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you sat with emre on top of a brick building overlooking the city. he was here for a talon related mission, but he made it known that he was to see you, no matter the consequence.
vendetta didn’t put up much of a fight, having bigger problems to deal with than emre seeing a past lover or whoever, it didn’t matter to her.
emre’s laugh echoed across the rooftops, charming and adorable. each time he smiled at you, your heart would race impossibly faster.
the sunlight caused a glare on the giant red eyeball in his chest, and part of you wondered if that evil AI enjoyed your presence too.
your hand landed over the man’s, intertwining your fingers with his. emre smiled at you sheepishly, a slight blush creeping across his sharp cheekbones.
it’d been years since you saw him and you really missed his warmth. the scarf he wore blew in the wind, he wrapped it around himself tightly to avoid the cold. you weren’t really sure how much of his body was still his own, but you found it cute that he wanted to warm up anyway.
and so, you two stared at the sky, watching the sun set and the moon rise just like the old times. you gave him small updates about your life, what he missed while he was gone. anytime you would tell him about an embarrassing office moment or a funny story, his red eyes would twinkle and stare deeply into yours.
the stars shined bright that night, your fingers laced with one another as you watched the galaxy’s autumnal show.
but then, it was time for him to leave, and god did his heart break when he saw your smile drop. emre felt dizzy with despair, oh how he ached to hold your hand just a little longer.
the man’s eyes burned, resisting any tears that threatened to fall. he never wanted to look weak in front of you. so for what little time he had left, he leaned his head on your shoulder, taking in whatever bits of you his life granted him.
emre would stay up at night remembering the way you smelt, the way your hands squeezed his. he couldn’t deny that not kissing you that night haunted him.
he laid there on his stiff mattress, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about what domestic luxuries he could’ve had. emre thought about what a nice life would look like with you, settling down somewhere small and cozy, far away from the city like he knew you liked. the man was sure the ache in his chest was not that of the man made evil implanted within, but his soul grieving the possibility of normalcy.
and so he wept in the dark of his room, falling asleep soon after. this was usual for him, but the pain was unbearable tonight. then he awoke to another day full of gun fire and wasted time, a deep part of his soul desperate to meet you on that brick building once more.
emre promised to himself that whenever this was over, that he’d see you again, no matter the cost or shape he came back in.