h m m

Thinking about walking back into PTMC was not easy, but for your daughter, you would do anything. Even if it meant hurting yourself in the process.

You were at home gathering your daughter's toys off the living room floor when you received a call from her preschool telling you that your 3-year-old daughter was being taken to the hospital. Apparently, she had eaten some of her friend's peanut butter and jelly sandwich. For anyone else, it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But Margot, your daughter, has a severe peanut allergy. The preschool informed you that an ambulance was already on its way and said it would be fastest if you met them at the hospital.

“Ok, what hospital are they taking her to?” You asked. Already grabbing your purse and jacket and making a beeline towards the front door.

“Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center,” The woman said.

Your heart dropped, and it felt like time slowed around you. You stopped for a brief second as you approached your front door, but pushed yourself despite the fact that you wanted to stay right where you were. You told the sweet woman, whom you’d met a dozen times picking up and dropping your daughter off from school, thank you. Your body was met with the cold air as you opened your front door. You raced down your porch steps, boots crunching on the dead, dry fall leaves. You unlocked your driver’s side door and practically jumped in, wasting no time starting the car and driving off.

Your mind was racing as you drove to the place you used to call home. It was less than a ten-minute car ride, but it felt like an eternity. The last time you were in the Pitt, you left with unresolved feelings and a mess that you had no desire to go back and clean up. You hadn’t been in contact with any of your coworkers since that one winter day all those years ago. You hadn’t even talked to Dana, who was practically a mother to you. As you drove your car, you prayed that your ex, Jack Abbot, was still working the night shift.

Your and Jack’s relationship was quite frankly something you couldn’t describe with words. You had met each other in passing while he was working as the night shift attending, and you, as one of the new day shift nurses. At first, you would exchange glances and make small talk with one another. As time went on, your conversations bloomed into learning more about each other. You had learned how Jack liked his coffee. Black. He told you how long he had been working in the ER and shared very small details about his life before the Pitt. You told him where you attended school and where you were from. No matter what he told you, you listened, and he did the same for you. Even without telling him, he knew things about you that no one else paid attention to.

He learned what your favorite candy was after seeing it next to your water bottle at the nurses’ station. He knew your favorite color from the socks you wore and the jacket you brought to work with you. He knew your favorite genre of music based on the songs you would hum and sing under your breath while charting. You had never met a person who seemed to be so interested in someone they had just met.

After a few months of working together, you would go out and get drinks with the rest of the Pitt crew. But you two always seemed to find each other in a crowded room. You both could talk to one another for hours and somehow never run out of things to talk about.

Frequently, you would find Jack on the roof after his shift. Other than Robby, you were the only other person who could get him back on the other side of the railing.

When you made things official with each other, nothing really changed. Except for the fact that you would find yourself twisted in his bedsheets the morning after a night out. Or him pulling you into a supply closet, just to get a moment alone with you. That’s when you realized all the little pieces of information he stored away as he got to know you.

Jack would always make sure to keep a few bags of your favorite candy and snacks in the staff lounge, just in case you ran out. He pointed out that when something you wanted was in your favorite color and always told you, “I’ll pay for it.” He knew more about you than some of the people who knew you your whole life. You couldn’t fathom how you got to be the luckiest girl in the world.

Your relationship with Jack was steady, and he couldn’t have been better towards you. He was considerate, loving, and all around a good person. The problem was you. You never felt deserving of the love he gave you. You knew you loved him, but you kept hearing this voice in your head saying you were unworthy of what he was giving you. You grew up surrounded by chaos, and your brain was engraved with the thought that love should be messy. It shouldn’t be this easy.

You weren’t proud of how you left things with Jack. There was yelling, crying, and things said that couldn’t be taken back, mostly from you. You had been lucky all this time that there was no “real” emergency that had you landing in the Pitt. Hell, you were surprised you had gone this long without accidentally running into any of them. All of you and your family’s medical needs were being treated at the other surrounding hospitals, and you even made sure your daughter was born anywhere but PTMC.

You felt sick to your stomach as you pulled up to the ER. Were you ready to face all the people you used to call family? You didn’t have time to ponder your thoughts. You parked your car as close as you could to the emergency room and ran to the automatic doors. You pushed your way through the crowd of people waiting to be seen. You were hit by the smell of the ER waiting room and people begging to be taken back to be seen. When you worked here as a nurse, you tried your best not to let the people who had been waiting for hours get to you emotionally. You knew there were only so many hands and things you could do, but it still hurt to see people who waited for 12 hours in a crowded room with the electric buzz of bright lights. You said your apologies as you squeezed past an older gentleman and approached the front desk.

“Lupe,” you said as your voice quavered and you shot a look to the double doors leading to the main part of the ER.

Lupe looked up at you and opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. She gave you a soft and sincere smile before opening the doors to your right.

You heard the buzz and made your way around the corner. Your heart felt like it was still at your front door, but your feet made their way through the madness of the ER. Your body was hit with the smell of antiseptic and the noise of the never-ending cry that occurs in the emergency room. It had been a long time since you had been in the midst of your old work environment. You forgot how loud it was with the sounds of beeping machines and shouting orders from the nurses.

You halted in front of the nurses’ station, looking up at the board, trying to place which room Margot was placed in. You could have asked for help, but it felt easier figuring it out on your own. Your eyes scanned the lit-up board with its fluorescent blocks of color highlighted with people’s names. Just as you came across your little girl's name, a woman's voice said your name.

Your eyes dropped down from the board to an older woman in gray scrubs with her blonde hair pulled up in a claw clip. Dana. You locked eyes with hers, seeing hers rim with tears.

“What are you doin’ here?” She said softly as she reached to put her hand on your arm.

You kept your eyes on her, not knowing what to say. How do you explain to someone you once thought was going to be at your wedding that you have a child with a complete stranger, who abandoned you and your little girl?

“Is there a little girl in here named Margot? ” Was all you could say, as you bit your lip to stop your chin from wobbling.

Dana drifted her gaze from your eyes and then to your hands fidgeting with your jacket button.

“Yeah, she’s in trauma two. C’mon.” She said as she put her hand on the lower part of your back, guiding you towards your daughter.

Even without telling Dana, she knew the little girl was yours. Dana knew everything, especially around here.

As soon as you approached the clear doors of the trauma room, your eyes fell on your little girl. You saw her ringlets of brown hair in the pigtails you had done earlier this morning. Her bright yellow t-shirt and the matching pants that went along with it. The light-up princess sneakers that she insisted on wearing every day, no matter where she was going. You saw her red cheeks and puffy eyes. The rash that seemed to be everywhere on her body was only getting worse.

Without thinking twice, you pushed the trauma doors open, just like you used to when you were assigned to a case. You rushed to Margot's side, practically shoving everyone else out of the way who wasn’t doing anything critical.

“Bug, I'm here. You’re gonna be ok.” You said with a soft but worried smile on your face.

Your daughter’s eyes fluttered open, finding yours. Her lip started to quiver.

“My throat hurts.” She tried to say as tears started to stream from her eyes.

You could feel her tiny heart racing as you lay your hand on her chest.

“I know, but I’m here. And the doctors are going to help you feel so much better.” You said fighting back tears yourself.

“How much Epi has she been given?” You asked, not taking your eyes off your daughter, your hand interlaced with hers.

The med students looked at each other and then back at you. “I am-well, I used to be a nurse here.” They nodded their heads as the female attending, whom you had never met, responded, “Only pushed one so far, she seemed to calm down with the one dose. We’ll see how she does in the next five minutes.”

Just as your question was answered, the trauma doors opened. You looked up, and your eyes met Robby’s. You could see the swirl of emotions he was feeling as he scanned your face. You saw his eyes drop down to the little girl on the hospital bed with an oxygen mask on her face. He didn’t know you fell in love after Jack or got your heart broken at 20 weeks pregnant. Let alone have a child. He quickly looked back at you, and his feet started to move.

“Dr. Al-Hashimi, we got this.” He said as he pushed past her and snapped a pair of gloves on his hands. The woman, whose name you had just learned, looked at Robby and then you, before turning around and exiting the room.

Everyone else in the room kept moving and informed Robby of everything they had already done. He looked at you again, seeing you look down at the little girl with tears in your eyes.

“Vitals are dropping.” A nurse beside you said, causing you and Robby to snap your heads up to the monitor.

“Push another of Epi,” You heard Robby say.

Margot’s eyes were shut, her tiny body fighting so hard as the grip of her hand lessened on yours. You looked down and ran your fingers across her tiny knuckles. Looking at the chipped bubblegum nail polish that she begged you to buy for her. Your mind raced through all the moments you’ve had with her. From when you first found out you were pregnant, to finding out she was a girl and watching her grow up into this tiny, beautiful human being.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to have you step outside.” One of the med students said coming to your side. Your head snapped to look at him, fighting the urge to slap him in the face. You knew as a nurse that family could get in the way of proper treatment for a patient, but you didn’t care. This was your blood, and you weren’t leaving her side. Before Robby or anyone else could respond, you heard a voice, and the door to the trauma room opened.

“She can stay, Ogilvie, she’s family.”

You knew that voice. You had taken comfort in that voice so many years ago. You heard that voice say “I love you” in the morning, at work, in passing, and before you would fall asleep at night. The gruff voice that would whisper in your ear how much he loved you and how well you were doing in your most intimate moments. The same voice that broke when you told him that things were over.

