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———————————————————— (enjoy some good ole smut c;)
𝐲𝐨𝐮
the days have blurred together in a haze of late-night coffees, the hum of machinery, and endless trial-and-error. mei and i have practically lived in the lab these past few weeks, working to perfect the suit and arm braces. every day, she tinkers, adjusts, and hypes herself up with that wild enthusiasm she has for all things tech. half the time, i can barely keep up with her, but it's comforting; it keeps me focused on something tangible.
hawks has been hanging around a lot more lately. i catch him watching me sometimes—his eyes soft but conflicted, as if he wants to say something but keeps holding back. the tension builds between us, and i pretend not to notice. i already have too much on my plate to deal with the confusing knot in my chest every time he smiles at me with that cheeky smile. part of me wonders if he's starting to piece things together—the way he lingers, the comments he sometimes makes. maybe he's waiting for the right moment. or maybe, like me, he's not sure if there'll ever be one.
tonight, though, the suit is finally done. mei and i collapse on the lab floor, a pile of exhausted limbs and satisfaction.
"we did it," she breathes, her goggles pushed up, smudges of oil and grease marking her forehead, sweat plastered all over her body. "it's perfect."
i laugh, feeling the weight of the past weeks lift just a little. "yeah, mei. we really did."
she grins, that manic energy of hers still bubbling under the surface, but then her voice softens, becoming more genuine. "thanks for letting me work with you on this, y/n. it's been... nice, you know? more than just the tech. having someone who gets it."
her words catch me off guard. mei's always so focused on the work that moments like this feel rare. i nod, the lump in my throat making it hard to say more than, "yeah, same here."
after a few minutes of shared silence, we pack up, and i head home, exhaustion tugging at my bones. but when i walk into my bedroom, the air feels different—heavy, almost suffocating. and then i see him.
touya.
touya is sitting on the edge of my bed, his face hidden in shadows, his body tense yet fragile. he looks like he's been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. for the first time in a long while, vulnerability is etched into his expression. the mask of the villain slips away, revealing someone who's hurting. someone who's exhausted in every way possible.
"hey, what are you doing here?" my voice comes out softer than i intended—more concerned than accusatory.
he doesn't answer at first, just stares at the floor, the tension in the room thick enough to suffocate us both. finally, he speaks, his voice hoarse. "i'm tired, y/n. so fucking tired."
