Chapter Text
A groan escaped your lips, the sun seeping into your room at a level far too high for your poor eyes. Your bones felt so awkward and stiff, like glue was stuck between every hinge of your being.
You squirmed and rolled over in bed, taking a deep breath as you felt your body boot up to start. You had absolutely no recollection of last night, it was like white noise managed to replace every hour you spent in your house yesterday evening.
Your hand moved forward, but stopped at what felt like skin. You instantly shot awake.
“What the fuck!” You shouted loudly, enough to shake the room.
Low and behold, a half naked Adrian Chase was sleeping in your bed. Wearing nothing but his tighty-whities.
You almost vomited at the sight.
This wasn’t normal. This was an unnatural force not to be reckoned with, you had absolutely no recollection of last night and your mind instantly jumped ship to the worst.
Did you really have sex with him? Did he fuck you? Was there the possibility you might have actually enjoyed it? Your stomach drawed into a tight ball and you almost had to run to the toilet to spill out your insides.
You swore you almost felt arousal deep inside you as you imagined the possibility.
Adrian instantly stirred awake the moment he heard you, and as he opened his eyes, a gawky smile was starting to write along his lips.
Your wide-eyed stare matched his half-lidded grin.
He seemed far too blissful for nothing to happen, and now you were seriously starting to consider that you did fuck him. And you knew that if you did, you’d instantly hurl your body off the tallest building in Evergreen.
“Moorrrnninngggg” his voice trailed off, greeting you with an awry but inviting harmony.
You are still, caught at a loss for words and unsure how to respond.
“Did we have sex?” you blurt, and he instantly widens his eyes at your statement.
“God! No! I wish but- you were wayy too drunk” Adrian instantly remarks back, his voice taking on a sleepy note but writhing with excitement.
You feel your shoulders instantly falter with relief, grateful that you hadn’t done anything of that sort.
“But you did kiss me” he interrupts,
“What?!” you blurt out in shock, eyebrows rising to the high-heavens and looking down at him with fear.
“I- I kissed you, for real?” your voice was high, tense, completely aware and disgusted at the autonomy of your body. You really should never drink again. At all.
He just nods, all happy and go-lucky, like he really made it in life.
“Yeah, and it was so hot, but we stopped because you were drunk, but then I said I can drink too, so then we were both drunk, but then we still didn’t end up having sex.” he begins to sit up from bed as he began to ramble, carrying way too much energy considering the sun has only just bid hello to the sky.
You’re still, unsure what the hell else to respond to that.
“Oh. Okay.” you nod, the words don't really betray how you truly felt in this moment. There were no words to explain how you truly felt. Were you thankful that you didn’t have sex? Or was that little parasite deep inside of you almost disappointed that nothing happened?
He looks up at you like you hung the stars, and you definitely notice that ridiculously longing stare. He honestly made you sick, but sick in a way you were beginning to get used to.
The only thing you could recall from last night were the emotions that were a flurry through you. You had half a mind to reckon that something did happen, something far more intimate than physical contact.
“Was I like- normal?” It feels weird and unfamiliar to be talking to him like this, so weirdly casual in a way that didn’t really place right, but was actually incredibly easy to do.
He just shrugs, thinking carefully and scratching some very light stubble along his jaw. “You were really emotional” he responds, and you feel something akin to embarrassment at what he just told you
“But you are always like that so,” he laughs it off, and now your facewas being drawn into a tight frown. Because, you don’t want to always be emotional, you would actually like to hold some composure for once.
“Right..okay..” you drawl off. Now this was weird, and the reality was really kicking in. Because how, in the span of one week did he manage to crawl his way into bed with you, half naked?
These dots weren’t connecting, because you could’ve sworn four days ago you were charging at him with glass and crying for him to leave. So why are you so weirdly content sitting beside him? Why was your emotional system not suddenly being triggered?
You looked down at him with a distant, yet thoughtful look, and for the first time Adrian can recognise a facial expression.