Your eyes shot up to meet him, and for the first time in years, you were in the same room as Jack Abbot.

The kids always thought when they left High Camp that they were alone, able to run around as they pleased. They were too young to realize that you shadowed each move they made, always watching. Your brother and his mate had many responsibilities within the clan to keep them occupied and you enjoyed being the protector of their children. 

As their younger sister, you were never able to protect Jake or Tommy, even though you wished you could. This was your way of repaying them for all the times they looked after you. And it helped you really loved the kids. 

This particular day, Lo’ak was leading his siblings deeper into the forest. Eventually, they arrived at the old research station where you and Jake had taken your last stand to protect the people. It’d been years since you’d seen the station and it brought a flash of memories back.

The twang of Neytiri’s bowstring as it loosed one arrow, then two. The metallic hiss as a blade soared through the air. The crash as the AMP suit hit the ground. 

You watched the kids from your perch high in the canopy. You didn’t fault them for their curiosity. They knew what this location meant and it’s importance to their Father and Aunt. 

What they didn’t realize, and neither did you, was the predators waiting in ambush. 

CRACK

Your ears twitched back, tail curving up at the noise. Eyes alert and bow taut in hand, you surveyed the area. At first, you couldn’t see anything, but slowly you saw them. Blue bodies dressed in fatigues carrying metal guns, and heading directly for the children.

Pressing the comms unit at your throat, you shot a look toward the children who were none the wiser. “Neytiri, Jake, we have company at the old station. At least 8 RDA soldiers. Avatar’s maybe? I need backup,” you said as you surveyed the soldiers below you. 

“Shit. Copy, we’re headed your way,” Jake said. 

“Give us as much time as you can,” Neytiri said, anxiety laced her tone. 

“Affirmative,” you stated. 

Quietly, you lowered yourself toward the ground right as the RDA soldiers ambushed the children. Screams and snarls rang out, making your blood boil. If they hurt one hair on any of the children’s heads, Eywa help them. 

You needed a plan and fast, but before you could formulate anything solid, the kids began to cry out. 

Bow drawn tight, you ran into the clearing, “STOP,” you snarled at the soldiers. 

The leader looked up from Spider, locking eyes with you. “Well shit,” you said. It couldn’t be him, he was dead. You know, you saw it, did it. He’s dead.

But no, he was right in front of you, that shit eating grin stamped across his now Na’vi face.

“Let them go now,” you said.

“Now why would I do that,” Quaritch chuckled.

“They’re just children you asshole,” you spat. “Haven’t you ruined enough lives already.”

Quaritch startled. Your voice, it was too familiar. As if you knew him, or the him from before. His head ticked to the side slightly, slowly appraising you. The shit eating grin on his face grew and you knew he knew. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” Quaritch scoffed. “We’d assumed you died.”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual here,” you snapped back. 

Eyes not leaving yours, Quaritch addressed his team, “we got quite the package deal here. Sully’s kids and,” he said gesturing toward you, “his own sister. Ain’t that nice.”

You hissed at him. “I won’t ask again, let them go.”

“You know darling, I don’t think I will,” he smirked.

Jake’s voice crackled through your comms, “We’re here.”

TWANG

Your arrow loosed as another soared past your face and into the soldier holding Kiri. All hell broke loose as the soldiers began firing randomly into the trees, attempting to hit an assailant they couldn’t see. You ran into the fray, grappling the nearest soldier and embedding a knife into his chest. 

Grabbing the nearest child, who happened to be Lo’ak, you shoved him away from the fight. 

“Get your siblings and run,” you shouted at him. He nodded, running toward Kiri and Tuk. 

Ducking and weaving through the fray, your blade sang between each soldier until a weight slammed into you. 

Stunned and breathless, you turned toward your attacker. “Can’t have you killing all my soldiers, darling,” Quaritch said.

You snarled, jumping up and running for him. The knife barely missed his neck as he dodged the blow. His arm came up to block the next blow while the other slammed into your face, snapping your head to the side. Mouth tasting of metal, you reeled back and spat. 

“Ha that’s right, not so tough now,” he snarked.

“I’m gonna put you down again,” you snarled. 

Laughing he dodged your next blow. Back and forth you went, the fight seeming to last an age until a sharp whistle broke through the noise. Jake and Neytiri had the kids and were retreating. 

Ducking under Quaritch’s next punch, you slid the blade through the skin on his side while positioning yourself behind him. One more move and he’d be dead again, but the soldiers were regrouping and one was already aiming for your head. 

Turning fast, you leapt into the woods, vanishing before their eyes. 

Quaritch pressed a hand to his side, coming away bloody. A snarl curled his lip, watching you vanish into the forest.

***

It’s been two months since you and Lex started sleeping together, and you can’t take it anymore.

Sure, he’s good in bed, and the sex is addictive, but the possessiveness and constant surveillance have been working your last nerve.

The last time you tried to go grocery shopping by yourself, a car pulled up, scooped you inside, and dropped you straight at his penthouse, where he was waiting on his couch like a king on a throne.

"Who told you you could go grocery shopping?" he reprimanded. Then he went through your bag, questioning all your choices, threatening to get you a dietician since you’re “incapable of making good choices.”

All because you bought a packet of Oreos.

In some ways, this was worse than the yelling you were used to as his assistant, because it was now all too personal.

It’s pretty clear that he’s even trying to move you into his place. The comments and digs aren’t exactly subtle.

“That shoebox you live in is an embarrassment,” he’d scoff. Or, “If I had to live in your apartment, I think I’d actually lose my mind,” he’d remark casually, all the while absentmindedly tracing patterns on your skin with one hand, scrolling through quarterly reports with the other.

Sure, it wasn’t the biggest apartment, but it was yours. Cosy, private, and charming, just as the real estate agent said when they were showing you the place. And most importantly, it was not his.

Which led you here, and now. Finally, at your wits’ end, you are more stressed than ever. Every facet of your life was Lex, Lex, and more Lex. No dental plan, no chauffeur, no designer wardrobe or charity gala swag bag was worth the psychological breakdown looming on the horizon. 

You slide a piece of paper across his desk and wait for the chaos to unfold. Today might be the day you find yourself by one of the creatures he has in his labs and torn apart. 

“What’s this?” he mutters, barely glancing at it, too busy skimming the numbers glowing on his tablet.

“My two weeks' notice.”

His expression sours as he slowly lowers his tablet. You already know you’re in for a lecture, a tirade, but soon you wouldn’t have to hear another one of those again. Not a peep. It’d be someone else’s problem.

“I’m… your what?” he forces out through gritted teeth. You hadn’t seen him this mad in a while. And when Lex is really mad—when he’s quiet, seething beneath the surface—he’s like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

“I don’t think you need me to repeat—”

“Do you have a death wish?” he cuts in, voice low and deceptively calm.

And oh no. He was smiling now.

A terrible, razor-edged thing you’d learned to spot back when you were just his assistant. The rule was simple: avoid him at all costs when he was smiling while mad.

The last time you saw that smile was just last week, come to think of it. A board member he’d been talking to was taken to the pocket universe prison so fast it made your head spin.

He stands up, invading your personal space, his presence overwhelming. “Why are you doing this? It makes no sense. You have a stable job with benefits and perks and—” He trails off, not saying the obvious: “you have me.”

If only he knew that was the biggest issue.

“I woke up one day and realised if I didn’t quit, I’d be doing coffee runs until the day you die.”

“The day I die?”

“Realistically, the day you die is the day I’ll be free,” you say, letting a chuckle slip. Clearly not the best timing for humour, because if looks could kill, your head would be splattered all over his very expensive mahogany desk.

***

It's been a month, and you're unemployed. 

Unemployed but happy.

You’ve gone home to your parents to lounge around and recover until further notice. Leading up to your departure, he had already started to bombard you with gifts and thinly veiled threats to lure you back to work and his bed, so this seemed like the best course of action. 

The last two weeks of work were enough to dissuade you of ever crawling back to him, though. He was very dedicated to making them a living hell. Well, more than usual.

You had never been called an idiot so many times in such a short span of time. 

Though if anything, it only made you more determined to leave. You managed to help train up a replacement and free yourself from Lex Luthor’s grip. The next poor sucker didn't know what they were in for. You’d miss your little midnight rendezvous, sure, but no dick was worth this.

He had you running up and down Metropolis, errands piling on top of one another like some sadistic obstacle course. He was back to his old ways before all the great sex. And you knew exactly what it was. 

Lex Luthor doesn’t lose. 

He didn’t want to relinquish the power he had over you.

And maybe you deserved more than just being a pawn in his game. 

As you ponder life and all things good from your place on the couch where you’ve hardly moved from all day, the doorbell rings.

“I'll get it,” you chirp in a sing-song voice.

Skipping over to the door, expecting the mail or maybe a delivery you forgot about, you swing it open without a second thought.

You open the door with a lazy smile, only to be met with your worst nightmare. 

It cannot be. 

You must be dreaming.

“Lex,” you spit out like it hurts.

“Let me in,” he demands, but you stand your ground. Your legs might be shaking a little, but you’re strong enough to tell him no.

“Fuck no! Don’t you have important things to do? Like ruining lives on a global scale?”

“Sure, I do, and yet I’m here to see you, in the little hovel your parents call a home.”

“Lex—”

“I’d hate to see it reduced to ash. Let me in.”

