Your Worst Nightmare OxO || RP w/ AltrinceTheAsianBean ^-^

(It's almost 4 am in my timezone, so this may be my last post for a few hours XD)

Zeke felt like he was being torn in half. Part of him wanted to leave, to turn around and flee right now, before it was too late– not from her, but from his own emotions. But some other part of him… didn't. He tried to silence that part, to shut it up, shove it back into whatever dark corner of his mind he could. After all, he didn't have time for this. He didn't have time to contemplate having a sleepover with one his enemies.
Truth be told, he couldn't justify calling her an enemy at this point. Maybe they were supposed to be enemies, but clearly he didn't hate her enough for that, considering the fact that he had saved her twice.
And, well, it was blatant that she didn't consider him an enemy either.
But he was still a villain. Didn't she know he was dangerous? That if anyone else had a say in it, he'd be locked in a major prison somewhere with his powers subdued, surrounded by countless other villains who had been incarcerated over the years.
That was the thing, though. She did know that. And yet… she was still inviting him to stay. And now… what's this about comforting him?
He was bewildered. Confused. Afraid of his emotions.
But– but he didn't need comfort. No. He was perfectly fine on his own. Why would she think he needed comfort, anyway? He'd made it this far just fine, hadn't he?
_{Just admit it boi. You need some comfort.}
He wanted to say no.
He wanted to say yes.
He wanted to walk away.
He wanted to stay.
He was too afraid to stay, but too broken to leave. He found himself unable to do either for several long seconds, until he was feeling awkward from not responding.
"… Comfort me?" he managed finally, trying to sound as controlled as he possibly could, as calm as he could muster– but his mind was a raging storm and his heart a pounding drum. He was far from calm. "Comfort me… from… what?" His voice gave him away a little at the end, revealing only a sliver of the nervousness he felt, wavering only slightly– but more than he ever would've intentionally allowed.

Zeke swallowed, his entire body tensing at her embrace. He couldn't really recall the last time anyone had bothered hugging him, though the amount of affection he'd been shown in his life was scarce to begin with– leaving him bewildered and unsure of how to respond.
What made him uncomfortable about it all was not necessarily her in particular but rather the fact that she was tearing down his defenses and he knew it. So many metaphorical walls that he had built over the years to lock him in, to keep others away, and within a twenty-four hour period some rogue hero girl he hardly knew had begun dismantling them. Even though many of his walls still remained, he knew that, at this rate, they'd never last.
Which was why panic crawled up his spine and his heart thumped more and more rapidly in his chest. He needed to leave. Right then. Before she compromised him. Before he started down a slippery slope and fell into a hole that he could never climb out of.
He looked down at her, swallowed again. Her pleading expression. Her sincerity. How could he leave her like this? The answer was that he couldn't, and he was even more shaken by the realization that maybe he had already started down the aforementioned slippery slope without meaning to.
A war raged in his head. He couldn't afford to think like that– couldn't afford to entertain the thought. It– he dare not think of the strong emotion inside of him in any other term but it yet, for he was too afraid– was like playing with fire. It looked bright and it was warm at first– but he was afraid that he would get burned.
Figuratively speaking, of course.
There was a chance that this was all an act, he reasoned. That this was a trap specifically tailored for him, just to drag him down. She didn't know him. She couldn't truly care about him, could she? But, by golly, if it was a trap, it was working out far too well for Zeke's comfort.
He felt weak. Like maybe his heart was vulnerable. He hated that feeling. But it had to be a little bit vulnerable– at least to her– or else he wouldn't have said, "No. I… won't leave you."
The words betrayed him before he could stop them, but once they were out, he let them be– because it felt impossible for him to walk away. What was he supposed to do now? Hug her in return? No, no– He was too shook for that. He… couldn't. His body was still tense, and, though unintentional, it was obvious that he wasn't used to being embraced. At all.
But none of this meant they were allies. It didn't mean anything. He didn't mean anything by it. He was just… trying to be a decent person. It had nothing to do with her personally– and– and he most certainly didn't care about her or anything like that.
Except that it did mean something. He did mean something. It had everything to do with her personally and he most certainly cared far more than he was ready to admit.

(Zeke: very cold and almost emotionless)
(Lynn: I’m about to end this man’s whole career~ OWO!!!)

(I'M DYING BECAUSE THIS IS ACCURATE XD)
(Also your replies are perfect! I just have a bad tendency to stretch things out like a crazy person. Your replies aren't short. Mine are just hecking long XD)

"No," Zeke admitted slowly. But it wasn't personal. "I don't trust anyone."
That much was true.
And he said this as stoically as he could, because he wasn't fishing for sympathy. He just wanted to make that clear.
One thing he didn't like, however, was the fact that she had said yet– as if he would be trusting her in the future. Probably because he was afraid that might very well be accurate.
"And you shouldn't, either," he added.

