"Come on, babe," he mumbled, "I'm tired."
"Aww, poor baby," she mocked, "so sleepy." She reached away from the keyboard, running a hand gently through Matcha's hair.
It had started as only a code name. He was Matcha for his hair, and she was Zion for the street they'd first met on. But now, after so long, and after them starting a real, serious relationship, Matcha felt more like his name than Marcus ever had.
"Come on B.B." Matcha rolled onto his stomach, resting his head against her thigh.
Beatrice laughed. "You're distracting me from my work."
Matcha chuckled. "That's the point, babe." He sat up, shifting and resting his head on her shoulder. "If you can't focus, maybe you'll give up and go to sleep."
"Maybe," Beatrice hummed. "But-"
She stopped suddenly, Matcha able to feel the goosebumps on her skin. She was wearing only a camisole for a top.
"What is it?" He squinted at her screen.
There was another file up, this one a small child that had been born only 7 years ago. She had blonde hair and brown eyes, and a smile that no one could match.
"That's - that's the girl," Beatrice mumbled, "the one that went missing five years ago. Alice Potenza."
"Shit," Matcha mumbled, "I don't see how you remember that."
"Don't you?" She mumbled, "haven't you seen all the stuff about that being why Vix became a hero?"
"I thought he was just some teenager that wanted to change the world."
"Well, yeah, but there's theories." Beatrice returned to toying with his hair absently, "that Alice Potenza is his missing sister. He could be Victor Potenza - public records show that he's got a very similar power. Can make stony skin, you know-"
"You sure have looked into this a lot," Matcha hummed, letting his chin rest on her shoulder. "I think you deserve some rest. We'll look over Solomon's laptop tomorrow, yeah?" He lightly gripped the top of the screen, setting it gently closed.
Beatrice sighed, but eventually set the laptop onto her nightstand. They were enveloped in darkness and relative quiet, aside from the steady hum of the air conditioning a room over.
"I love you," Matcha mumbled after a moment, leaving a kiss on her cheek.
He could see her teeth when she grinned. Beatrice always had the most beautiful smile. "I love you too." She smoothed his hair down.
Matcha could faintly make out the motions of her letting down her hair. It puffed out rather quickly into its natural afro. Matcha wasted no time in reaching up and squishing it. He liked to play with her hair.
Beatrice slid under the sheets, turning so that she and Matcha were face to face. He smiled at her, she smiled at him, then he rolled onto his back and wrapped his arm around her. It was the good life. Really, it was. They were going to bring Solomon down, together, like they'd planned to from the very start.
"Maybe we should invite your sister over for dinner," Matcha suggested. "It might be nice."
"Maybe," Beatrice mumbled, clearly already half asleep. "Mavie's not very social though."
"I know, but I was thinking we could finesse her into bringing her scalloped potatoes. They're always so, so good." Matcha's mouth watered at the thought.
"I still don't understand how you like those things. Texture's too much for me," Beatrice noted, inching closer to him and setting her hand on his chest.