He moves forward, but you throw your arm out, slamming your hand flat against the other side of the doorframe. The crack of skin against wood startles even you. From the way his eyebrows raise, he’s surprised to see you acting like this. A month away from him has done wonders for your self-confidence.

“You’re not setting foot in this house. How did you even find me here? Have you been tracking me?” you sigh, already knowing the answer.

Lex smiles thinly, like a predator humouring prey.

“Find another hobby. Can’t you busy yourself with trying to kill Superman?” you continue.

You push harder against the door, trying to slam it shut, but his foot wedges in the gap like iron. No matter how much pressure you apply, the door doesn’t budge.

“How rude,” he drawls, as if this were a dinner party you’d just spoiled, not a confrontation on your parents’ porch. “I send you wonderful letters and gifts, and you can’t even acknowledge me?”

Wonderful letters and gifts?

Diamond earrings paired with “Stay, or I’ll personally oversee the slow, public death of your once-promising career – Lex” wasn’t exactly what you’d classify as wonderful.

You're about to unload a year’s worth of resentment and humiliation when a softer voice breaks through the tension.

“What’s all the trouble?” your mother asks gently from behind you, the floor creaking as she steps closer.

“It's nothing—”

She forces her way past, eyes widening as she recognises him instantly.

“Isn’t this that Lex…?”

“Luthor,” he finishes with a charming smile.

“That’s it! Lex Luthor, you used to work for? Oh, come in!” she beams, her voice full of that natural hospitality you’d prayed she’d put on pause for once in her life.

“Mom—” you protest, but it’s useless. She’s already ushering him inside with all the excitement in the world.

“Honey, it’s Lex Luthor, from the TV!” your mom shouts down the hall to your dad, who’s in his recliner, flipping through a book.

“It’s who?”

“I said, Lex Luthor from the TV!”

You feel your stomach twist as Lex steps over the threshold, triumphant smirk tugging at his lips. He doesn’t even need to say it. You’ve already lost the first battle.

***

You’re stabbing your food with a fork, the tines squealing against the plate, as you watch him charm your parents with his easy smile and too-smooth words.

“What a fine daughter you have raised,” he says warmly, like he hasn’t just threatened to burn the house down an hour ago.

“Well, she turned out fine, considering she was such a hellraiser as a kid,” your mom laughs, glancing fondly in your direction.

“Is that right?” Lex asks, turning that pointed look on you, the kind that strips you bare in front of everyone at the table.

“She was a menace,” your mom continues, oblivious. “You should’ve seen the way she would ride her bike around the neighbourhood, even caught her trying to take off the brakes. In fact, I think I have pictures. Go get the photo album, honey.” She nudges your dad, who’s already rising from his chair.

Your chest tightens like a vice. This is spiralling.

“This is wholly unnecessary,” you cut in sharply, your voice carrying a brittle edge. “Mr Luthor is a busy man—”

But Lex leans back in his chair, spreading his arms in mock leisure, that smug half-smile playing on his lips.

“On the contrary,” he says smoothly, eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve cleared my evening.”

You grumble to yourself, but it’s overlooked by your Dad, who brings out the photo album. 

If you could burrow into the ground and stay there, you would. 

“Doesn't she look cute?” your mom coos at the picture of you dressed like a ladybug for a school play, not one of your finer moments in life. All the while, you can feel Lex’s presence; he’s eating up your embarrassment like it’s a five-star meal. 

“Isn't it a shame our little angel is single?”

“Dad—”

“She is pretty and smart and…can cook a mean lasagna. Are you perhaps single yourself, Mr Luthor?”

You wanted to scream. Were your parents really that desperate to get you off their couch that they'd offer you to a billionaire?

Lex chuckles, that smooth, amused sound that somehow manages to be both flattering and unnerving.

“Well, I am single,” he says, looking at you with a spark of interest that makes your skin prickle, “but I didn’t expect matchmaking to be on tonight’s menu.”

Your mom beams, and your dad claps him on the back like they’re old friends.

“That’s not a no,” your mother nudges you, making your eyes close in frustration. If only she knew. 

“It is nice to have an intelligent conversation with one of your friends,” he laments before turning to Lex to embarrass you further, “Her last boyfriend…not exactly a mental giant.”

“Dad!” you scream so loud the whole neighbourhood might have heard it.

“Well, it's the truth, you like them dumb.”

***

After enduring embarrassment after embarrassment, you pull him by his sleeve, dragging him into your childhood bedroom, away from your parents’ oblivious chatter. His arm resists just enough to be difficult, but not enough to stop you.

“Careful,” he drawls, tugging his arm free with deliberate slowness, “the cufflinks I’m wearing cost more than your house.”

“I need you to go,” you snap.

“When we’re having so much fun?” he mocks, pressing a hand dramatically over his chest. “Not to mention your mother is about to break out the apple pie.”

“You called my parents’ home a hovel,” you bite back, eyes narrowing. “I would think you’d be trying your best to get out of here.”

“Oh, but why would I?” His voice drops low, conspiratorial, leaning in close enough that you can smell the faint spice of his cologne. “This is the perfect opportunity to find out all the little details about my favourite little employee.”

“Former employee, don’t forget that.”

He sighs, like your protests were a mere inconvenience to him, and drifts his gaze around your room. It’s a claustrophobic nightmare, posters lining the walls, a medal here and there, notably none for first place and all gathering dust. He picks up a framed photo of you, the sight of your smiling face making him feel unreasonably annoyed.

“What do you want then?” he counters smoothly, tossing the photo on the floor. You scramble to pick it up, but he continues with his little sales pitch. “We can… negotiate. Money? A promotion? I’ll increase your salary, just come back to work.”

You laugh, bitter and sharp. “Money? After everything you put me through?”

His smile doesn’t falter, though his eyes glint with something darker. “So what, then? You want me to suffer? You want me on my knees?”

The words hang between you, too heavy, too intimate. He sees the flicker cross your face. Curiosity. 

And then he’s actually lowering himself, sinking to his knees, his expensive suit creasing against the worn carpet.

“Stop,” you whisper harshly, panic fluttering in your chest. “We’re at my parents’ place—”

“Not until you agree,” he cuts in, commanding even from below you. “Dinner. Tomorrow night. My place.”

You hear your mother’s cheerful voice drifting from the living room. “Pie’s ready!”

Your pulse hammers in your ears. “Get off your knees,” you hiss, glancing nervously toward the kitchen doorway.

But instead of obeying, he takes your hand in his warm grip. “Not until you say yes.”

You can feel yourself thawing despite yourself. The absurdity and, more importantly, the sheer power of seeing Lex Luthor on his knees for you and all people. It rattles something loose inside you. He looks so damn good. 

Thighs gift-wrapped in those suit pants of his, tie loosened, shirt clinging to his biceps—it should be a crime to look so good in black.

“Please…”

Please? You’re not sure if you’ve ever heard him say the word please, and mean it. Unless you’re thinking about one of the many times you messed up at work and he said, “Please, remind me why I hired you—to spout bullshit in my face? Honestly, you’d function exactly the same if I gave you a lobotomy.”

So, the word please didn’t come easily to Lex Luthor. It cost him something, you could see it in his eyes, and it made you feel things you thought were long buried. 

“Fine, fine,” you mutter, giving in just to end the madness. “Just… get up.”

His smile is slow, triumphant, as he rises to his full height, towering over you again as if the kneeling never happened. He leans in, but stops just short of kissing you in classic Lex fashion.

“Don’t be late.”

***

Against your better judgment, here you were. Back at his penthouse after only a month away from him. You would kick your own ass if you could. 

But you also knew if you went back on your word, he’d probably do a lot more than crash a family dinner and charm your parents into wanting him as a son-in-law.

So you obliged, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t be difficult. 

You pick at your food, swirling it around the plate as he asks you questions, which you only give one-word replies to. The sooner he gives up, the sooner you'll be back in your pyjamas, with all the Oreos you can eat, far away from him. 

“You’re not going to eat? I flew the chef out just so they could make your favourites,” he says, with a smile, though you can see how annoyed he is underneath it all. 

“Not hungry. Your presence is a natural appetite suppressant.”

“How can you treat me like this? I mean, your parents love me. More than the usual brain-dead idiots you’ve brought home before.”

You slam your fork down, the sharp clang ringing through the otherwise elegant dining room, and give him a glare that would work on most people.

“They don’t know what you really are.”

“Which is?”

“A serpent.”

“How biblical.”

You let out a huff and shake your head. For someone so smart, he could be so impossibly dense.

“Even now, you don’t seem to understand why I left. It’s not about money, or power, or your reputation. It’s about respect. You were running me into the ground, and then the moment we started having sex, you started taking over my life.”

His smirk falters, the mask slipping just a little. “That’s not—”

“It is,” you snap, cutting him off before he can spin it into one of his charming half-truths. “You weren’t just my boss anymore, and it wasn’t just sex. I became your project, and it was exhausting. I mean, I like getting degraded as much as the next girl, but…,” you trail off, looking out the window. 

The city lights blur into memories, long nights spent together, the quiet frustration of always chasing his approval; in fact, he had just fucked you against that very window five weeks ago to prove a point. What that point was, you can’t remember, but that’s how it always is with Lex’s rants.  

“How can I fix it?” he asks, as he leans towards you.

Your eyes snap back to him. 

Was he…cooperating?

“I don’t need you, but…I’d prefer to have you back.”

He sounded sincere. You didn’t know he could do that. Must be a new update to his operating system. 