“Are you like, okay? I mean we didn’t fuck, I thought I told you that already” and you roll at your eyes at how passive aggressive he managed to sound, despite the fact that was probably not his main intention.
“Yeah no, I’m fine, you’re not my therapist or whatever” you deflect, your legs moving from beneath you to pull yourself out of bed, feeling a banging headache start to flare up.
“Jesus Christ.. I’ve got a severe headache..” The moment you complained, Adrian instantly shot up from bed and ran to your bathroom.
He charges out with a bottle of Advil in his hand, leaving you dumbfounded and slightly peeved out as he tossed the pills into your hand.
Adrian was panting like he had just ran five miles, breathless and utterly pleased that he was able to do even such a small favour for you. You just take the pills and manage to dry-swallow one to ease the pain, all the while managing an uncomfortable stare at him.
The stare was most likely just a subconscious effort to prove you weren’t secretly charmed by his actions. You hoped to God it was secretly working.
“Are the pills good?” he’s looking at you hopefully, buzzing around the edges as he stared at you wide-eyed and awaiting.
“What? What do you mean good?” you say with a slightly snide tone, he pays no mind.
“Like, do they taste good?” Adrian responds.
There’s an ear-deafening silence.
“They’re pills.”
“So?” he shrugs, not catching onto your point.
Yet again you are torn between wanting to rip him apart or rip yourself apart.
“Okay.. wow, okay” you say in slight disbelief, before deciding now was the right time to walk away from him before you threatened him with violence again.
Adrian did not hesitate to follow you like a puppy into your living room, still clad in underwear far too tight to be appropriate. You caught onto the sound of footsteps behind you, and instantly flinched and turned around at the sound. For a moment, the memory of the alleyway struck you.
What you saw was probably worse than any traumatic memory, something you would probably never be able to come back from.
Chiseled biceps, perfectly cut abs, a disgustingly gorgeous v-line where the waist-band of his underwear wrapped around, and a bulge. Staring directly at you.
You were brazen with the way your eyes trailed down every bit of taut muscle he carried. A hot flush began to creep up your neck, and you thought you were about to be sick again.
Adrian didn’t catch onto the way you blatantly checked him out, with the way you basically played a staring contest with his package spilling out of his underwear. You were almost disgusted at the sight, at the egregious display of muscle he carried. It wasn’t fair for anyone to be that sort of build, not yet fully bulked out but still carrying lean muscle.
You almost fainted, and soon had to catch yourself and trail your gaze back to anywhere else but him. You were not allowing yourself to swoon over some demented and socially-inept man that you had not an ounce of respect for.
But, you’d hate to say how jealous you felt for the past, drunk, version of you that got to run your tongue all over his.
You were in too deep, you had to get out. You paced over to your kitchen and got a glass of water, filling it up to the brim and chugging all of it down.
“I think now is an appropriate time to leave” a string of words that has become your catch-phrase at this point.
He responds back with his usual ‘Wait? What? Really?’, but soon you are trying to push him out of the door, collecting plates of armour and stray weapons from off your floor and juggling them into his hands.
“Yes, you have to go,” it’s almost like speaking to a wall, a huge muscly wall wearing a sore pouty look on his face
“But, we barely got to talk! I wanna talk to you!” He was insistent, but you are equally so, ready to kick him out of your house leaving him wearing only a pair of underwear. To the average passer-byer it would look like any regular, shitty, hookup.
“I don’t.” you bit back, guiding him to your door with a determined hand in front of you, careful not to touch his bare skin. You were sure the sensation would be painfully searing on your palm, far too impossible to ever take back.
“Wait, wait- okay, at least let me change!” he pleads, and you let out a deep sigh. You figured he was at least deserving of this one thing, it would be pretty difficult to explain to your neighbours why a half-naked man was leaving your house carrying Vigilante’s uniform and an entire armoury in his hands.
