Damsel[ed] Rescue Required

av

eemed like a good idea at the time. And it was planned, thought throug

, Poison"s on my mind. Gats, Angel, the wringer we"ve been through, but mostly the

deadly flower. I should want Gats. Should want to

even want

s and city streets, scraping away the "Syndicate" graffiti and sweeping up broken glass. No one is out. The capitol building burned yester

issing and snapping over my head. A shadow passes o

good wing through the ba

of a moment, I laugh, because he has to be a hallucination. The past few days have warped my broken brai

ght I"d ought to check it out." He touches my chin and tilts up my head

elting. Without Owl to fight, the thoughts of him consume me. I just want to latch on

nd how"d you even get here? I

. His smirk wavers, and it"s as thin and papery as a mask. "Oh," he says, with a shrug. "He"s bus

my chest and scowl down at his hand. Not that I have a reason to avoid h

rip. "He"s fin

d. My parents are superheroes, and not just any superheroes, either. Nebula a

aughter of

inding me, unless you"ve got a tracker on me, which I guess you might,

." His smirk looks a little more genuine this time, but h

k that other wing, try me. I"m never too tired to tangle, Poison." I pinch

t the darkness. He leans over my head, drumming his fingers on the glass. Bored. He"s even taller than A

at, the way the heat has rushed up into my face. I want to throw my arms around hi

est is tightening. I"m sitting in front of Cupid, with the wings and the love-po

e rainwater drips down my face

I slide my hands back down to my lap. They"re shaking. Poison takes them up in his, and I jolt upright. The pressure behind my eyes

he covers. Sometimes. Is it supposed to work like this? The lead is just doing her thing, tending to her friends, doing her schoolwork, saving the world, when love hits her like a sheath of barbed arrows to the heart. "Sn

ven realize I"m doing it. "But you see, I have friends that need me, too. And school. That"s a thing that I keep forgetting exists. Spring break ends like, Monday." Our spring break lasts until the first week of April. "We go to schoo

of my hands to his chest. I"ve gone stiff. Couldn"t move if I tried. So this is how it feels when a train is barreling at you and y

his powers, but it feels genuine. And craving him is like craving, well, poison, pardon my pun, my cheese, and my c

mouth i

. He calls himself "P

isses me, I k

my feet, still pressed against the cold glass window, still kissing, I let him pick me up

ink about last night. I don"t want to think about Gats. I don"t want to think about what he"s done, don"t want to think about Owl, don"t want to remember how it feels to watch som

the rain still pouring and cold, the wind still brisk. I squeeze my arms around his chest and close my eyes,

e. I just want

as no o