“You can’t just ‘fix’ me like a problem on your desk, Lex,” you say quietly.

“I’m not trying to fix you,” he replies, voice softening. “I want to fix us, and believe it or not, I miss having you around. The new assistant is twice as incompetent but not nearly as entertaining.”

“Almost a compliment,” you murmur.

“And not nearly as beautiful,” he adds, taking your hand and brushing a kiss across your knuckles.

Your heart jumps in your chest, “I’m not that easy to win over.”

“Let me try.”

***

You were breathless and aching before you could even think. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he lavished you with kisses. Stripping one another of your clothes like you were running out of time. 

Though if you were going to be honest with yourself, some part of you wanted this. The confrontation, the drama, the final word.

“Looks like nothing’s changed,” he sneers, eyes raking over you. “Still as desperate for me as ever.”

Something downright primal overcomes you, and before you can stop yourself, your palm connects with his cheek. The sound cracks through the room.

You see it instantly, the flicker of disbelief when he turns back to you slowly. The look on his face is delicious: pure shock laced with something darker. His eye twitches once, a dangerous tell. Never in your life did you think you’d slap Lex Luthor in the face. You certainly didn’t expect to still be standing after doing it.

“Did you just—?” 

“What are you going to do about it?” you shoot back without hesitation. Your heart is hammering, but you won’t let him see it. This is a rare opportunity, and you’re going to use it to the fullest.

“You want me back, don’t you? So…”

You square your shoulders, puffing out your chest with fake bravado, meeting his gaze head-on like you’re daring him to make the next move.

“Get on your knees.”

He smirks, but gets on his knees regardless, pulling your legs to the edge of the bed to rest on his shoulders. 

“How much have you missed me?” you ask.

“Enough to behave,” he says, eyes locked on yours, “and that should terrify both of us.”

He tugs down your panties to reveal your soaked pussy. If you were being honest with yourself, you got wet the moment he kissed your hand. 

“Looks like you missed me too.”

“Not as much as you missed me,” you snap back, refusing to look away.

“Debatable,” he chuckles, even though he knows damn well just how much your leaving inconvenienced him, professionally, personally, maybe even emotionally, though he’d never admit it.

Before you can fire back and continue your verbal sparring, he shuts you up with his mouth. His tongue toying with your clit as he starts finger fucking you, not holding back in the slightest. 

You don’t manage to bite back the whimper in time. Fuck, you’d forgotten how good it felt. 

“Lex…” you moan, as you tighten your legs around his head, almost forgetting he needs to breathe. A few moments later, he forces your thighs apart and looks up at you, breathing heavily. 

“You’re about to suffocate me. Do you want me to die?”

“Kinda.”

“Unbelievable,” he scoffs at you before going back in for another taste. Something tells you he didn’t mind it as much as he let on. 

***

Lying in bed together after a long, restless night, your head resting against his chest, maybe you were fooling yourself, maybe you really were doomed to be dragged into Planet Lex’s orbit. But right now, the tension that usually crackled between you felt a little less sharp, a little softer.

“So you’re coming back to work?” he asked, voice deep and almost comforting.

“For now. With a pay rise and some of those perks you promised. Like you said, or I’ll quit again.”

“Okay.” He sighed, running a hand along your outer thigh.

“Oh, and no more showing up at my parents’ house. I won’t tolerate that. It’s all about boundaries, Lex.”

“I understand,” he agrees all the while gritting his teeth. 

“And no more coffee runs to Jitters. You always make me throw it out, and it’s so wasteful.”

“Alright.”

“And I swear, if you hack my smart fridge again—”

He shuts you up with a kiss, all smug and unapologetic, like it’s the perfect way to dodge accountability.

“Don’t push it.”

“Whatever.”

You should have known better than to bring it up during breakfast—Lex hated distractions when he was reading reports. Still, you’d been feeling restless, craving something cozy to soften the sharp edges of the penthouse. Cinnamon candles, soft throw blankets, maybe a few garlands and pumpkins… something warm to make fall feel real instead of a date on a calendar.

“I was thinking,” you began, carefully slicing into your toast, “maybe we could decorate a little for fall? Just the living room, nothing crazy—”

Lex didn’t even look up from the holographic display hovering above the table. “No.”

Your fork paused. “No?”

“It’s a ridiculous idea,” he said, as if swatting a fly. Tone flat, final. Eyes still focused elsewhere.

You blinked, the smallest sting landing right behind your ribs. “Ridiculous?”

He finally glanced at you then—brows lifted, vaguely amused that you were surprised. “This is a multi-million dollar penthouse, not a craft store.”

Your shoulders fell before you could stop them. “I wasn’t going to glue glitter to the windows, Lex. Just… some fall accents. You know, to make it feel cozy and more homey.”

“I said no.” He dismissed you by looking back at his display. “That should be the end of the conversation.”

Normally, it would’ve been. You were used to his dominance, used to being his soft, obedient constant in a world of sharks. He didn’t have to raise his voice or threaten—Lex Luthor never needed to. One firm sentence and you’d melt.

But the way he’d said ridiculous…

You didn’t argue. But you didn’t speak again either. Not that morning.

⸻

The first day, Lex didn’t notice your silence. You still made the bed precisely, still cooked dinner the way he liked, still wore those pretty dresses he adored. You just… didn’t try to make conversation. He talked, you hummed or nodded. When he kissed your cheek, you let him, but you didn’t lean in like usual.

By day three, he noticed.

“You’re quiet,” he said one evening, loosening his tie as he entered the bedroom. You were folding laundry, lips parted just a little, eyes down.

“Mhm.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No.”

He tilted his head, studying you like a problematic equation. “You’re not upset about the decoration nonsense, are you?”

You did not look at him. “You said it was ridiculous.”

“And it is.” He slipped behind you, arms wrapping around your waist. Normally you’d melt into him, tilt your head, sigh. Instead, you set down the shirt in your hands and stepped away under the guise of putting things in the closet.

He froze.

He didn’t say anything about it at first, but you could feel him assessing you every time you moved. You still did everything he expected—house immaculate, meals timely, clothes pressed, his routines anticipated—but you were quiet. Distant. Not bratty. Just… not his usual perfectly pliant darling.

And it unnerved him.

⸻

After a week, Lex started trying to bait you back into conversation.

At breakfast, he’d say something dryly humorous just to see if you’d laugh. You’d smile politely and eat your yogurt. Passing him in the hallway, he’d tap your hip and say, “Careful, darling,” just to get a reaction. You’d murmur “sorry” and keep going.

The fourth night, he’d come home from a meeting later than usual. You’d already eaten. His dinner was still warm on the stove in a covered dish. His suit jacket was on its hanger. His files had been organized and moved to his office like you always did.

Everything was perfect—except you didn’t greet him. You didn’t kiss his jaw or ask how his day was. You were reading on the couch, curled under a blanket without inviting him to join.

Lex stood there for a full minute, watching you. Waiting.

You didn’t even look up.

⸻

By the end of the second week, you figured either he’d forget entirely or he’d put you over his knee for acting off. He was never cruel, but he could be cold when crossed. You weren’t trying to punish him—you just couldn’t bring yourself to keep pretending your feelings weren’t bruised.

That afternoon, you were upstairs in your shared bedroom, hair tied back, cozy in one of his old shirts, reading while the rain tapped the glass. You didn’t hear him come in—you were too lost in the chapter.

“Fine.”

His voice cut through the quiet.

Your eyes lifted from the page. Lex was standing in the doorway, jacket off, sleeves rolled, expression unreadable.

You blinked. “Fine, what?”

He exhaled through his nose like it irritated him to repeat himself. “Decorate.”

You sat up slowly, unsure you’d heard right. He stepped further in, arms crossing.

“But nothing over the top,” he added sharply, like the concession physically pained him. “No inflatable pumpkins. No paper bats hanging from the ceiling. And absolutely no scented pinecones.”

Your heart thudded hard in your chest. “Really?”

He gave a small, strained nod. “If it will end this… whatever this is—yes.”

For a fraction of a second, he looked almost uncomfortable, as though admitting defeat violated some internal code. Then you moved.

You shot off the bed so fast his eyes widened. Then you threw yourself into his arms with a delighted gasp, nearly knocking him backward.

“Lex!”

He caught you reflexively, hands firm on your waist. Your legs wrapped around his hips like instinct. You cupped his face and kissed him, hard and happy and breathless.

He let out a startled huff against your mouth, then his grip tightened and he kissed you back, low and urgent. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, but there was no bite in it.

“You’re the best,” you said against his jaw, and you meant it.

“Mm. You’ve been insufferable.”

“You called me ridiculous.”

His hands flexed against your thighs. “…It was a poor word choice.”

You leaned back enough to look at him, eyes shining. “You hurt my feelings.”

He didn’t flinch, but his gaze flickered. “I noticed.” A pause. “I didn’t like it.”

You kissed him again, softer. “Thank you for letting me decorate.”

“I said nothing excessive,” he warned, as if he needed the last word. “Subtle. Elegant. And if I see a single plastic scarecrow, I’ll set it on fire.”

You giggled and nuzzled into his neck. “Deal.”

Lex carried you to the bed without putting you down, lips brushing your ear as he muttered, “Next time you want something, try asking once instead of staging a silent rebellion.”

“You wouldn’t have listened,” you said simply.

He didn’t argue—because you were right.

