You had been part of the Paranormal Liberation Front when you met Keigo. You were one of the most defensive people there, refusing to show any hint of trust or faith in the man. For months, he'd tried getting close and coaxing some information out of you, and you knew exactly what he was doing. Yet somehow, the winged bastard got under your skin and touched every nerve just right, making your defenses and walls crash like a bird into plexi.

It only progressed from there.

Keigo looked up at you as you sat in his lap, your hands holding his face and your thumbs brushing lightly the markings by his eyes. His wings rustled restlessly at the touch, hands rested on your hips, and his fingers gently pressing against the back of them just above where you'd been complaining of pain. Times like these were his favorites, when neither occupations mattered and all that you two focused on was each other.

A villain and a hero, madly in love with one another. The thought was only crazy to those whose judgement was based on misguided beliefs and flawed logic. After all, only heroes with no compass and villains with no goals could stay true enemies for a lifetime.