“Fine!” you scoff out, raising your hands and trailing away from him. He gladly takes this opportunity to pull on his clothes. You don’t miss the way his bulge gets caught on his black pants, instantly parting your gaze to gain some form of composure for your own sake.
The moment he has everything on, including the mask, you are back to pushing him out of your door. He wants to fight back against your persistent movements, absolutely wants to stay back and be within your presence like this. But if there was one thing he did learn from past experience, it was that you wanted him gone.
That was okay, it was only for the time being. He’d be sure to pop in again and give you another visit when you were feeling less grumpy.
“Okay, see you!” you wave, voice laced with irritated sarcasm. Adrian doesn’t catch on, and gives you a giddy wave back to you.
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” his voice is fleeting as he leaves through your front door, definitely a first.
You don’t have enough time to argue back, that you were hoping to god not he wouldn’t come back tomorrow. But knowing him, he was absolutely going to. You just let out a sardonic exhale and slam the door shut on him.
There it was, back again. Peace.
You padded your way back to your room, and crashlanded onto your bed. It was so nice to be there, surrounded by your sheets, your perfume, the smell of your detergent.
But one particular scent invaded your nostrils.
The smell of iron, weird cologne you could swear was SpongeBob branded, and alcohol.
Adrian somehow managed to imprint into your bed, managed to get his scent to stick onto your sheets. No longer did you have reprieve from him, from the safest space in your house. He was truly everywhere.
Slowly, you shuffled to where he was sleeping before, and curiosity piqued. The worst got hold of you, and slowly you pressed your nose against where his back would’ve been. You take a large inhale, closing your eyes shut for a moment. Before, they darted open, and you caught yourself with a shame so incurable you nearly wanted to die.
You flinched back from the spot, and ran a wary hand down your cheek. It was disgustingly intoxicating, you felt this awful pull towards the scent. It was like his pheromones actually managed to trick you into thinking you actually wanted him.
You sat there for a moment, staring wide-eyed at where he slept.
No time passed before you began to frantically untuck the bed-sheet and tried your hardest to roll it into a ball in your arms. You held it as if it was toxic waste. Like, if someone put a Gegier meter on it the tool would have a system overload.
The sheets found a quick home in your laundry, and you instantly put it on the longest spin cycle possible. Anything to get rid of the smell, to get rid of the fact you almost indulged yourself in it.
A large exhale escaped your lips, and you stood there still frantic and shocked at the way your subconscious managed to pull you into him. You needed a distraction, not one like the alcohol you typically indulged yourself in. The one that managed to betray you, and force you to become closer to him.
You needed one that’d create distance, one that would pull his tight grasp away from your already fragile psyche. You managed to redownload a shitty dating app on your phone, and you found yourself swiping on any man that resembled ‘Sex God’ prowess that would help you take your mind off Adrian.
You were swiping for a while, some men were interesting, some weren’t. But soon you settled on a man that had glasses and a cute smile. It was by accident, you swore to yourself. It was nowhere deliberate that the only interesting man seemed to slightly resemble the exact person you were trying to stay away from. But these things happened, it was purely coincidence.
The pair of you texted for a while, joking lightly, asking about any sort of trivial thing. It was bland, sort of fun, but the best part of it was that it was normal. You needed normal, now more than ever.
His name was some bland, generic white name, ‘Tom’. It was perfect, only three letters that would definitely make zero space in your already buzzing mind space. He had simple hobbies, didn’t kill for a living, and for once, there was a pace that you could keep up with.
He suggests going to Fennel Fields a few days later for a casual date, nothing remarkable. But, then you had to tell him that you got banned from there (despite the fact that you weren’t sure if you actually did get banned, you honestly just did not want to see Adrian). He’s amused by this, clearly excited by what seems to him as a ‘raucous’ personality you hold.
Later on, he suggests going to a Mexican restaurant further Downtown, and you accept.