But when you lifted your head to smile at him again, he blinked like he was surprised by how much he’d missed it.

The sentence never makes it completely out of your mouth. 

Lex cuts you off, crushing his mouth against yours, the kiss fierce and suffocating. You taste the scotch on his lips, one of his hands snakes up to your wet hair and tugs. Another hand wanders around to your lower back, yanking your body towards his, the warmth a sharp contrast to the cold glass behind you. 

It’s desperate, intense, and dangerous…

Every instinct is screaming for you to stop, to push away. 

But you can’t. Even if you wanted to. 

Your hands wrap around and grasp his shirt in fists, grounding you because if you don’t hang on, you’ll crumble. 

I hate him! Why am I doing this?

But as Lex deepens the kiss, the reasoning voice inside you vanishes. Rain patters harder on the window outside, helping to drown out your thoughts. 

It’s only seconds till he breaks away, leaving you both panting. There’s a darkened look in his eyes and you swear he’s about to go in again- 

Then, he straightens, snatches his coat from off the chair, and storms away without another word.

You remain, stunned, watching as he disappears down the hallway.

What on earth…

Your eyes drop to his glass perched on the table. You grab it without missing a beat and down the scotch instantly, liquid burning the back of your throat, making you cough a little. 

It’s not nearly enough to make you forget about ten seconds ago. 

His mouth against yours. His hand in your hair, the other wrapped around your waist…

Your fingers reach up and ghost your now swollen lips, then drop to your side. 

Now what?

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗ ‗‗ ‗

The pounding in your head wakes you before the sun does. Your throat burns, your sinuses are clogged to the brim, and every inch of your body aches. 

You roll over, groaning, sheets tangling around your legs. The rain from last night, drenching you, and lack of sleep finally caught up. 

Figures. 

After everything, the interview, the kiss, that you can’t stop replaying in your head, the storm outside, your body eventually betrays you with something as simple as a cold. 

Your phone’s ringer blares out, making you flinch in surprise. You grab it quickly to silence it, and see that it’s Jimmy. 

“Where are you? We’ve been waiting for you to come in!” His voice crackles over the speaker after you answer. 

“I’m-” you cough, and swallow what feels like shards of glass, “I’m not coming in today.”

You can hear him sigh on the other end. “The media is going insane! You can’t just not-”

“I’m sick, Jimmy,” you rasp, hoping that he can hear it over the phone. You squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to make the throbbing headache stop. “Unless you guys want me sneezing over all your desks.” 

“Oh. Sorry. Seriously though, what you did last night was crazy. Get better… soon. Like really soon. We gotta talk.” 

“Okay,” you say, but he’s already hung up. 

You drop your phone on your bed and it bounces and thuds on the floor. Great.

The silence in the room calms you, and without Jimmy shouting at you, the throbbing starts to fade…

Until there’s a knock at your door. 

“Open the door,” a voice commands. It’s Lex. Unmistakable. He’s trying the handle, but you locked it before you went to sleep. 

“Go away,” you croak back. 

His feet shuffle away from the door, then approach again, accompanied by the sound of metal against the handle. A key. Good grief. Can this man leave you alone for two seconds?

The lock clicks and you swear under your breath. He opens the door and blinks, as if seeing such a mess isn’t something he’s accustomed to. With a man as organized and structured as him, you wouldn’t be surprised if he covered his eyes. 

His eyes rake over you, taking in the jumbled sheets, your red nose, your flushed cheeks, your legs, bare and hanging out the side of the bed. It’s a harsh contrast to his smooth dark grey suit he was armored with today.

For once, he doesn’t smirk. 

“You look terrible.”

“Thanks. So do you.” 

He furrows his brow at your comeback. You glance down and see that he’s holding… a coffee cup and a paper bag. He sets it on the nighttable by your bed. 

“Can you grab my phone?” You ask, gesturing lazily with one hand. 

He rolls his eyes. 

“PlanetWatch camp is being set up today.” Lex says, tugging at his tie with a sharp, irritated motion. “I was going to bring you along, but seeing the state you’re in, I wouldn’t want any biohazards ruining my set ups.” 

You shift uneasily against the sheets, glaring. “I wouldn’t have come anyways.”

Lex tilts his head like you just said something laughable.

“My boss wants me back at work,” you continue, “I basically have my job back, and better. People actually want to hear from me.” 

His lips curl into a sneer. “No. People may want to hear from you, but that still doesn’t mean you’re safe. You see, last night you exposed that you have knowledge you shouldn’t have. That you’re still close to my operations on PlanetWatch. Enough to make others wonder what else you know. My enemies are far less patient than I am. They’ll come for you, because they’ll believe you’re holding answers that even some of my executives don’t have.”

There’s no mention of the night before. The tension in the room is thick, and you can feel your face burn and heartbeat flutter restlessly. 

You open your mouth, as if to say something, then cough violently into your arm. 

Lex takes a step back like you’re spreading the plague. Germaphobe.

“Stop this,” you whine, meeting his blue gaze. “You don’t have to keep pretending that I’m at risk and need saving.”

For a moment, something flickers in his eyes. A flash of the man who confessed I do care. 

A flash of the man who shut you up by kissing you. 

And then it’s gone. 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he says cooly. “Last night was a mistake. You are at risk. That isn’t a lie.”

There. You swallow hard, caught between anger and… disappointment. 

Not the mention you wanted, but at least he knew it happened. He wasn’t that drunk.

He breathes deeply, and exhales, calculating his next words. “This is business. My opponents will use you as bait, leverage, a knife to my throat. You think I can just let that happen?”

You avoid his piercing eyes by shifting yours to the wall. 

He drops his head for a brief moment in frustration. 

“I’ll be sending someone to drop off some medication. Take it.” He says finally. 

You continue to give him the silent treatment. 

He deserves it. 

Lex sighs and walks out of your room, shutting the door behind you, leaving you to your sniffling mess. 

‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗ ‗‗ ‗

A few hours later, a doorbell chimes throughout the apartment. You sit up in bed groggily, in a half awake, half asleep state. Your phone is still on the ground, and the ice in your coffee has melted, still full. Inside the brown bag was a donut, which you ate before you passed out. 

It was actually really good. 

You manage to stand, holding on to the nightstand beside you to steady yourself, then slowly make your way to the front door. 

There’s a small black box sitting there, LuthorCorp logo emblazoned. You pick it up and inspect its contents, a single pill bottle labeled with a name you don’t recognize. On the back, the label says “TRIAL USE ONLY”.

Great. He wants to poison me.

At this point, your throat is in so much pain that you’ll do anything to make it stop, so against better judgment, you wander to the kitchen, fill a glass, and down one of the pills. 

At first, nothing happens. You can feel the tablet slide down your esophagus, and you make your way to the patio to sit outside and get some fresh air. 

The second you sit down, you can smell the potted flowers to your left, the smoky Metropolis air, the car exhaust, the concrete from below, and even a whiff of the salt breeze from the ocean. 

“How-” you breathe, and notice that the burning in your throat is fading away. 

Where has this medication been my entire life?

In a matter of minutes, almost all of your symptoms are gone, save the occasional trickle from your nostrils, probably left over mucus buildup from laying down all day. 

You’re stunned. Out of excitement, you hop out of your chair and run to your room, grabbing your phone. 

“I’m coming in,”  you quickly type to Jimmy. 

You’ve never gotten ready for work faster. It’s already 3pm, but you want to see your coworkers, especially after last night. 

‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗ ‗‗ ‗

You hadn’t even gotten two feet in the door before you were mobbed. Staff clustered around you, voices overlapping, hands tugging at your arms. Somehow, you manage to shove your way through to your desk, but not before Jimmy, Lois and Cat corner you. 

“You’re back!” Cat squeals, blonde hair flying as she throws her arms around you. 

Jimmy follows with a hug of his own. “About time. You had us thinking you dropped off the face of the planet.” 

Lois doesn’t hug you. She just smirks, arms crossed. “You were faking being sick, weren’t you.” 

You laugh nervously. “I uh, I think I slept it off. And maybe took something strong. Whatever it was, it worked” you say. 

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either.

Lex is rubbing off on you. 

“Well, you’re trending on all platforms,” Cat chirps, leaning over your chair. “Everybody’s talking about you”

“What was it like at The Sphere News?” Jimmy asks, digging around for his phone. “What was Cleavis like in person?” 

“Are you going to write another article?” Cat chimes in again. 

Their questions tumble over one another until you raise both hands. “Guys. One question at a time before my head explodes.” 

They all sigh in unison but back away from you. 

You glance around the office. “Where’s Clark?” 

They mimic your action, Jimmy turns back and shrugs. 

“I just don’t wanna have to repeat myself, but oh well,” you plop down in your chair. “Where do I start?

Lois takes a step forward, and your pulse quickens. She always asks the hard questions. “First things first. Be honest. Are you working with Lex Luthor?” 

You hesitate. A moment too long. “Yes,” you say hesitantly. “But it’s complicated.” 

Jimmy snorts, failing to stifle a smirk. “Complicated. Uh-huh.” 

You glare. “Not like that.” 

Though the burning in your cheeks betrays you. 

“When I started writing about LuthorCorp, it was just research. I had a leak, someone feeding me information. Then… he pulled me in. Said if I wanted facts, I should see things firsthand. That’s all.” 

Lois narrows her eyes. “So you were his mouthpiece.” 

