Short Prompt # 4
TW: Smoking, destruction mention
Supervillain takes in a long drag from their cigarette, letting their shoulders fall as they exhale. They subconsciously kick the air with their feet, perched on the rooftop of a dilapidated house in a lifeless part of town, one even a ghost wasn't expected to grace.
The place may not have been ideal, certainly far from warranting the title of 'pretty', but it was quiet. And for someone who was infamous for their penchant for destruction, the master criminal rather enjoyed peace.
But alas, nothing good seems to last long in this world, and their little break swiftly gets interrupted for the first time in forever. Except the stranger doesn't seem to be looking to intrude, if the careful, measured-out lightness of their steps was any indication.
Hero stood in front of them, arms folded across their chest. The sun seems to illuminate the outline of their features as though they were drawn in golden ink, eyes sparkling. It made them look ever the definition of angelic.
The irony of it was beautifully cruel, in an almost bittersweet way, the kind only the twisted likes of Supervillain could enjoy the taste of.
"Why would the agency send you and not Superhero to placate me? I'm assuming that's what you're here to do." The supervillain said that last part completely devoid of the uncertainty that came with their expression of choice. They flick the ash off their cigarette, fixing their gaze on their vis-á-vis.
The crime-fighter shifts their weight on one foot, seeming to shake a little under the villain's steel-hard stare, somewhat embarrassed by how easily they could read them, like a book thrown open. "Because they said I'm the only one you'd listen to," they shrug.
Supervillain laughs, a musically chilling sound. They blow a teasing ringlet of smoke in Hero's direction, watching in delight as their nemesis scrunches up their face, wafting the smoke away.
"Is lung cancer the next thing on your bucket list?" they question, trying to ease the tension. More for themselves than anyone else.
"Ha," they huff out, more amused than annoyed. They rather enjoy watching the tight line of crime-stopper's shoulders fade as they notice that revelation. Oh, how easily they could affect their emotions, how well they could play those strings. "Well, for once in life, the agency actually did something right."
"So you'd consider listening?" Hero's eyes light up only very slightly, but Supervillain never missed anything. They settle down next to them, trying to swallow down their uneasiness, but counting a little on the criminal's better nature. Brave, little thing.
"I won't make any promises. You know I don't like that kind of commitment. But if you go about things in my idea of the right way. . . then, I could be persuaded." They stand up, only to crush their cigarette underneath their boot, resuming their sitting position once more.
They were going to play this game, the question was whether it was by Hero's rules or their own? Or both mixed together to reach an equilibrium no one would've fathomed was possible?
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