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Summary
Love - of any kind - was never part of the equation. There were higher-ups and rivalries and violence and death - falling for someone was a ridiculous, indulgent fantasy he visited when everything seemed to be going right. That or when everything was falling apart entirely.
He kind of hated the idea, to be entirely honest. Investing the time and energy to break down someone’s defences, and the vulnerability of having the same done to him was terrifying. Maybe a little exciting, but mostly terrifying. There were hundreds of reasons he could never, ever make that leap, allow himself to stumble.
But it had already happened, as much as Crowbar would wish it away.
It had all started with that stupid goddamn kiss.