“No, I’m not,” you retort sharply. “I don’t print what he wants me to. I print what I see.” 

Lies. 

“That’s a thin line you’re walking,” Lois mutters. “And you know it.” 

Jimmy’s eyes shift between you and Lois, and cuts in before you start arguing. “PlanetWatch. What’s the big deal about it?” 

But before you can answer, your phone buzzes against the table. You glance at the screen. 

Your stomach knots. You practically have his number memorized now. 

You answer it cautiously. “Hello-”

His voice comes over, commanding, but smooth. “Enough chit chat. I’m waiting outside. We’re going on a field trip.” 

Click. 

Lois raises her brows even more skeptically. “That was him, wasn’t it.” 

Grabbing your bag, heart thrumming. “Sorry. Gotta go.” 

You push your way past them, feeling slightly guilty for not staying. You show up, give them partial lies, then head out. You’d be surprised if you’re not fired soon. 

But based on your conversation earlier with Lex, this is PlanetWatch camp related. 

And you’re dying to know more about it. If the stolen documents had the truth. How the military is cooperating with LuthorCorp. If those Raptor suits were being made. 

Your heels click rapidly down the hallway and into the elevator. You hurriedly tap the bottom floor button, and then frantically the close door button, avoiding any more contact with people. 

The usual black car idles by the curb. As you approach it, the driver steps out and opens the back door, allowing you to enter. 

Lex isn’t inside the car. 

And part of you is… disappointed. The other part is relieved. The driver says nothing to you as he pulls away, leaving you in the near silence of the vehicle. 

It’s a brief ride. 

You were right, as the car slows, you look outside to see the beaches of Metropolis. A portion of the beach is roped off, and you can see little black tents scattered around. 

“Mr. Luthor is waiting,” the driver speaks up. You nod once, slipping out of the car and intuitively following the narrow path that cuts toward the shore. 

The wind carries grains of sand across your ankles, and the hush of waves grows louder. Each step sinks into the soft ground, your heels are useless. With a frustrated huff, you slip them off, holding them loosely in one hand as you continue barefoot across the cooling sand. 

Ahead, the glow of floodlights washes over the scenery, casting a blue glow that contrasts the setting sun over the tents, silhouettes of soldiers and LuthorCorp technicians moving briskly between them. 

One tent flap stirs, and Lex ducks out. 

This must be what he was referring to when he said he was "waiting outside." Not waiting outside The Daily Planet, but waiting outside Metropolis.

He straightens the instant he sees you. For a moment, he doesn't move. Just watches, shoulders squared, stern look on his face. 

When you’re finally within earshot, the tension in his jaw breaks into a devilish grin. 

“Welcome to PlanetWatch camp.” 

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

You hadn’t taken your eyes off him. Guess he noticed. He keeps his eyes trained on the street in front of him.

“How did you like the taste of the spotlight?” For a minute you think he’s mocking you, but he’s grimacing, and there’s a hint of candor in his tone. 

“Can’t stand it. That’s why I used my pen name in the first place,” you respond. 

“Everyone wants fame. Everyone wants to have all the attention. But there’s a price.” 

You furrow your brows. “This is different, you know that-” 

And then it hits you. “You wanted me to be seen with you, didn’t you? That’s why you put me in that dress and had me tag along to your stupid press conference.” 

His grimace shifts into a sly smile. “You learn so quickly.” 

You want to jump out of the car and roll on the streets of Metropolis and get run over by a car. How could Lex be so selfish? And annoying?

“I’m done.” 

Lex finally looks at you for the first time in the car. “Done?” 

“I’m sick of your games. I’m tired. My pen name and my own name are ruined, thanks to you. I’m done working with you.” 

The car slows to a stop at a street light. He turns to face you completely now, a red glow casted on his face hauntingly. 

“You’re not safe anymore. Even if you did try to go back, people at the Daily Planet won’t trust you anymore. And I have enemies that will track you down and try to use you as leverage or pry information out of you.” 

His words sting with truth. Amidst all this confusion, lies, hiding, control, you can’t help but accept that truth. 

“Okay, so?” you say slowly, looking out at the city as the light switches to green and he accelerates the car. 

“You’ll stay at my penthouse-” 

“What?!” You blurt out, cutting him off. “Are you out of your mind?” 

He sneers. “Don’t worry, you won’t be sharing a room with me, I have a guest room.”

“I wasn’t- I didn’t think-” you stammer, feeling mortifyingly flustered by the thought of sharing a room with Lex Luthor. 

“No! I have my own apartment,” you finally manage through gritted teeth. 

It’s dark outside, thankfully to conceal the flush crawling up your face. 

“People will stalk you, harass you, and maybe even physically attack you. You’ll see. Just let me know when you change your mind.” 

The car slows to a stop, and you realize he’s driven you right to your apartment. 

Did he know I wasn’t going to accept his offer? Is this another tactic to manipulate me more?

“I have some things to take care of in the next few days. A few business deals along with acquiring a couple companies. Thankfully Harper McNeil is out of the picture for now so I can get some work done, but we’ll have her back in the spotlight in no time.” 

You gawk at him. The car door clicks open. 

“So what am I supposed to do? Just sit around until you want me back to torture me again?” 

“No. Just try to stay alive. I think I enjoy your presence more when you talk back. A cold body isn’t fun to argue with.” 

And with that, you lurch out of the passenger seat and slam the door, harder than you ever have before, listening to its echo down the neighborhood. 

He sees your glare through the tinted window and drives away, a smug look spread across his face. 

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗ ‗‗ ‗

You barely sleep that night. 

Every click, tap, passing of a car, neighbor’s voice through the walls, you name it, keeps you on edge. 

By the morning, you look dreadful, and not even a cold shower and first cup of coffee wakes you up enough. 

You sit in your apartment, debating on your day. 

You could stay here, wait out Lex’s schedule, until he wants you back again. But you worry about being cornered in your apartment, and you’re terrified to be left alone. 

Or you could go to work, see how people treat you, maybe try to write something. 

Or figure out how to redeem your name. 

Hmm…That seems impossible at the moment, and you spend a while trying to come up with a plan, but… nothing. 

Off to work.

It’s almost the afternoon by the time you push through the revolving doors and make your way to the elevator. You had tried to get more sleep and weigh your options and you ended up losing track of time. You keep your head down the whole way through the bullpen, avoiding eye contact with anyone around you. 

You’re nearly to your desk without any interaction when - 

“Hey, you’re back. Everything okay?” 

It’s Perry, and your palms are already sweating, trying to figure out how you’re going to navigate the day. 

When you turn to face him, he actually looks… concerned. An unusual look from your boss. 

“Perry, It’s been hell. Things aren’t as they seem.” 

“You mean to tell me it’s not a coincidence that you happened to be at some military base and just ran into Lex Luthor?” 

You inhale sharply. “Um, no. He… asked me to come with him.” Hurry, think fast. “I started writing some articles a while back about LuthorCorp. He figured he wanted me to get more real insight rather than speculating and misinforming people… so I went. I took my own notes, wrote the article myself, and it’s based mostly on facts.” 

“Mostly?” Perry asks incredulously. 

You tilt your head and scoff a little. “Hey. We’re journalists. Truth can be subjective. Plus, it’s Lex Luthor. He probably wants some things hidden.” 

He waves a dismissive hand. “You’re right. But people are worried you’re just getting fed information. They think Harper McNeil is a liar and sellout. What are you going to do about it?” 

“Keep… writing?” You shrug. 

His eyes dart around the room and then leans in closer to you. “I’m sorry, but frankly, I’m not sure I want anything published by you, or your pen name right now. It might hurt the credibility of The Daily Planet. It’s not personal - actually it is personal, but let’s give it a few weeks for things to calm down online and then maybe we can figure out what you can do…” 

“Perry, you can’t be serious, it’s not that big of a deal-” 

He gives you a sorry look. “Take some time off. Revise some of your peers' articles. Use your vacation days. I don’t know what else to tell you.” 

And with that, he turns and chases down another journalist, leaving you hopeless at your desk. 

Jimmy wheels over. “Hey.” 

You grunt at him and plop down in your chair, pouting. 

“Wanna read my latest?” 

“No.” 

“Sorry I asked. What’re going to do?” He says. 

You throw your hands up in the air in frustration. “Why does everyone keep asking me what I’m going to do? I don’t know!” 

Jimmy doesn’t respond, and instead, scoots his chair back to his desk, giving you a nervous side eye on the way back. 

Lois doesn’t talk to you. Clark gives you a weak smile from over his cubicle, but doesn’t approach you at all. 

Great. I have no friends. 

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗ ‗‗ ‗

You glance at your small grocery list on your phone as you step out of the building. 

After a long day of checking emails, clicking arbitrarily on the screen, revising a few intern’s articles, a bunch of useless work, the most interesting thing right now is restocking on a few fridge items that you were out of. 

You spot a familiar store on the corner across the street, and you make your way over, hurrying and avoiding gazes and apprehensive looks from people around you. Maybe you’re just being paranoid, but you swear you spot someone taking a picture of you from across the street. 

In the hustle of the city, you fail to spot two men in grey suits, who looked at each other when you left the Daily Planet, and began to walk towards you. 

Right as you’re reaching for the last coffee creamer on the top rack, you feel a presence behind you. 

“Harper McNeil-”

You yelp and almost drop the bottle, whirling around, gasping. The two men tower over you, wearing sunglasses to conceal their identities. 

