#angsty bit

The air is crisp outside tonight. It’s Christmas Eve, in Co-op City, so why wouldn’t it be ? 

You exhale loudly, a little cloud of white smoke escaping your lips. Winter started only a few days ago, and yet you couldn’t wrap your head around stepping foot outside with a coat on. At least you thought of your scarf, and silently thanks yourself for it as you wrap it fiercely on your shoulders. Doing so, your eyes flicker and you notice all the lights out on the countless buildings of the city.

It’s Christmas Eve, and you’re clearly not feeling it this year.

Dots of green, red, yellow lights are shimmering in the heavy mist of the cold downtown air, while few laughters and Christmas chorals are barely distinguishable with the loud car noises, all of it covered with a thick layer of dirty snow all around the city. 

Your hands grip the balcony railing, fingers numbing in contact of the cold metal of the railing’s upper part. Your mind freezes a bit, strangely appreciating the new sensation at your fingertips. Even with the windows closed behind you, the faint giggles and echoes of your friends’ voices are feebly perceptible. A light melody, coming from the upstairs neighbor’s vent, is softly reverberating on the emergencies’ stairs' cage. Funny, how such a distant sound, mingling in with all the noises around, felt comforting. 

You’d went out to breath out a bit, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the circumstances of your situation. The bizarre sentiment of being out of place for a brief instant, bumping into you at unexpected times.

And as you breath in, the thick air of this wretched city you loved to hate coats your lungs, while you let your thoughts drift. Oddly enough, not being with your family this year for the holidays made you feel lightheaded. You’d fake having too much work and pressure on your shoulders, half lying to yourself to not have to face their concerned and disappointed looks, but deep down it was the hard truth. Your boss was making you follow a strict agenda, and it was more tiresome and wearing than you’d ever admit it.

Few knew about this, and even if sharing such a usual warm event with your friends in the city helped with the stress messing with your head, you were always keeping much of it to yourself. You felt more than lucky when Hilary and her boyfriend suggested you to join their party, to be fair it was way more cheerful and entertaining than staring at the outside world from your bay window all night long, all alone in your apartment ; yet, something ached in your heart.

The contemplation of it pained a bit too much in your chest.

Lately you’d been closer with one of your coworkers, and you hadn’t felt this proximity with someone in a long time. Coworker was a strange way to call him, as he was a massive super-star hitman. But the both of you were working to the accounts of the same man, infamous Dan Killian.

As you think of him, this unusual coworker, who was always wearing sunglasses even indoors, you’d wondered how this moment could have been different, if he had been here.

You frown at the idea.

Were you supposed to ask yourself this ?

Who were you to ask yourself such questions, were you really that close to him ? He, who was so closeted to everything, and everyone, keeping all at one arm’s length even when responding gently to any member of the film crew ? He, who could penetrate anyone with his strong blue eyes, ferociously looking as if he was marking you as his next hunt ?

You take a moment to ponder on your assumptions. Yet, wasn’t he always there when troubles found you, when Killian wanted to lash out his frustration on someone, or when you tripped and almost lied your whole on the hard glassy floor of the main TV set ?

The feelings in your chest wanted to burst in the open, and at this time you questioned yourself if you were shaking due to the realization happening inside of you, or the bloody cold christmas night.

Your shoulders tensed by themselves. 

And near you, someone noticed.

Hiding, perhaps more lurking, in the gloaming area of the place where you stood, in the darkness of the illusion of escape where the emergency stairs were, someone was watching you.

You were too deep in thoughts to hear the indistinct sound of metal clinging, the heavy boots climbing old structures who nevertheless whistled in the evening. To notice the way the air shifted, and smell the new alluring scent of gunpowder appearing in the twilight.

Too absorbed in your head, to feel the intense look of a masked face, tall and imposing figure, observing you in the impromptu moment of the night.