Zeke's eyes grew wide and he stiffened up, not reacting for several long seconds, frozen like an animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. He felt like that, anyway. The emotions he was so desperate to suppress were going to hit him like a truck whether he wanted them to or not.
Just like they did here, in this moment. Some part of his brain tried to warn him that this was a bad idea. Like an alarm going off in his head, it told him he needed to get out of there before it was too late.
The other part of his brain realized it was already too late.
His face grew red hot, and his heart was beating so violently that it might as well have exploded, but he managed to relax his tense body slightly. Maybe he even returned the favor as she kissed him. Just a little. Just because it seemed like the right thing to do. Not because he wanted to or anything–
clears throat
But he most certainly didn't pull away.

(I agree. They are suh good. ^〃ω〃^)

Zeke didn't know what to say. He didn't even know why he had allowed himself to do that in the first place. He felt like he'd given in. Maybe he had. And maybe that wasn't such a bad thing? But he was still horrified at the pace everything was going. Last night, they were fighting in a dark alley– he'd had intentions to kill her– and now, a mere twenty-four hours later, they had just–
He blinked a few times. He felt like he was going insane. What was wrong with him? He was falling fast and hard and he had no idea how to stop.
"Okay," was the only reply he could manage to get out, and even that was barely above a whisper. His face was still flushed, his heart still going wild. He allowed her to lead him by the wrist, though, with no objections.
Nothing in the past day had gone as planned. Not even remotely. This morning, he set out to kill her. And now– well, he didn't even know what to think anymore.

Zeke would be lying to say that he wasn't impressed, but as he observed the art– particularly the piece of himself– his already red face grew even warmer, if that were even physically possible at this point. He tried not to act it, but after what had just happened, and seeing the art, and everything else, he was flustered big time.
"Oh– Thanks," he responded sheepishly, his eyes landing on the couch– which was the nearest piece of furniture for sitting– and sat down on the edge, folding his hands together somewhat awkwardly. To be honest, he'd… never really been anyone's guest before, and he wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do. Especially not after their encounter outside. "Nice house." Really? Was that the best he could come up with?
His gaze drifted around the room again, to the various paintings and drawings, and eventually landed on the one of himself again. He didn't comment on it– frankly, he wasn't sure what to say. It was a good piece, no doubt– but he wasn't sure if it's existence made him flustered or flattered or what. Probably both.

"Maybe some water. If you don't mind." Zeke unclasped his hands from one another, though he didn't really know what else to do with them. He rested one on his leg, tapping his fingers against his knee, trying not to feel so uneasy but finding it impossible. Honestly, he was a bit famished, too, but he didn't feel relaxed enough to eat. Plus, he didn't want to impose, even if she had offered.

"Thanks." Zeke nodded in appreciation when she gave him the water, eyeing it closely– more out of habit than actual distrust– before taking a few sips. He'd likely been drugged before, so it was only natural for him to be cautious.
Though, he wasn't prepared to be bombarded with kitties.
"Oh–" He blinked, glancing down at the tiny kitten on his lap and at the white cat next to him. He wasn't really used to cats like this. He was used to the feral kind you find the alleys. Scrawny ones with sunken sides, wild eyes, and bared teeth. The kind that hiss and arch their back at you when you get too close. Scraggly and rejected. The ones who trust no one. He always felt like he related to those cats on an emotional level.
But these cats were far cuter and more gentle than the ones he had previously encountered. A bit fluffier. A bit more… huggable. And the little nervous one– well, Zeke might've related to it on an emotional level, too. Just not as obvious about it.
He hesitated momentarily before running his fingers over the kitten's head and down its back. He smiled faintly. Not only did he not have experience with pet cats, but he didn't have much experience with pets in general. He never really had time to worry about having a pet when he was younger. He was too busy trying to make it through to the next day. "I've never had any pets, but these guys are cute," he commented. As a "villain," he wasn't sure if it was normal for him to talk about the cuteness of kitties, but– come on. They were pretty darn cute. "What are their names?"

