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“It’s my turn then.”
As soon as the words leave Dante’s mouth, Lady decides that this entire thing was a really bad idea.
Sure, there are empty beer bottles scattered on top of the coffee table that can take some of the blame, and the glass of wine in her hands may have something to do with the red on her cheeks.There are many factors involved in this bad idea, including a severe case of boredom and a job that ended way too early.
The storm brewing outside isn’t helping the situation at all.Lady knows, however, that this is a problem she brought upon herself. Because of course Dante would suggest a stupid game for them to play to pass the time and of course he’d find a way to stray from cards and pool considering his bad luck with those.
Truth or Dare for Adults, is what he calls it.
Except neither of them are stupid enough to choose dare and no one is spinning any bottle, so they’re basically playing 20 Questions While Drunk and Bored.
“Do your worst,” she says, taking another sip of wine.
“How’d you get that scar?” he asks while gesturing to the scar across the bridge of her nose.
“That’s your worst?” she scoffs.
“Just curious,” shrugging, he offers her a soft smile.
“You’ve never been curious about my other scars.”
“‘Cause I know the story behind most of them.”
“But not this one.”
“Exactly.”
Lady looks down at her lap, then at the glass in her hands, wonders if she’s drunk enough for this conversation. She sighs. “I tripped.”
It’s not a lie.
She did trip while running from her father, scared out of her mind, his hands stained with blood as he chased her around the house.
(Dante doesn’t need to know that.)
There’s a loaded pause in which Dante tries to figure out what kind of reaction he should give her. He ends up frowning and smirking at the same time, the disbelief evident in his eyes.
“You tripped?”
“Yes.”
“All right,” he says, leaning back against the couch. “You tripped.”
He’s not about to press for the truth when it’s obvious she doesn’t want to talk about it.
“My turn?”
Dante nods. “Ask away.”
She bites her bottom lip, stares at the ceiling for a second in an attempt to find some inspiration in the cracks to conjure a really good question, but she can’t think of anything right now.
This game doesn’t work with them, not when they both have secrets that they’re not willing to share.She won’t ask him about his parents; it doesn’t matter how curious she is about his past, she knows how much it pains him to think about that time, to remember what happened to his mother, his brother, his father.
The last thing she wants is to hurt him.
“You know what, let’s try something else.”
“Another game?”
“Not really,” she smiles. “More like…you tell me a secret and then I’ll tell you one.”
At least that way they can choose what to tell each other.
“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine?”
“Kinda like that, yeah.”
“See, that’s all fine and dandy in theory, but I feel like you’re just trying to cheat your way out of our game.”
“Now why would I do that?”
“I know you. I’ll tell you a secret and then yours will be that you’ve never seen The Godfather or some shit.”
She laughs, takes one last sip of her drink and then sets the glass down on the coffee table next to two empty bottles of beer. “You’re the one who’s always cheating in our games.”
“Lies, lies and slander, Lady.”
“Fine,” she holds up her hands. “Promise I won’t cheat.”
“Okay, so…” he smirks. “What kind of secret do you want?”
“A good one, of course.”
“Secrets can be dangerous.”
“Hey, we’re drunk,” and that’s more or less true. It takes a lot to get him drunk, and while she feels pretty relaxed, she’s not even close to being completely inebriated. “We won’t remember this tomorrow, will we?”
“I guess not.”
“You’re stalling.”
“I’m not-”
“You totally are-”
“No, I’m-”
“It’s okay to back out-”
“I don’t want to back out-”
“No, really, I won’t hold it against you-”
“You’re the one who doesn’t want to play-”
“It’s fine, I won’t tell-”
“You calm me down.”
It’s quiet for a moment, just one moment as she lets his confession sink in. Warmth spreads through her body, she looks at him, eyes a bit wide, heart beating a little fast. He’s waiting for her, honesty dripping from his lips.
“What?” she asks, feeling like a silly teenager.
“That’s my secret,” he starts. “You calm me down. And…I mean, it’s not your job to calm me down. But you do. Even when I’m really pissed off, even when you trick me into a job or steal all my money, you calm me down. It is what it is.”
“Dante-”
“Now show me yours, Lady.”
He’s daring her, he’s always daring her, always getting her to admit things she doesn’t want to admit even to herself. He’s a charming bastard, that’s what he is, and she adores him for it.
“I feel safe with you,” she says without missing a beat.
And it gets to him, it does, because his smile is wide, white teeth showing, and he looks at her as if she’s out of this world. Made of stardust, cosmic chaos.
His.
All his.
“That’s a new one,” he’s trying to play it cool and failing miserably. This is the first time the word 'safe’ has been used in association with him and there’s pride hiding somewhere within, pride because he knows what Lady is capable of, knows she’s willing to fight and face anything, knows she can bring a house down if she so chooses, knows just how strong she is.
And she feels safe with him.
“Well, it’s my secret,” she declares.
“It’s a good one.”
“Yeah?”
“A really good one,” he admits.
“I like yours, too.”
The storm outside has settled and their boredom is no longer a problem. But it doesn’t matter, not one bit.
She’s not going anywhere else today.