A pair of iced eyes, grey orbs reflecting hushed storms lingering in them, eyeing your form. The way the cold piercing your body obligated you to stand and shake in certain ways, your hands trying to shield you from the chilly wind, your hair ruffled by the hard breeze from being high on a building.

His eyes lingered maybe a bit too much, to be indifferent of you. He often stayed perhaps a bit too close whenever you were near. Leaned possibly much more into your space, than he’d be supposed to.

Tumultuous emotions were battling, dueling with one another, in his body. Sentiments he never thought could one day resurface at the sight of someone else, making themselves be felt a little too much. 

For him too, this season was a heavy battlefield on his heart. One he often pushed down, deep and down in what felt like a pitt in his chest, in the stead of his heart. It has been many years. He didn’t allowed himself to feel such particular emotions, not even this intense toward someone. But it was like all this hard years of training, restraining of himself, crushed into a dead end and failed miserably when he met you. That when you arrived on set for the first time, feeling quite out of place but putting yourself together unexpectedly, it stirred something in him. Oh it was hard to impress him, and at first you were kinda annoying, but you learned quickly to do your job, and be efficient at it. When Killian started to get too carried away, making you uncomfortable, he didn’t wanted to let it slip. Not that you couldn’t help yourself, but sometimes it also meant to risk your career in this field. He saw your potential, and as time flown, you’d become a habit to one another. You both mingled together often due to Killian, and a quiet bond formed, 

The wind hushes his thoughts, and rustles between the long parts of his reinforced leather coat, buttons tingling against his belt. 

Your ears catches the strange sound, and you feel something stirring close. Worried, kinda startled as well, you turn your head and let your gaze enter the shadows of the balcony. Hesitant, you step out of your stance, but your body is stiff due to the cold and the absence of movement you’ve had the last few minutes. You waddle towards the conspicuous sound, entering the darkness, stepping on fresh snow. 

Yet nothing could have you prepared for the sight you’d be presented with. As shock creeps into you, your whole body tingles, surprise injecting itself your veins. You’re about to make a sound, and the man lurking in the shadows closes the distance between you and put a large, gloved hand on your mouth, as his other hand reach for your side. He shushes you.

Blinking, you discern slowly his form, and a weight takes off your chest. You take in the imposing form, challenging stance. A part of you urges you to run out of danger. But because it’s him, you don’t listen to it. Plus, he's much warmer than you right now.

Faster than you could have imagined, you recognize the severe look behind the tinted glasses of your obscure source of surprise.

McCone.

Chief, Evan McCone, and favorite super-star employee of your boss. 

And lately, the bane of your emotions.

The man lets go of you when he’s sure your panic falters, and your breathing quickens as if to regain consciousness after an event-that-shouldn’t-be-that-much-traumatizing-but-was-nevertheless. 

« What the fuck are you doing out there ? » you almost scream, as you try to whisper. You’re too shocked to pretend any politeness, and if you weren’t this bewildered by this weird situation, you maybe would have acted way differently. 

Yet in this turmoils of surprise, you perceive in yourself, that his presence, and oddly closeness, sends a flush warmth in your whole body, and by the outside temperature it feels kinda nice. 

You wait a bit, excepting an all made up answer from him, but you’re almost sure you’ve seen a rapid flash of hesitation in his eyes as he glances down at you.

« I was just passing by », is the excuse you hear from his lips. The tone of his voice, or maybe the brusk blow of wind which passed thought the air, makes you shiver. He steps closer, shielding you from it.

You scoff at his answer, making a sound.

« Why is it that you’re, somehow, always following me ? »

Evan lifts up his chin, his demeanor becoming more dominant towards you « Well as far as I can recall, you always end up in situations where you could need saving. » The answer is cold, maybe colder than what he expected to be.

You glare at him, unsure. « What makes you think I needed saving this time ? »

A moment passes, and you quiver due to the icy air creeping in your clothes. His eyes never leave yours, and you're trying your best to hold up his intense gaze.

