uno_dahlin
Vera didn't plan on babysitting anyone today. Especially not a dramatic, half-dead stranger who decided her couch was a better place to die than anywhere else. She touched his shoulder and his pain hit her like a jackhammer, his blood practically screamed in her veins, and she didn't even hesitate. "Sit," she said. And, unbelievably, he did.
She always carried what others couldn't: fear, agony, chaos. But this man... stubborn, sharp, impossible... was different. Somehow tied to her in ways she hadn't asked for, yet couldn't ignore. Every groan, every flinch, every ridiculous attempt at defiance drew her in, and she hated how much she wanted him close.
Gotham didn't care who survived. Pain didn't ask permission. And somehow, in the middle of blood, rain, and utter chaos, a fragile, dangerous connection began to form, one neither of them could walk away from.