You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t feeling slightly bad for Adrian at this moment. It wasn’t necessarily cheating, and you definitely didn’t owe anything toward that man. But, you thought back to the times he professed his devout love toward you, verbalised his affections, and you felt slight pity toward him.
But then you remembered that your burning hate didn’t really perish, and that this was in all honesty a simple payback for stalking you all those days ago, for frightening you, for murdering people right in front of your very eyes.
As you got ready in front of your bathroom mirror, carefully applying lip-liner and applying your mascara. You continued to repeat your daily mantra since befriending Tom that ‘You didn’t owe Adrian anything’
You were a free woman, you kissed him drunk once, you hated him, and that was that. If Adrian had a problem with it, then it was his problem. Not yours.
You finished applying your make-up, puckering your lips once then twice, before flashing a smile to yourself and deciding that you looked really fucking good tonight.
Since it was only a ‘casual’ date, you didn’t go too flashy nor fancy for the occasion. You wore what was best suitable and most accessible from your closet, but you did make sure to wear a nice pair of underwear that you remembered being missing a few weeks ago. Probably by Adrian’s doing, that sick bastard.
You left the door with your handbag resting on your shoulder, and a comfortable pair of tiny heels on your feet. You did the lock on your door, and walked to your car.
Starting the engine, you drove your merry way to the restaurant, feeling a light pep in your step at the fact you were finally getting some variety in your dating life. Your favourite song played from your phone connected to aux, and you tapped your fingers softly against the steering wheel.
Soon you made it to the venue, noticing Tom waiting patiently outside of the restaurant, phone in hand and leaning against the brick wall. You smile softly to yourself at the way he was poised there, before parking your car and opening your door to greet him.
“Hello!” he says, wearing a radiant smile, you greet him with a matching brightness and wrap your arms around his neck in a polite and friendly hug.
“Hello, it’s good to see you!” you remark, pulling away and patting the front of your outfit down. He tells you the same, makes idle conversation that you somewhat enjoy listening to, and compliments your outfit.
You smile and blush, but.. It feels strangely flat. You ignore the notion and walk into the restaurant with him. You both take a booth and sit opposite sides from one another. He leans forward and presses his elbows on the table.
The way he was composed was interesting to you, like he has confidence, but was still nevertheless humble. And you enjoyed the way his glasses frame his face, you look down at his arms and you notice they have a similar curvature of muscle that you also find interesting.
You pull in closer as you engage with his conversation, and he pulls in too. There was a familiar attraction between the two of you, but you can’t say you necessarily feel a spark. He’s almost like a bland canvas, and you thought you might have enjoyed it, and you definitely are, but it doesn’t feel like enough.
You push down the doubt and continue to talk to him.
Soon the two of you order, and you begin to eat the food the restaurant prepared for the both of you a few minutes later.
“So.. would you like to hear a joke?” he raises his eyebrows at you, an astonishingly charming smile pressing against his features. You let out a bashful and polite laugh,
“Sure, hit me with what you’ve got” you decide to play into whatever banter he was attempting with you, you enjoy it.
“Hmmm.. okay, let’s see..the difference between like and love..” he pauses, and you raise your eyebrows expectantly at him,
“Is spit and swallow!” he lets out a laugh, and your eyebrows just raise further. Okay.. you weren’t aware you were doing it like that. You let out a laugh, absolutely half-assed, but he doesn’t seem to bother.
“Here, here, let me tell you another,” you feel awkward denying his request, so you just gesture for him to continue,
"Why is it that skinny men like fat women?” Oh lord.
“Because they need warmth in winter, and shade in the summer!” He lets out an egregious laugh, possibly cute if it wasn’t for the context. You can’t really bother to laugh as hard as he was, so you just let out a quiet chuckle and instantly busy yourself by spooning some food into your mouth.
“That’s really funny,” you lie, and it’s honestly so obvious. So obvious even Adrian would be able to catch onto it. But Tom doesn’t seem to.
