@booptheworld
Dame pan y dime tonto, she said to him, face splitting open in a bloody grin when he had found her, and Reaper wasn't sure whether to smother her or embrace her.
Goons still on their trail, the miserable scene illuminated by brightly flashing warning lights and alarm that makes him want to grab his ears or a drink or both, anything to get rid of this fucking migraine.
And Sombra, fucking Sombra, all banged up and nowhere to go, collapsing into giggles that bordered on the hysterical. Clutching her translocator, idly beeping, in one hand, the front of Reaper' s coat in the other, and if he squinted he could see the beginnings of a bruise starting to bloom on her temple.
He picked her up like a princess and for once, she didn't complain. It made him rage. Even back at their own little hiding spot, as she swatted his hands away when he tried to clean her split lip, his stomach squirmed and his fingers trembled as he turned away.
She'd laughed, brushed past him to get to her computer because he imagined her fingers were itching to get to work with this new information. Normally, he'd have let her. This time, he grabbed her by the shoulder and twisted, roughly, towering over her. She looked up, eyes a little dim but no longer fading in and out, and Reaper bared his teeth.
Dame pan y dime tonto, huh?
“Even if it kills you?”
A shrug. “But it didn't, guapo. And I got-”
He kissed her then, rough, all teeth and blood and snarling, and even then he knew she was never going to let him live this down. Not in a million years.
"Don't wait up." A growl, a gust of wind and he was gone; he didn't look back, but some part of him hoped that maybe this time, he would have at least left her a little speechless. That would be the one fucking silver lining to this shitfest of a day.
//
The trail of corpses was noticed, eventually, and cleaned up, but somehow they managed to stay under the radar long enough to return to their day-to-day routine. In as much as they had one, at Talon.
Nothing changed.
Nothing changed, only that in an idle moment, Sombra kissed him. The blood was gone but his mouth tasted like iron regardless, and when she pulled back, the urge to duck away and leave was almost too strong. She tasted like orange juice and he like ashes and he licked his lips, almost confused. Sombra just laughed, booping his nose like she did every day.
“Dame pan y dime tonto, guapo. Let them look, this time”










