In a world torn between heroes and villains, it can be a dangerous and hostile place. Some take comfort in the Gifted that stand up against those who would use their powers for greed and chaos. While others choose to hide away, fearful of the day...
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What have I gotten myself into, thought Dominic as he watched his host clean up their lunch with a sway of her hips.
He expected her to ask him about his true identity, about why he had been fighting Shockwave, or what he intended to do now that she's seen him exposed like this.
Then again, he thought to himself, maybe her claim about not knowing who Shockwave was that night wasn't just a snarky comeback. Maybe she really doesn't know who he is or what Fortress even is. Does that mean she also doesn't realize that she's harboring the western United States' most wanted vigilante? Dom shook his head. He might consider himself a vigilante who's doing what's right for society, but that didn't change the fact the public often associated a far more negative V-word with the name Catalyst.
He looked at her, watching her glide through her kitchen as she hummed a tune. She's innocent, he grumbled to himself. Not just innocent, but also completely ignorant.
If she didn't even know who Fortress was, then she wouldn't know who to report him to. In fact, Dominic reasoned, the police from the nearby town might not know his name or his blood drenched track record either. Perhaps his gut response was just that — an instinctual need to protect himself. Maybe he could walk away with her alive and no one the wiser about his personal identity.
However, he had been exposed to her in more ways than one. Despite his initial bewilderment over her line of questioning around his dating experience, physical fitness, and opinions on Netflix and chill, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of pride for the influence his physique had on her.
Against his better judgment, he allowed himself to dwell on the way she bit her lower lip whenever she spied on him through her long, dark lashes. He drank in the curve of her figure, her own body featuring a lean layer of muscle brought on by hard work around her small homestead. He wondered about the silkiness of her hair and how it would feel with his fingers entangled within it.
But then, when their gazes met, and she held him fast in her hypnotic stare, he recalled her intimate knowledge of his body and how detrimental it would be for the both of them if he acted on his desire to get firsthand experience with memorizing every inch of her skin. Even a quick tryst to scratch a mutual itch would be catastrophic. She couldn't get any closer to him. She sat blissfully ignorant of the cliff she teetered upon, and if she moved even a fraction of a hair closer to him, she'd fall straight onto the blade of his knife.
He needed to stop savoring the alluring aura surrounding her and instead focus on ensuring her survival doesn't become a mistake.
"You've asked a lot of questions about me and my life," he said after clearing his throat. "You haven't, however, asked about my suit or what I use it for." He swallowed, aware of the sharp drop his interrogation circled.
"That's cause I don't care," she said with a gruffness in her voice as she handed Dominic a fresh ice pack. He opened up his cozy blanket just long enough to secure the towel wrapped block against his sore ribs. Then he tugged the warm fabric back around him to form a tight woolen cocoon. "If you want to fuck with the Gifted, more power to you, but I don't care to waste any mental space on them."
