As she often does, Diana defaults to honesty. ❛ I like having sex with you, Frank. ❜ It is blunt, because the truth needs no decorations to exist.

he'd say he's not a PDA kind of guy, really, but he honestly doesn't remember if he is or isn't. in either case, he loops his arm around diana's lithe waist, feels the muscle tone of her body against his front as they embrace.

up is down and black is white.

don't be surprised when the past comes back to bite like it always does.

how we deal with disappointments is what decides what kind of person we are.

don't talk stupid.

the only way out is to find something that you really care about.

happy is a kick in the balls waiting to happen.

how the hell can you hate someone that much?

though we make the world despise us, we can't lose.

you made it personal.

fighting for the people who run the world gets you stabbed in the back.

pissed off beats scared every time.

there are no souls. all we are is meat and bone.

the past is more than memories.

nobody is happy to look in the mirror anymore, see themselves.

there are worse things than dying.

the only crime in war is to lose.

i think i'm done.

you should have stayed in your hole.

the only way to win is not to play.

loss doesn't work the same for everybody.

hope you remembered a first aid kit.

i'm your only friend in the world.

i just can't figure you out.

my moment of clarity came from the strangest of places.

the people that can really hurt you are the ones that are close enough to do it.

i know that look.

there are things worse than dying.

let me be what i'm meant to be.

in any war, there's collateral damage.

This is not in her nature, to be cruel. This is not in her nature, to ignite a spark then crush it out, violently, with the toe of her shoe. All she sees is the way he deflates, the way she slaughters whatever confidence it had taken to come all the way here. She had been the one to kiss him, had been the one to climb onto his lap, and now look at her still deciding how the next bit goes.

She doesn't think as much as she just takes his hand from his pocket and holds it in her palms, thumb tracing knuckles that always seem to have hints of red. ❛ Frank... ❜ And the way she says his name, too, is a caress.

❛ I don't know how to do this. I don't know if it's worth doing this. ❜ It's been so, so long, Frank, since she's had a semblance of affection in her life. It's been so, so long, Frank, since she was anything other than a shell of the woman she once thought she would be. Diana buries her dark gaze into the floor, and she, too, feels quite small indeed.

"hey." he squeezes her hand, her lithe fingers soft against his rough skin. he's weathered, worn down, and outwardly she's the total opposite. but the mutual understanding that got them to this place seems to creep its way back between them, like a palpable thing that connects them. a string of fate, almost, if he believed in that type of shit.

the thought's too romantic, really, for someone like him at this juncture.

frank thinks he has a semblance of self-control and patience, or maybe he's a goddamn idiot for deluding himself into thinking so. considering he's queued in the lobby of diana's apartment building almost as soon as the thought to head to that side of town strikes him, his broad form an anomaly in the sleek environment of the foyer. her doorman shoots him a stare that frank reciprocates.

She's wrapped in black layers, anticipating the chill of outside to pierce through her like a punishment. Before the cold can determine her sin and delve out its sentence, however, Frank is before her, living evidence that perhaps the Amazon's princess is not always a beacon for warmth herself. Her shivering teeth trace a line across her bottom lip, and she considers, for a time too long to be written off as brief, just walking away from him. Walk she does, yes, but in line with him, though this is done so begrudgingly.

❛ To talk. ❜ She seems to roll his words on her tongue to try them on for size. It is difficult to hold polite conversation once you know what someone tastes like, once you how they fit inside you. She wraps herself further in her coat that is a shade darker than her black hair, once more weighing the option of performing a disappearing act. She sighs, deciding that would be unkind, and settles for being honest instead. ❛ And if it so happens that I do not have much to say to you? ❜

of course, she already knows that, but he's just reiterating that fact. he feels blundering, for the first time in a long time, having made his way over here instead of calling. she'd left him the morning after, and he'd come all the way here as if her presence was a goddamn siren's call to lure him in. he doesn't chase anyone like that who he doesn't hate.

he's not supposed to, anyway.