Calen | 1595w | Epilogue

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  My chest pains do not go away after a week like I had hoped. Neither do they go away in a month. Neither do they go away in three months.

  Neither does Lance, though, so I think it's worth it. Annoying chest pains are far better than having to live without him, knowing he's being forced into assassinating innocent people.

  He hasn't completely quit being a Villain, of course. Actually, he's more of a morally gray vigilante now. He's still quite willing to hurt people to get confessions, but afterwards he flies them to the police station and dumps them on the doorstep instead of killing them, which is good enough for me.

  With some help from Lance, I now have a much better relationship with... myself. Before Lance I never had anyone who knew all of me, and was accepting of all of me equally. It was eye opening, especially when he'd quite literally get steaming mad at me for insulting a different part of myself.

  Currently, we're searching for an apartment together. My home and hideout were, in fact, trashed and raided like the man that kidnapped me said they were. His group hasn't shown up in three months, and I have a sneaking suspicion Lance has something to do with it. Not that I'm complaining, I'm sure they got what they deserved. Look at me, condoning murder. Lance must be rubbing off on me more than I thought.

  I think the realtor must recognize Lance from when his face was on the news a few weeks ago, because he seems especially nervous while leading us into the apartment, and seems very eager to leave us to look around on our own.

  It's a penthouse, just like Lance and I agreed we needed. We both fly, of course we need roof access.

  Lance tugs on my hand, leading the way into the kitchen. The apartment is already fully outfitted with furniture and appliances, and Lance seems worryingly giddy as he picks up a hefty cast iron pan, miming swinging it at someone. I think I've been showing him too much Disney.

  I don't try to hold back my grin, which only grows wider when he abandons the pan in favor of grabbing my hand again. "Come on," he murmurs, walking briskly from the kitchen to the living area, where he promptly tackles me to the couch.

  I shriek, trying and failing to hold up his weight, then letting out an indignant huff when I'm pinned to the couch. He lays on his stomach, his cheek resting over my heart and his hands above his head, on my collarbones.

  "Let's tell them we'll buy this apartment and then take a nap," he grumbles. "We've been looking all week, and I already like this one the best."

  I give up on trying to shove him off, instead resting both my hands on his head and threading my fingers into his hair. "Don't be lazy, it was your choice to stay up all night catching that gang," I tease, and he only groans in response.

  He has a point though. We've looked at eight different apartments, only three of which were actual possibilities because they had roof access. And none of them were this nice. Fully furnished, lots of natural light, plenty of space; I could stretch my wings out to full length in this living room.

  We lay on the couch for another five minutes before I tug on his hair and make him follow me around the rest of the apartment. As it turns out, we would have been fine just buying it without looking around, because as far as I'm concerned it's perfect.

***

  We're moved in within the week.

  Lance insists on carrying me the first time we go into it as our own apartment, but it might partly be because I'm in my Kitten form and more clingy than usual.

  He plops onto the couch immediately, resting his chin on my shoulder and looking out the big windows at the nice view of the outer city spreading out before us. I twist off his lap to sit next to him, my legs still thrown over his as I snuggle into his side. Soon I find myself grabbing his hand and bringing it to my heart, where he warms it without comment.

  I like our new apartment, I think Lance and Calen chose well. It occurs to me now that we're alone I can let my cat features show, and a smile spreads across my face. It's certainly convenient being able to hide them when I'm in public, but it's uncomfortable and draining. I know it doesn't bother Falcon quite so much, but he prefers to be active and goes outside a lot more than I do, even when he's not being a Hero.

  Lance notices when I cross my tail over my lap, and he tilts his head to look at me with a smile. "How is my Kitten feeling?" He asks gently.

  I smile back, my cheeks feeling a little hot. He still makes me flustered, even now that I'm more confident in myself. "Happy," I whisper, shifting until I'm able to rest my cheek on his shoulder. "What about you?"

  He leans forward and kisses my forehead, then my nose, then finally my lips which are parted to let out a giggle. He smiles against my mouth, then pulls back to rest his cheek on my head. We both look out the window while he thinks about his answer, like he often does when I ask how he's feeling.

  Sometimes I can tell he's remembering the unpleasantness in his past, like the brother he briefly mentioned losing at the hands of the same organization that gave him his powers. Sometimes I can tell he's clinging to the present moment, in the way he stares at me with a muted sort of desperation. I've taken up a hobby of humming, because being able to hear me seems to help him relax.

  Most of the time, his emotions are still hidden from my view. He never lies, but I know he often doesn't tell me the full extent. It's okay, I'm willing to give him time. I'm not always up to talking about my feelings either.

  Now, he sighs before looking at me again. "I don't know. Happy and sad both, I guess," he admits, smiling ruefully.

  I hold his gaze in silence for a while, gauging his expression and how I should react to his admittance. Finally, I lean forward, peck his lips, then stand up and hold out my hands.

  He takes them, letting me pull him to his feet while he lets out an exaggerated groan. I wrinkle my nose at him, making him laugh. "We should go to the roof," I tell him, already tugging him toward the stairwell. "I've never been up there."

  I'm aware Calen has seen the roof a couple times and Falcon once, but I don't have those memories. We're able to somewhat share things now, like general feelings and indistinct images, but it's progress.

  We make it to the roof quickly, and I can see Lance relaxing more and more the longer we're in the fresh air. I make my way to the railing, sniggering at Lance when he stays close to my side with a hand hovering near me, like I won't immediately shift if I fall.

  He gives me the stink eye, but the hand stays. I shuffle closer to him until I'm pressed against his side and his arm is secured firmly around my waist.

  We stand in silence for a long while, staring out at the city, until Lance sees the hint of smoke I've been watching for a few seconds. He makes a regretful noise in the back of his throat, turning to look at me and startling slightly when he sees my ears and tail are gone.

  "I was waiting for you to notice," I snark, stepping away and pulling my hoodie off. "I saw that way before you did."

  He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "You have Falcon eyes, that's hardly fair."

  I roll my eyes right back at him. "And you have fire powers, shouldn't you know when one starts or something?"

  He doesn't reply from where he's already hovering a few feet away from the building, no mask in sight. We both agreed that after people accidentally saw his face after a particularly nasty  gang roundup, we didn't need to bother with the masks. They know who he is, and they know he hangs out with Falcon a lot, and they've obviously seen him walking around with me in my fully human form, so it just didn't seem worth it anymore.

  I stalk towards the railing, slapping his hand away with a huff when he holds it out like I need help. When I look up at him with a glare he's smirking, obviously knowing I would react like that.

  I grumble about how stupid his smug expression looks as I swing myself over the railing, then leap off the side of the apartment building. I let my wings unfurl with a grin, loving the feel of the wind through my feathers and my hair.

  I do a spin, my grin only widening when I see Lance flying beneath me, watching me with a gentle, distracted smile.

  Yeah, I love him. Very, very much.

  My feeling is reflected in his eyes as we fly together, toward the bright glow of our future.

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