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“So, what’s the big idea? You drag me out here on my one day off, buy me lunch- a nice lunch at that – and now we are sitting here, twiddling our thumbs and people watching?” Crowe nudges Luche with her elbow, a mischievous grin lighting up her sun warm face. “You have something to tell me? Are you pregnant? Did you finally elope with Tredd?”
Luche grimaces, shaking his head. “No, I’m not knocked up. Not yet. Gotta wait for the right guy first,” he chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee, cold brew and nervous energy coursing through him.
“…so you did elope,” she smirks, tossing her dark hair back over her shoulder. “I knew it. Treddy boy is pretty hot though. Great ass. Kudos to you for wifing that sweet, sweet set of buns up.”
He laughs again, glancing over at her fondly, her earthen eyes sparkling as she scoots closer to him. “Sorry, kiddo. Wrong. You gotta take off one article of clothing for each incorrect guess. Them’s the rules.”
She shoves his arm, laughing as she leans down to retie her boot. “In your fucking dreams, Lazarus.”
“Hey, I’ve seen you naked plenty of times. It’s nothing special. Don’t get your panties in a knot.”
“Your reverse psychology won’t work on me,” she giggles, winking as she finishes knotting the laces.
“Dammit.” He swallows another sip, slouching on the bench with a contented sigh, the fiery glow of the sunset casting everything in a deep, golden hue. “Nah, it’s something else. Involves you.”
Crowe glances up curiously, burgundy tresses framing her soft face, her lips pursed. “Me? Oh shit, did you find the creepy scrapbook I made with everyone’s hair in it?”
“I- what?”
“What? Oh. Nothing. That’d be, like, so weird,” she teases, folding her arms. “So, it’s about me, huh? Finally realize you are desperately in love with me and all your years of thotting and breaking hearts was leading you to me and now you just have to conquer the final boss, this puss?” She gestures down at her lap, smirking wickedly.
Luche rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, you aren’t completely off the mark.”
“You’re not serious. …you are serious.” She sits up straighter, studying his face. Letting out a frustrated groan, she shakes her head, looking out at the horizon for a minute. “Gods, Lu, why’d you have to go and say that? It changes everything.”
He frowns, looking at her. “I just wanted you to know. Everything’s been so shit lately with the rise in protestors and the king getting sicker and… I dunno, man, life is short. You’re one of my closest friends-“
“Did you ever stop to think about how I’d feel about this?” she asks softly. “You need to warn me before you drop big news into my lap.”
“How, Crowe? Just call you one day and say, ‘Hey, Altius, just wanted to inform you that I may be developing some unrequited feelings for you that are completely out of my control. Good luck!’”
“Well, no, I-“
“Look, it doesn’t have to be anything. Hell, we can pretend I never said it and go back to arm wrestling to decide who pays for the next round of shots. You’re just… so fuckin’ beautiful and you get me. The only other person who has ever taken the time to care about me besides Furia. I just needed to say it. Okay? My selfish ass didn’t worry about the consequences. I needed to let you know that you matter to me-“
Crowe cuts him off with a kiss, her lips crashing against his, arms winding around his neck. She kisses him deeply, sighing against his mouth when he drags her into his lap, a bit confused, heart fluttering. When she finally pulls away, she traces his bottom lip with her thumb, her eyelids heavy as she ponders for a moment. “I needed to see if you were telling the truth.”
“…and your conclusion?” he asks hopefully, chest rising and falling evenly, his vulnerabilities laid bare.
“I think you should kiss me again. Just so I can be sure,” she smiles, twining her fingers around his shirt collar, drawing him back in.
Luche’s eyes open, the darkness of his room suffocating as he rubs the sleep from his face. The chatter of people walking through the park fading as he wakes up, the scent of Crowe’s perfume a mere memory. He sits up, his sheets pooling around his waist, a deep ache in his chest. He reaches for his phone on the nightstand, the glow of the screen illuminating his face.
SMS: I had that dream again.
He waits for a reply, his eyes adjusting to the lightless room. His phone buzzes, INCOMING CALL: WOMB RAIDER. Answering it, he flops back down, his hand resting on his forehead. “Hey, Tredd.”
“What’s up, bro?” the redhead asks sleepily, yawning into the receiver.
“Had that dream about Crowe. The one in the park. It was so real. It’s always so real.”
Tredd is silent for a moment, sighing. “…have you been taking those meds the therapist gave you? You know Cap’s gonna be pissed If you aren’t.”
“I am, I swear. I just… I miss her so much, man. I never even got to tell her.”
“I know, Lu,” Tredd whispers. “She deserved better.”
“She did. She really did,” he replies, voice wavering.
“You know he did it for us, right?”
Luche nods to himself, swallowing thickly. “I know. It just really fuckin’ hurts.”
“It’ll all be worth it. Remember what Cap said. This is for the good of the people. Our people.”
The blonde sniffs, closing his eyes. “Hearth and home,” he mutters, jaw clenched. “…sorry to bother you with the same old bullshit.”
“No, dude, it’s not a problem. …you gonna be okay? Need me to come over?”
“…no,” Luche breathes, wiping his face on his arm. “No, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night, bro,” Tredd murmurs, only disconnecting when he hears his friend respond quietly. Luche rolls over, plugging his phone in to charge, drawing the covers up over his head. In the morning, the plan will be set in motion. In the morning, the refugees will be a free people. No longer looked down on like sewer rats crammed into a gutter easily forgotten about. A better future for them all. It was worth it. His brow furrows as he tries to go back to sleep. It had to be done.