#im still tryna figure out the ~logistics~ of multi-parters

[raineandsky]

A Date in Exchange

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

The villain turns up on the hero’s doorstep every week as promised after that. They always show up with a bouquet of burning reds and oranges and yellows, each bigger than the last, and the flames always find themselves face down in the hero’s bin.

Each week is something a little different—a movie night, a fancy meal, a game of Cluedo. The villain seems to get more and more disappointed each week. The hero takes enough pictures to appease their parents, and the villain enthusiastically escapes the disgusting cosiness of the hero’s house as soon as it’s over.

“It’s kind of cold, isn’t it?” the hero comments idly. It’s their night of stargazing, as far as their parents know, and the two of them are sitting on the cool grass of the hero’s garden. “Let me go grab a blanket.”

They haul themself to their feet with the dexterity of someone very good at pretending to not be in good shape, leaving the villain to sit on their shared little picnic blanket alone. It’s probably too small for two people, and neither of them are overly enthralled to cram onto the lackluster square—that much is obvious from how the villain contentedly spreads out the moment the hero stands. 

There’s a blanket draped over the sofa in the living room, and the hero grabs it without a thought. They turn back to the garden, fully prepared to step through the patio doors and hog most of its warmth for the rest of the evening, but they pause on the threshold.

The villain is leaning back on their hands, their gaze pointed to the sky overhead. Their lips are moving faintly, though from here the hero can’t hear what they’re saying. The hero’s mother was always so insistent on stringing fairy lights through her garden, and the hero had copied her in their own—they’re turned on tonight, washing the villain in a soft, heavenly glow. They look so serene, their focus fixed to the lights above, lit up like an angel, and the hero can’t help themself.

They raise their phone. They were always proud of the fact that it had such a good camera, and they couldn’t be more thankful for that as they frame their nemesis in its lens. With a hushed click, their phone preserves the moment forever.

They stand in the doorway for another solid minute, just watching; they’re not really sure why. They’ve never really seen the villain experience an emotion beyond violence, they suppose. It’s… a nice change of pace, they tell themself. Nothing more.

Eventually they force their legs to move again, crossing the grass with the blanket in tow. The villain glances up at them, still awash in yellow light, and the hero has to immediately revert to their usual ways to avoid saying wow.

“Are you talking to yourself?” they ask shortly, and the villain snorts.

“Constellations,” they say, as if that’s an answer. They clearly realise it’s not after a moment, adding: “My parents taught me the constellations when I was younger. You can see most of them tonight.”

The hero drops the blanket, landing half on the villain’s lap. They don’t bother to sit as they turn their gaze to the sky. “Big Dipper,” the villain points out, as if the hero can see where they’re pointing, “and the Little Dipper on the left.”

“Your parents astronomers or something?”

The villain smiles a little sadly, though their eyes stay fixed on the view. “They wanted to be. Too bad the agency had other ideas.”

Had. The hero doesn’t think they can do this. “Anyway, it’s late. You should go home.”

“Oh.” The villain glances at the clock on their own phone, and the hero notices the three people on their screensaver. “You finally realised you have all your little romantic pictures and I’ve overstayed my welcome?”

“Exactly,” the hero retorts shortly, and they don’t miss the slight frown their response receives. “Same time next week, [Villain].”

The hero can’t get their nemesis out fast enough. The villain seems to dawdle endlessly, picking their things up as slowly as humanly possible, but eventually the hero manages to slam the door in their face. They open their phone as they lean back against the door as if to keep them out, glancing down at the picture they took just minutes before. Some part of them can’t believe they never saw this before, another part disgusted at the thought. The villain is… pretty. It feels like a crime just to think that.

They glance out the window to the side of the door—the villain has already pulled their hood up, a shadow against the evening, anxious to disappear into the city. Their gait is hurried like they’re fleeing the scene as they hop over one of the neighbour’s fences and vanish.

They turn their phone off with a disheartened sigh, their stare locked onto the bin in the kitchen beyond. It smells so floral, so enticing, and it guides the hero towards it like a lighthouse in the storm. They flick it open, looking down at the carefully tied stems and the splash of vibrance beneath, and after a moment of deliberation fuelled by the overwhelming scent of flowers they pull them back out.

There’s a decorative vase on the kitchen table, and after another hesitant inner turmoil they place the flowers inside, slowly, as if they’ll explode if they rush. They’re stunning—matching the autumnal tiles of the room, matching their own hero’s uniform, matching the villain’s usual fire for life. That’s been lacking recently, only dampening each time they appear on the hero’s doorstep, and they haven’t figured out why.

Not that they care, obviously. The hero doesn’t give a damn about the villain. Their parents might get suspicious if they start looking miserable, is all. They just need to fix it so that their mother doesn’t start crying again. That’s all there is to it.

There’s a picture on the hero’s phone and a bright bouquet of flowers on their table that suggest otherwise, though.

(Next part)

Taglist: @criohfreeze

#writing #creative writing #writing community #writers on tumblr #writblr #heroes and villains #hero x villain #a date in exchange #im still tryna figure out the ~logistics~ of multi-parters #i think 3/4 is a good stopping point based on notes?? #but if yall want more you know where i am #i love to write and i love to people please. tell me you want something and you will get it