{A closed starter for @smart-ass-detective.}
It was fate. It had to be. What else could explain the way they’d come back together like this? He wasn’t in control, no, but that didn’t matter. Not really. Not when it meant she was still by his side. She needed him, she’d all but said so herself. It was a strange feeling to be needed and he had no doubt she loathed every moment they spent together. But spend it together they did and that was all that really mattered.
They stood together in the doorway of a dilapidated apartment, panting to catch their breath. They’d only just escaped from the thing that was hunting them and, surprise surprise, all because the man in purple had told it to stop. He hadn’t been expecting his powers to actually work against something designed to hunt those with powers like theirs, but here they were, safe and sound-- or something like it-- all because he happened to be the thing’s blind spot. Like he said: it was fate.
Taking a deep, gasping breath, he pressed a hand into the stitch in his side where a sharp pain dug into him every time he breathed in. It passed with several exchanges of breath and he could finally stand up straight. Reaching into a backpack slung over his shoulder, he pulled out a crinkling bottle of water, opened it, and pressed it to his lips, drinking about half before extending it toward the dark-haired woman at his side.
“So...” Another ragged breath as he wiped his mouth with his other hand. “Where to next?”
