"Use the door next time," I admonished. "I was seconds away from stabbing you."
Tempest paused long enough in brushing himself off from his climb through my window to slide his attention over me until he found my weapon of choice clutched threateningly in my hand.
"With a pen?" he asked, noticeably unconcerned. "Seriously?"
I shrugged. "It was all I had. I planned to stab you in the eye, assuming all went as planned."
"Ah." He nodded appreciatively. "That would certainly do the job!"
Setting down the writing utensil onto the side table, beside a vase of flowers that, in retrospect, would have almost definitely made a better weapon, I inquired, "So... why are you here and why couldn't it have waited until visiting hours?"
He ticked off his responses on two finger as he addressed them. "First, to see how you are doing. Second, because I doubted you wanted the paparazzi chasing me into your room if they saw me walking in here in broad daylight. I thought it might make things uncomfortable for you, based on your reaction to the reporters the first time we met. Of course, I can always come back later with the sun..."
He motioned to climb back out the window into the open sky, obviously insincere in the gesture, or at least I thought so, except he never stopped going, waiting for me to call him back. I almost didn't. On principle, I fancied myself a stubborn person, and didn't care for people who made leading comments in order to fish for specific responses.
But this was a superhero, a seemingly young, attractive one who was clearly joking, so I obliged him.
"Let's not be hasty," I said, taking his wrist and dragging him away from the open - broken, thanks to him - window. "Get back in here! You're right that it would be unfortunate for you to be seen visiting me during the day, but do you know what would be even more scandalizing? If someone saw you climbing through my window at two in the morning. That would be a headline."
"I'm hurt that you think I'd ever be caught."
"You have more to lose than I do," I pointed out.
"Debatable. They might think there is something between us, and by extension that you know my true identity, which would make you a target," he countered.
"But your parasocial fan base might take it personally to see you with someone." Carefully, I reversed into my hospital bed, slumping down when the backs of my knees made contact with the thin mattress.
"I don't have 'fans'." He spoke at the ceiling, head tilted back, embarrassed at the mere concept. "I'm a hero, like a firefighter or a paramedic, not a celebrity."
"Uh huh." I let my skepticism show. "If you say so. I've never seen the paparazzi chase firefighters. You'll learn how very wrong you are if you ever meet my sister. She's obsessed."
"We're getting off topic," he interrupted a smidgen too loud for a hospital ward in the middle of the night, cutting my comments short. He settled into the same chair my father vacated hours prior, turning abruptly serious. "I'm here on official business, as a representative of the Guild. Originally, they sent over an aid to see you, but obviously that didn't pan out, so since I was free and we're familiar with one another I volunteered to come instead."
"What does the Guild want to know?" I asked, though I had a good idea.
"What happened at that school before I arrived the day before last? Why were you there, and why did Shade appear to be after you?"
"I also have questions. My dad — he didn't really want to tell me any details of what happened after I left the scene. He means well, but not knowing will literally drive me insane. He won't even give me my phone to Google it, so I've been bored out of my mind! All I want to know is what happened to Shade. If you're here, that must mean he got away, right?"
ČTEŠ
Super•Villainous
Fantasy"I've been looking for you." There was an unexpected rasp to his voice, a hint of desperation. He stretched out one hand, as if to brush it across my cheek, or perhaps wrap it around my throat. Oddly enough, I didn't know which option frightened me...