Honestly, these poor jokes seemed to be the only flaw this man carried, and you were grateful that he decided to stop the parade and actually focus on other things other than violating your ears with alleged ‘dark humour’.
You continued to pick and stab at your meal until it was finished, returning back to light chatter and banter and forcing yourself to move on from the disaster his humour was. It almost made you pray for Adrian’s ramblings again.
The two of you finished your meals, and he offered to pay the bill. It was bare minimum, but it was sweet. ‘He was sweet’ you continued to repeat to yourself.
He led you out of the restaurant, holding the door open for you and letting you pass underneath his arm. It was strong, likewise to Adrian’s, but then you cursed at the fact he managed to sneak into your brain again.
You and Tom walked together to the parking lot, standing by your car with small smiles on your face.
“I really liked tonight, and I would like to see you again,” his voice dropped a few octaves, taking on a smooth tone which only signified the latter half of every date. The part where you two can finally fuck and move on.
“I really enjoyed it too,” you chirp, unnaturally so but only noticeable to the people who really knew you.
His lips form a smile, and he nods.
There was a quiet silence, standing within each-others company until he decided, now was the time to get the girl. He pulls you into a kiss, and you don’t resist.
It’s nothing special, just a kiss, lips against lips. He moans slightly, and you decide it was only fair enough to reciprocate. His hands come up to your head, and he pats down some hair. His glasses fold and move against your forehead.
For the sake of deciding you needed some more passion, you pull him in by his shirt, rolling your tongue over his and closing your eyes to try and enjoy as much of the sensation as possible. You know there’s nothing, you can hope he feels it too.
It’s just the same old, same old. His hands roam down your chest, and you let him fondle your breasts as a form of typical foreplay. You don’t know why you feel so bland, like there was something missing.
He was the best you could do, and he was in all honesty a good kisser. You let him have his way for a moment, before you pull and flash your best seductive smile. He falls for it, and soon the two of you are driving in his car to his house.
You knew better not to take him to the place where any moment a masked Adrian could come prancing around your house uninvited.
When you do arrive at his house, there was a shocking amount of personality. There was a solid CD collection, a nice leather couch you wouldn’t mind sleeping in one day, and a few other intricacies you wouldn’t mind looking at further.
He offers a glass of water, then a kiss, and soon the two of you make it into his bedroom.
It was good sex. You told yourself, he was warm, nice to hold, a bit bad at finding your clit, but he had a nice average sized dick that didn’t intimidate you too much. You came, not really an orgasm, but satisfying enough that you felt a slight buzz afterward.
He knocked out fast asleep beside you the moment he pulled out, and you were left beside him with his blanket tucked up to your chin. You smiled softly, closing your eyes and letting an exhale past your lips.
It was nice. You needed this. Would you ever have a full-time relationship with him? Probably not. But you knew if you needed a quickie every so often, you’d most likely call him first.
It helped you take your mind off life, off the incessant chaos that managed to enshroud you everyday. Tom seemed to enjoy himself too, it was almost like a quiet reflection of life. Simple acts of service toward each-other that made the unbearable, bearable.
You turned around to your side and watched him sleep, pressing a finger to his jawline and tracing it for a moment. He had a similar freckle to Adrian’s, however it was just nestled at the curve of his jawline.
You weren’t very pleased at yourself for your subconscious managing to get involved with a more ‘sane’ and bland version of Adrian. It told you too much that you didn’t really want to know.
Slowly, your eyes closed and you too fell asleep.
When the early sun rised, you got out of that house urgently. You had no time for that lovey-dovey talk during breakfast, no time for pancakes and kisses. You hastily put on your clothes and left his house with a quiet ‘click’ of his front door.
Regrettably, you had to walk back to the Mexican restaurant to find your car in the parking lot. You unlocked the vehicle with the key and started your engine for the enduring drive back home.
When you got home you landed on your couch and looked at Tom’s contact on your phone. It felt weird to look at, and you decided that the polite thing to do was lie to him and say you got caught up with an early errand which was why you had to leave early.