Zeke raised his gaze from the cat on his lap to look up at her. He kept a record of everyone who died at his hands. He… thought maybe remembering their names was the least he could do since he was the one who took their lives. But he was justified, as far as he concerned. He thought them to be liars and frauds, the people he slew. Killing innocent people wasn't on his agenda. He might not've been a good person, but he wasn't a serial killer of psychopathic murderer. And the bystanders– well, none of them were ever intentional kills. Always accidents. Always regrets.
But, it was no secret that he'd killed heroes– so the only thing that made him sheepish about answering was the fact that she was a rogue hero and that last night he had literally told her he was going to kill her. Should he apologize for that, or did helping her twice make up for it? He wasn't sure.
"Yes. I remember them all. Six famous heroes. Five slightly less popular ones. Eight that were nearly unheard of." He swallowed, glancing down at the ground. He didn't necessarily regret his actions, but he felt a bit guilty saying it to a hero of sorts that he'd threatened before. "Nineteen total." That wasn't counting bystanders, but again– those were unintentional. "Why do you ask?"

Though his expression remained unchanging, Zeke was speechless for a moment. He could kind of tell that she had a particularly fond view of him, but no one had ever really bothered to care whether or not his intentions were in the right place or not. No one bothered to care about things like the truth about Frostbite– or any of the other false heroes he killed. They only tended to notice the part where Nightmare killed someone carrying the title of "hero."
But apparently Evelyn took note of the other parts of the matter. Apparently she saw his side of things rather than just looking at the whole situation from one angle like most of society chose to.
And not only did she notice, but now she wanted to help him.
"That's all true. I don't kill heroes. I kill frauds," he muttered once she'd finished, though clearly deep in thought. "But… how would you intend to help me?"

As far as Zeke was concerned, Evelyn was a pretty capable force in battle– she did beat him the night before, after all, and he would not soon forget that. On top of that, her strengths were a lot different than his– his being darkness and the cover it offered, while hers were– well, he assumed anything colorful, but he didn't fully know the extent of her abilities, to be honest. He didn't know a lot about most people's abilities, so she could definitely help him with that, too. Point was– her strengths were different than his, meaning that when he was at a loss or in a position where the conditions weren't in his favor, they'd likely be in hers.
But they would discuss this later. They had other problems to worry about. Namely Snowstorm and Inferno.
"If we stay here, I'm sure they'll come inside after us– and if we're going to fight them, it might as well be on our terms," Zeke murmured, his voice barely above a whisper even though they were nowhere close enough to overhear him. Zeke had only encountered Snowstorm once– and that was a couple years ago. They didn't fight much, really, because Zeke was concerned with hunting down a different hero at the time. But he did recall that Snowstorm was a dangerous foe, therefore he'd have to be more careful with him. Inferno– well, he wasn't too dangerous so long as you paid attention and didn't let him get a hold of you. "Maybe this will be a nice test run to see how well we work together," he added quietly, a faint smile tugging at his lips before he pulled his mask back up over his face and secured it in place.

"I didn't know you could absorb the color black, too," Zeke commented in a whisper, though he felt like a dumb idiot for even saying anything about it. She could absorb all colors. Black was a color, after all. He… just hadn't thought about it all that much, really. He vanished into the darkness– not literally, but he was virtually undetectable when there were no lights, because his ability to draw the shadows around himself darkened any visible image of silhouette. Precisely the reason night was his favorite time to fight– or do anything, for that matter. Shadows didn't work well in the day; exposure to light caused them to dissipate, rendering them useless for his purposes. "Let's get rid of your unwanted guests, then, shall we?"

Warren cursed at the darkness. Of course he did. He was bad about using strong language, apparently. If Zeke had more time to taunt the jerk, he'd cram a bar of soap down the guy's throat just out of spite.
But that was beside the point.
Zeke's immediate goal was to take out Snowstorm. Inferno was an oafish brute, to put it gently, and therefore his threat level paled in comparison to Snowstorm as far as Zeke was concerned.
But the darkness– why, that was Zeke's domain. His expertise. His specialty. He was at an advantage as long as that lasted.
He ran onto the balcony, and from there teleported into the sphere of complete darkness. He could see; his eyes were sensitive enough to see in the dark (hence the reason his eyes were also sensitive to sudden bright lights once his had been adjusted to the darkness).
He swung a fist straight for Snowstorm's throat and grabbed his knife in his other hand– readying it for a kill, if necessary. His fist made contact, but then–
He was forced to leap back as Warren– that moron– erupted into flames, probably in a pointless attempt to light up his surroundings. It was likely that he nearly toasted both Zeke and Snowstorm with his incompetence– though both of them were relatively unharmed. "What the heck?!" Warren hissed when his fire failed to cast any light on the darkness.

(me, at 2 AM, when I should be sleeping but instead am very invested in the lives of nonexistent characters and therefore not remotely tired XD send sanity because I have none left)