“We’d like a word with you.” The one on the right says. 

“I’m- sorry, I’m a little busy,” you stutter, wanting to turn away, but you’re frozen in fear. 

These aren’t Lex’s men. They’re probably some pawns from a rival corporation. 

“We know you are working closely with Luthor. We just want to ask a few questions," Lefty says. 

You glance around, looking for some aid, but the dairy aisle is vacant, save the three of you. 

In a split moment, you drop your shopping bag and start to bolt for the exit, but one of them reaches out faster than lightning and snatches your arm, stopping you dead in your tracks. 

“Let go of me!” You yell, yanking your arm, but it’s no use. 

“Maybe Luthor will come rescue her,” Righty sneers, with crooked teeth, to the other. 

They instantly let go when a stranger rounds the corner. Guess they’re worried about being caught too. 

With the distraction, you run away, and they follow you afterwards, walking briskly to keep up attempting to stay inconspicuous.

Lex was right. I’m not safe at all. 

The bell on the grocery store’s door rings loudly when you step outside. You stuff a hand into your bag and pull out your phone as you continue to walk, luckily losing the two grey suited men in your pursuit through the crowd of people. 

You call a number you never saved. 

The dial tone stops. 

“Hello-” 

“Help-” you immediately cut off the voice on the other end. 

“Ready to take my offer?” 

“Oh for heaven sakes, Lex! I’m being chased!” 

Silence. 

You look at your phone, realizing he hung up on you. 

“Dammit!” You’re just about to hurl the phone onto the ground. “Useless piece of-” 

A black car flashes up to the curb beside you. You recognize it from your 5pm meetings. 

“Hallelujah,” you gasp, and hop in, flopping into the backseat. After a few seconds gasping for air, the car lurches forward, speeding off down the street. 

You manage to sit up after catching your breath. 

“Where are we going?” The car isn’t driving towards LuthorCorp tower. You’d recognize the route. 

“Lex’s apartment,” the driver says in a low voice. 

“No, take me home.” 

The driver turns around and lowers his glasses. “Trust me, if Lex wants you somewhere, you go. That chase back there? That’s just the start. And if I had to guess, there’s going to be people waiting at your apartment too.” 

The driver has never said more than a few words to you, but now every sentence sounds like a warning. 

You sink back into the leather seats. “So that’s it? I don’t even get a say.” 

He doesn't respond. Just faces the road again in silence, merging into traffic seamlessly.

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗ ‗‗ ‗

Lex’s penthouse sits closer to the edge of Metropolis, near the ocean, but still surrounded by other skyscrapers. You’re escorted in by the driver, and the elevator ride up only takes seconds, though it feels like an eternity. 

You brace yourself to be in the CEO’s presence again, but when your driver unlocks the front door with a key, it opens up to a dark apartment. 

When you step inside, automatic lights glow on, illuminating the large space. 

It’s more museum than home. Expansive windows that go from the floor to ceiling allow you to see the view of both the dark sea and the twinkling city lights around. There’s not a lot of color, mostly whites, blacks, and grey, but there’s a few accents of green. The floors are so clean that they glisten. You take note of the simple yet ornate kitchen, an expansive dining area, a surprisingly cozy looking sitting room with TV and couches, and a hallway that led to the rest of the place.

The driver doesn’t follow you in. He just stands by the door for a moment, then leaves without a word. 

You make your way down the hallway, moving slowly to not trigger any alarms or something. 

Then you see it. The guest room, the door ajar. 

Against your instincts, you push it open and gasp at the sight. 

The room is perfectly arranged, waiting for you. A rack, already stocked with clothes in your size and styles, with a few pieces similar to the thing you already own and a few that look more luxurious than you’d ever buy yourself, sits at the far side of the room. A vanity is set up with your preferred skincare brands. In the corner on a small table, a coffee maker with the exact beans you buy. 

You stop in your tracks, stomach twisting a little. 

This wasn’t thrown together last minute. No. It’s been waiting for you. He’s been planning this. 

Your chest tightens. You should feel furious, manipulated, terrified. And you do, but under it all, there’s a flicker of relief. 

For the first time in days, maybe even weeks, you’re not listening for footsteps or noises outside your door or looking for shadows following you home. 

You don’t even make it past the bed. Your bag slips from your hand to the floor and you collapse onto the pristine bed. The sheets smell faintly of vanilla and lavender. 

You take a deep breath in and your eyes flutter shut before you can even stop yourself. 

Because for the first time in what feels like forever, you finally sleep. 

CHAPTER 8

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Your family had found out where his location was, and sent you immediately. You made your way through the parking lot before being stopped by a voice. 

“Miss? May I help you?” Said the voice. You spun around fast to find a young man with brown hair. He seemed to be around your age. You thought that he may be one of two things. He was either lost or another vampire that you would have to kill. 

“I’m fine, thanks” You said as you continued forward. You were almost to the door before he jumped in front of you. 

“Miss, I don’t think you should go in there.”

  “Sir, I have a job to do, If you would please move.” 

“As do I, and I truly can not let you though.” 

“Then you will have to make me.” You said as you straightened your back to him, and placed your hand on your stake. 

  “Miss, I can assure you that you would rather not.” He said. The moment he looked away, you took your chance and in one punch knocked him out. 

You felt something was up once you got a better look at him. Yes he could pass as a vampire, but with his mouth slightly open, you could tell there were no fangs. You decided to take him back to your hotel room and get some answers. 

Renfield wakes up, dizzy at first and then he notices the woman holding a crossbow of stakes at his head “Woah! Woah! Miss, I’m not one of them! I swear!”

  “Then who the hell are you?” You ask, not lowering your weapon

“I’m Robert Montague Renfield” He answers. “Please lower your weapon.” “Renfield? The Renfield? That's not possible, you should be over 100 by now.” You said while lowering your weapon some. 

“I promise I’m not lying, why else would I have been there?” He says. You stare at him for a moment. He seems like he is telling the truth. “I’ll prove it, feed me a bug and my eyes will turn yellow.”

“If I feed you one of these and you attack me, I can guarantee that you will be dead within a second. You hear me?” He nods, and you pick up his tin, and feed him one. You watch as his eyes do change to yellow, and he breaks his ropes. 

“See?” He says as he rubs his wrist. 

“Why am I not dead?” You ask as you head to the fridge, leaving him confused.

“I beg your pardon?” He asks, following you, confused.

“You kill anyone that comes for Dracula, so why am I still alive.” You watch as he frowns, as you sip your soda. 

“Please, do not remind me, I hate myself for it.” This shocks you as you stare at him.

“What do you mean, don’t you do it on your own free will?” You ask, sitting down at your table. 

“Of course not.” He says while he sits across from you.

“You mean to tell me that you don’t do this because you want to protect Dracula? You say, offering him a soda as you do. 

“I don’t….not anymore at least, if I could get out, I would, he just won’t let me go.” He says while looking down. 

“Wait, you are bound to him?” You ask. You had always heard the stories of Renfield tearing over vampire hunters to shreds, it just does not make sense to you. 

“Yes, I am. I do want to be but he will not let me leave.” 

“Alright, I will help you, as long as you help me.” You say as you stand from the table. 

“Wait- What do you mean, you will help me?” He asks while standing too. 

“I need to kill your boss. Help me do so, and we both will get what we want.” 

“You would do that for me?” He asked, his eyes full of hope, while making your heart swell. 

“It would be cruel of me not to.”  You say as you smile. 

Over the next few weeks, you and Renfield meet up every day while trying to come up with plans on how to get rid of Dracula. 

You walk into your hotel room the next day waiting for Renfield, only to find Dracula sitting at my table. 

“So this is the woman that plagues Renfields mind?” He says as you put your crossbow of stakes down onto the counter. “Allow me to introduce myself” “I already know who you are.” You say as you say while staying far enough away so you could attack if needed. 

“Then introduce yourself to me, I would love to put a name with the face that he always thinks about” He said, like he was not asking.

“My name is (Y/n) Van Helsing” You said with a smirk. You knew he would know the name. 

“Ugh, are they still making those?” He said while standing, “Why have you Van Helsings never stopped, Do you know how many of your kind I have killed?” 

“Why are you here?” You asked while taking a slight step closer to him. “Are you gonna kill me?” 

“I should, and perhaps I will.” He said, and in a flash he grabbed her neck and pushed her against the wall. “Maybe I will take pity on you? Kill you quicker than your ancestors” 

He is taken aback by the laughter that comes from you next. “Why are you laughing? Is this some kind of joke to you? Losing your life?” 

“You won’t, can’t kill me.” You say in a laugh

“And why is that?” He asked, getting closer to intimidate you. 

“You know why, If you kill me, Renfield will find out, and blame you, and then you will never be able to control him again.” You say as you jerk his hand off of your throat. 

“Stay away from Renfield, are we clear?” He said while making his way for the door, he left before he could hear your answer. 

When Renfield came by later that day to see the marks on your neck from his hand, he was done, and he was ready to get rid of Dracula as fast as he could. 

It was a month later when Renfield and you finally had killed Dracula, you were in your hotel packing up to go home when there was a knock at your door, when you opened the door, you found Renfield standing in front of you.

“I just wanted to see you one last time before you left, Miss Van Helsing” He said with a sad smile on his face. 

“How many more times do I have to tell you to just call me (Y/n)” You said while inviting him in. 

“Would you like some help?” He asked while taking a look around the place, noticing that it had become plain again.