He responded with a love heart emoji and a thumbs up emoji, at which you curled your lip and felt slight repulsion at.
That was that, a lazy hook-up, something to replace the wanting you shamefully felt for his doppelgänger in your heart. Just an ordinary joe, regular run of the mill.
Adrian was about to go insane.
He caught you, lipsing with another man with proud posture and the same awry glasses as him. He had followed you the whole night, like how he always does, donning his Vigilante costume and keeping a watchful and admiring eye on you.
Adrian was astonished at the way you moved on, that not even in the span of 24 hours you managed to find another man to sleep with. He felt jealous, no, he felt more, he felt lost. He didn’t even know what he felt most of the time, he understood the detachment he had with his emotions. But this was different, this was rare.
Only you could make him feel like this, make him feel so out of the ordinary and out of the loop.
He glared at the man, at the way his lips folded over yours, not even aware that those same lips managed to touch his, that he was there to love you first! His hands curled into a tight iron fist, incessant panic boiling over at the way his hands managed to massage your breasts before Adrian could ever get the proper chance to.
His red visor was hidden just above the edge of the bush, calculating and perceiving every movement shared between you two. That man’s filthy paws were all over you, so undeserving of you, of your grace and personality.
That man absolutely didn’t know anything about you, not in the way that Adrian knew you. He didn’t see you at your lowest, at your highest. He didn’t see you at all, not eye-to-eye the way that he was with you.
His hands came to grip around his pistol, clenching tightly over the cold material and imagining how utterly blissful a bullet hole between his eyes would look right now.
Adrian almost did shoot him, he swore to God he was so close to doing it. But then he remembered how disappointed you were that you had to throw your clothes out that got stained with blood from the previous criminal, and he didn’t want to impede on you like that ever again.
He watched, and watched, and watched, even as you went into his car and he drove you back to his home. He watched as he invited you to his place, held the door open like some sort of shitty gentleman and provided you a glass that was most likely laced with horse tranquilisers to get you as pliant as possible.
He watched as you undressed, watched how he did, watched his hands, watched your body move and arch to the way he made you feel good.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. That man was taking you away from him, pulling away divinity from him and leaving none to share. Adrian couldn’t understand, why wasn’t it him? Why was he so undeserving of attention, why did this piece of shit douchebag have it given to him on a silver platter?
Adrian fought back a tense groan when he could hear your moans buzzing off the walls of the house. Perfect you were, trying to blend with disgusting vile men who weren’t worthy of you.
He almost stayed there the whole night, he really did. But he had to go, he had to sleep, had to unfortunately leave you two despite his mental protests.
When he got home he was instantly making a game plan, deciding that in the early morning he was going to go back to that man’s house, give him a stern talking to, and make sure that his hands would never find your body ever again,
The sun started to shine by 5AM, and Adrian was already on his way to his home.
By the time he got there, you were already gone, left without a trace. The man was left sleeping in his bed, half-naked and sprawled in his bed-sheets. Adrian navigated the outside premises of the home, and soon he found an open window that would allow him to crawl inside the house.
He landed with a quiet thud, closing the window behind him and trailing to where he assumed Tom’s bedroom would be.
Adrian eventually found him, snoring like a prick and exposing his filthy body to the world. He loomed over him, casting a black shadow over the sleeping figure. He was so clueless, so painfully clueless.
The man began to shift in bed, and before he could let out a confused yelp for mercy, a large bang echoed throughout the room.
The life left his eyes before Adrian, slumping back into bed with blood seeping remorselessly down the bridge of his nose. The wound was gaping, tight with crimson flooding down every curve of his face.
Adrian put his gun back in his holster, watched him intently as he bled out the tight orfice. He held no remorse, no guilt for the limp body and the life torn out from his figure.
As quick as he came in, he came out, humming to himself pleased as he jumped out the window.