A plane flies above you, and his attention shifts to it, as if escaping your mixed look of disdain towards his actions.

« My intuition. » he starts, a bit too proudly for you liking. « Or maybe, you wouldn’t be staying outside freezing your balls off (at this point why bother being so polite to one another) during Christmas eve, at a party with some friends when all the TV crew’s been hearing from you this past week was your usuals Christmas family traditions, which you’re not attending as far as I can tell. » As he says it, Evan turns his head to you, an accusation look in his eyes. A fraction of worry flashes too, but he isn’t ready to share the vulnerability. 

« Touché », you mumble, as his answer, a jab for your feelings, goes straight in your heart.

Something lingers in the air, and the tension shifts. You feel the tip of your ears reddening, and look away. It probably was shame, to be exposed so bluntly, but a part of you noticed that he remembered.

You sniff, your nose chilled by the breeze. His words were harsh, the hurtful truth in fact, but, strangely, deep down you were happy to have him by your side now, unexpectedly. « But I suppose I can accept your company, anyway it’s not even my home so I can’t even force you to go, thought you’re clearly trespassing. »

« Oh am I ? »

You hum in answer, amused by his nonchalant attitude in the randomness of the meeting he provoked up high on a big apartment building, lost in the middle of the city.

He breathes out loudly at your remark, and you’re sure you can almost see his mask fold at the corner of his mouth. You both turn yourselves to the railing again, and observe the night defiling beneath you, in the tumultuous city, between the skyline of Co-op city.

Your arms are touching, but not a word is shared. The silence is sometimes disturbed by lourd alarms blaring from beneath, rushes of wind, and still the faint melody of the neighbors’ music. But it isn’t heavy, or awkward. It’s comfortable now, as if it’s been waiting to happen one moment or another, always waiting patiently. You indulge in each other’s presence, and the scent of gunpowder, mixed with what you’re sure is his musk sticking to his leather coat and cologne, smells soothing. Weirdly out of place for such strong smells, but your upbringing was already quite odd anyway.

« It still doesn’t explain why you’re up here, you know », you call back.

« I do urban climbing for work »

And even if it’s true, and quite disturbing to ponder on how and why he decided to join you unannounced tonight at your friends’ house, you snort. 

Some minutes passes, and you tighten your scarf. And then, you lean more into his shoulder. Evan lets you. His guards fall down, just a little this time. Doing so, he absentmindedly plays with the hem of your knitted sleeve. Inside him, a storm rages in his ribcage, as he wanted so bad to want to touch you, to hold your hand, his heart pounding in his chest, screaming to himself to cup your face, while telling you that you weren’t alone in any of this. But he wasn’t ready to say it yet. To act on it, but most importantly, to accept it to himself.

Behind you, back of the hard glass of the window, you both hear the people activate in the apartment. Maybe your absence is getting noticed, and what would have been wanted to last an eternity has to come to a quicker end.

Blood flushes to your cheeks, and in a bold move, you dare to take his bigger hand in yours. The world seems to slow down around you, in the dark corner of the balcony where you stand close to one another, and you see a flash of hesitation in his blue iced eyes. 

Was it fear, or something else as well that made both his mind and body stop functioning at the same time ? 

It lasted for a few seconds, but it should never have happened. Quite instantly, he looks away. But he doesn’t push back your hand in his.

You squeeze it, feeling the hard, cold and moist leather in your hand. His heart slows down. His body is now shouting at him to move, to forbid the action, to make it stops. But something, something stronger is retaining him to do so as well. He doesn’t listen. Instead, he squeezes back. Maybe a bit too strong, but his action is noted. 

Warmth blooms again in you.

Maybe one day, this could be more.

One day, the Christmas lights will be lighter in both your chest.

But for tonight, it’s enough. You let go of his hand, its touch still heavy on your skin, as you make it back inside, knowing he’ll disappear in the shadows of the city once more, until you’ll miss his presence again.