“No thank you, You know I was just starting to get comfortable here in New Orleans.” You say with a sigh. 

Renfield grabs her hand while she is packing “Please don’t go” he says in a small voice. 

“Renfield I-” You look up and his eyes are already looking into yours. 

He leans in and kisses you while he places a hand on your face gently. The kiss is gentle, and nervous, but full of need. When Renfield pulls away he immediately starts apologizing. “I am so sorry-” But before he could finish you pulled him back in, taking the air out of his lungs. 

“You really want me to stay?” you say as you two pull away from each other. 

“Yes,” He says out of breath.

“I will have to think about it” You say to him. Knowing that with your job, you will have to talk to your family about this first. 

Renfield was starting to lose hope that you would return. It had been months since he heard from you last. A knock at his door took him out of his misery, especially when he opened the door to see one special vampire hunter standing there. 

“Surprise” you say while pulling him in for a hug. You had to make some arrangements before you came back, but once you did, your family set you up with your own house in New Orleans for you to move into. 

Renfield hugged you as tight as he could. “I am so happy you came back.” He mumbled into your neck. 

“Well, I came back because I wanted to go out with a certain ex-slave of Draculas, any idea on who that could be?” You said with a smirk, teasing him. 

“I have no idea, Will you tell me more about him?” He said as he pulled away to look at you. 

“I will over dinner, how does that sound?” You say while looking up into his eyes while smiling. 

You'd been trying to pin down sleep for the past half hour, tossing and turning in your bed. Your body was sticking to the bedsheets, your skin shining with a sheen of sweat, yet as soon as you tried to pull up a cover a cold gust of wind promptly made you shiver. So you tried to make every uncomfortable position as comfortable as possible and squeezed your eyes shut, bundled up in a mass of damp blankets.

Suddenly you felt tugging from the opposite side of the bed. You turned your head in bleary confusion to see your boyfriend writhing beside you, murmuring in his sleep. He was entangled in the sheets, clawing at the fabric surrounding him.

"Hey, hey, hey," you called, shaking him frantically. He was unresponsive, jumbled sentences continuing to fall from his mouth as his body suffered a visceral reaction to his nightmare, contorting like a wild animal.

"Robert!" your voice magnified in volume as your panic escalated. His eyes were twitching, the whites poking out from beneath his lids. They slowly fluttered open, containing a mixture of fear and confusion that painted his expression.

"Robert, are you okay?" you whispered.

"Y-yeah. Bad dream," he mumbled. His entire body was trembling.

"It''s alright. It wasn't real, okay? You're safe. And I'm right here."

You pulled him close to you, cradling his head against your chest. You felt his rapid heartbeat pounding against you as he desperately clung to your touch.

"Was it about... you know who?" you murmured into his hair.

"Of course it was," he said softly.

You traced gentle circles on his back, falling into silence as you felt his body come down from the dream.

"Do you want to not sleep together?"

He lifted his eyes to peer up at you. "Yes, please."

"I'm not going anywhere," you reassured him as he pressed himself to your body. He molded himself against your form, closing any hint of a gap that existed between you.

Your family had found out where his location was, and sent you immediately. You made your way through the parking lot before being stopped by a voice. 

“Miss? May I help you?” Said the voice. You spun around fast to find a young man with brown hair. He seemed to be around your age. You thought that he may be one of two things. He was either lost or another vampire that you would have to kill. 

“I’m fine, thanks” You said as you continued forward. You were almost to the door before he jumped in front of you. 

“Miss, I don’t think you should go in there.”

  “Sir, I have a job to do, If you would please move.” 

“As do I, and I truly can not let you though.” 

“Then you will have to make me.” You said as you straightened your back to him, and placed your hand on your stake. 

  “Miss, I can assure you that you would rather not.” He said. The moment he looked away, you took your chance and in one punch knocked him out. 

You felt something was up once you got a better look at him. Yes he could pass as a vampire, but with his mouth slightly open, you could tell there were no fangs. You decided to take him back to your hotel room and get some answers. 

Renfield wakes up, dizzy at first and then he notices the woman holding a crossbow of stakes at his head “Woah! Woah! Miss, I’m not one of them! I swear!”

  “Then who the hell are you?” You ask, not lowering your weapon

“I’m Robert Montague Renfield” He answers. “Please lower your weapon.” “Renfield? The Renfield? That's not possible, you should be over 100 by now.” You said while lowering your weapon some. 

“I promise I’m not lying, why else would I have been there?” He says. You stare at him for a moment. He seems like he is telling the truth. “I’ll prove it, feed me a bug and my eyes will turn yellow.”

“If I feed you one of these and you attack me, I can guarantee that you will be dead within a second. You hear me?” He nods, and you pick up his tin, and feed him one. You watch as his eyes do change to yellow, and he breaks his ropes. 

“See?” He says as he rubs his wrist. 

“Why am I not dead?” You ask as you head to the fridge, leaving him confused.

“I beg your pardon?” He asks, following you, confused.

“You kill anyone that comes for Dracula, so why am I still alive.” You watch as he frowns, as you sip your soda. 

“Please, do not remind me, I hate myself for it.” This shocks you as you stare at him.

“What do you mean, don’t you do it on your own free will?” You ask, sitting down at your table. 

“Of course not.” He says while he sits across from you.

“You mean to tell me that you don’t do this because you want to protect Dracula? You say, offering him a soda as you do. 

“I don’t….not anymore at least, if I could get out, I would, he just won’t let me go.” He says while looking down. 

“Wait, you are bound to him?” You ask. You had always heard the stories of Renfield tearing over vampire hunters to shreds, it just does not make sense to you. 

“Yes, I am. I do want to be but he will not let me leave.” 

“Alright, I will help you, as long as you help me.” You say as you stand from the table. 

“Wait- What do you mean, you will help me?” He asks while standing too. 

“I need to kill your boss. Help me do so, and we both will get what we want.” 

“You would do that for me?” He asked, his eyes full of hope, while making your heart swell. 

“It would be cruel of me not to.”  You say as you smile. 

Over the next few weeks, you and Renfield meet up every day while trying to come up with plans on how to get rid of Dracula. 

You walk into your hotel room the next day waiting for Renfield, only to find Dracula sitting at my table. 

“So this is the woman that plagues Renfields mind?” He says as you put your crossbow of stakes down onto the counter. “Allow me to introduce myself” “I already know who you are.” You say as you say while staying far enough away so you could attack if needed. 

“Then introduce yourself to me, I would love to put a name with the face that he always thinks about” He said, like he was not asking.

“My name is (Y/n) Van Helsing” You said with a smirk. You knew he would know the name. 

“Ugh, are they still making those?” He said while standing, “Why have you Van Helsings never stopped, Do you know how many of your kind I have killed?” 

“Why are you here?” You asked while taking a slight step closer to him. “Are you gonna kill me?” 

“I should, and perhaps I will.” He said, and in a flash he grabbed her neck and pushed her against the wall. “Maybe I will take pity on you? Kill you quicker than your ancestors” 

He is taken aback by the laughter that comes from you next. “Why are you laughing? Is this some kind of joke to you? Losing your life?” 

“You won’t, can’t kill me.” You say in a laugh

“And why is that?” He asked, getting closer to intimidate you. 

“You know why, If you kill me, Renfield will find out, and blame you, and then you will never be able to control him again.” You say as you jerk his hand off of your throat. 

“Stay away from Renfield, are we clear?” He said while making his way for the door, he left before he could hear your answer. 

When Renfield came by later that day to see the marks on your neck from his hand, he was done, and he was ready to get rid of Dracula as fast as he could. 

It was a month later when Renfield and you finally had killed Dracula, you were in your hotel packing up to go home when there was a knock at your door, when you opened the door, you found Renfield standing in front of you.

“I just wanted to see you one last time before you left, Miss Van Helsing” He said with a sad smile on his face. 

“How many more times do I have to tell you to just call me (Y/n)” You said while inviting him in. 

“Would you like some help?” He asked while taking a look around the place, noticing that it had become plain again.

“No thank you, You know I was just starting to get comfortable here in New Orleans.” You say with a sigh. 

Renfield grabs her hand while she is packing “Please don’t go” he says in a small voice. 

“Renfield I-” You look up and his eyes are already looking into yours. 

He leans in and kisses you while he places a hand on your face gently. The kiss is gentle, and nervous, but full of need. When Renfield pulls away he immediately starts apologizing. “I am so sorry-” But before he could finish you pulled him back in, taking the air out of his lungs. 

“You really want me to stay?” you say as you two pull away from each other. 

“Yes,” He says out of breath.

“I will have to think about it” You say to him. Knowing that with your job, you will have to talk to your family about this first. 

Renfield was starting to lose hope that you would return. It had been months since he heard from you last. A knock at his door took him out of his misery, especially when he opened the door to see one special vampire hunter standing there. 

“Surprise” you say while pulling him in for a hug. You had to make some arrangements before you came back, but once you did, your family set you up with your own house in New Orleans for you to move into. 

Renfield hugged you as tight as he could. “I am so happy you came back.” He mumbled into your neck. 

“Well, I came back because I wanted to go out with a certain ex-slave of Draculas, any idea on who that could be?” You said with a smirk, teasing him. 

“I have no idea, Will you tell me more about him?” He said as he pulled away to look at you. 

“I will over dinner, how does that sound?” You say while looking up into his eyes while smiling.