“I’m gonna kill them,” Annie says simply.
…
…to her sister's declaration of intending to commit murder, Keisha's only reaction is a shrug and a “Yeah, I'm down.”
Because, why not, right? This is Gotham after all.
—❈—
“No,” I say. “You’re not down. No one is down, because we're not killing anybody.”
Keisha begins to speak, but Annie stops her with a hand on her shoulder.
They glance at each other; an entire conversation happening through eye-contact alone.
Whatever they say, it makes Keisha shrug and step back, and Annie sighs, before she looks at me.
“Look, Eugene, thank you,” she says. “For everything. What you've done for me, for us, it's… thank you.”
“But you're going to go right ahead and do this all the same,” I say, finishing for her.
Annie hesitates, then I watch as her resolve firms. “Yes,” she states.
“So, this is it, then?” I ask. “This is good-bye?”
Annie hesitates again, and, to my surprise, those words actually seem to sadden her.
“I guess it is,” she says, and before I can say anything else, she hugs me.
Her arms wrap around me and she buries her face into my neck as she squeezes me tight.
“I'm glad I met you,” she says.
I squeeze her back; she's warm, and smells divine, and she fits oddly perfectly into my arms.
“I'm glad I met you too,” I say honestly.
The embrace lasts several seconds; the longest I can remember of an embrace from anyone.
When Annie finally let's go, we pull apart and just stare at each other for a moment.
I don't know what my relationship with Annie is, and I don't know what it's going to become in time, but I do know that I don't want to say goodbye to her. Not yet.
And from the look on her face, neither does she.
I sigh. That settles it then.
“Stay here,” I say to Annie, then to Keisha: “Come on. Follow my lead.”
Maybe it's the confidence with which I say it, or the fact that I'm already in motion even as I speak, but Keisha reacts immediately, falling in step with me despite her obvious confusion.
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“Where are you going?” Annie asks and I turn to her.
“To do what I do best,” I reply. “Bullshitting.”
And if there's one thing I know that always helps to have more of when doing the bullshitting, it's charm.
So maybe it's time I turn that way up.
Of the 45 Stat Points I have, I immediately allocate thirty into CHARM, knocking it up to a whooping 45 from its previous 15, then I throw the remaining 15 into CONSTITUTION just to be safe, taking that up from 7 to 22, and my HP from 70 to 220.
As the new points in CHARM take effect, I watch as Annie and Keisha's jaws slacken.
“How do I look?” I ask them, holding back a smile at their expressions.
“Um…” Annie swallows, cheeks tinged pink as her eyes run all up and down my body. “Good,” she says finally.
“Real good,” Keisha adds, staring at me. “So, this is a thing you can do? Just… spontaneously get hotter?”
I shrug. “What can I say? Some of us have all the luck.”
“No shit,” she agrees.
I laugh. “Come on,” I say.
As we approach the arsonists, I ask Keisha softly; “Girlfriend or cousin? Which do you prefer?”
She eyes me. “Which one do you think will work better?” she asks.
“Well, they're an old married couple that's been in love with each other since they were teenagers, so girlfriend definitely,” I say. “But then we'll need to sell being crazy about each other for it to really—”
Keisha intertwines the fingers of her right hand with my left’s, and presses herself into my side.
She gives me a look full of adoration and love, and she smiles big and bright, before kissing me on the cheek.
“Love you, babe,” she says.
I miss a step.
What the fuck!?
“Well, um,” I clear my throat. “Looks like you missed your calling as an actress,” I say.
Keisha laughs, some mischievousness bleeding into her expression for a moment.
Getting in character too, I let myself become receptive to Keisha's body pressed against mine, and I remind myself of all the attractive things about her I've seen in the little time we've known each other; her humour, her fierceness, her affection towards her sister and her sensei, her beauty. I push all of it to the forefront of my mind, hoping to condition myself, even if only temporarily, to look at her with the eyes of a man in love.
I lead Keisha to near where Carter and Susie Whitfield (also known as Kero and Gasoline [and seriously who gave them that name?])stand together, filming and whispering, and when I judge us to be just close enough, I say, a little louder than necessary; “This looks bad.”
“Yeah,” Keisha says, leaning into me. “I hope nobody died.”
“Hi, excuse me,” I call out to the older couple, “do you know what started the fire?”
The man and woman turn to us. It's subtle, but I notice how they immediately note our physical contact.
“Oh, no, dear,” Susie says. “We have no idea. Just stumbled upon the scene while taking a walk.”
Keisha and I make noises of understanding.
“I see,” I say. “Oh, uh, I'm Eugene, by the way. But all my friends call me U.”
“No, they don't,” Keisha says. “No one calls him that.”
I laugh. “And, of course, this wonderful woman who's cramping on my style—” I kiss Keisha on the head. She giggles. “—is Keisha.”
Almost like we planned it, but completely by accident, Keisha and I glance into each other's eyes, and I feel a moment of surprise, visibly reflected in Keisha's gaze, at how… natural it feels.
We smile at each other.
Carter clears his throat.
We turn to see the older couple giving us knowing smiles, and despite myself, and knowing who they are and what they've done, I feel genuinely abashed.
Carter holds out a hand.
“This is my wife, Susie Whitfield,” he says, holding onto her as she leans into him. “I’m Carter.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say, shaking his hand.