A realisation came to you one night.

It was overwhelming, in a way that felt as though you’d just been doused by a bucket of ice-cold water. It was unsolicited—or perhaps, it wasn’t. You often lost yourself in your own head in the quiet evenings, when everything was still.

Despite everything you’ve been through—your previous life of iniquity and the unpleasant feats you’ve had to endeavour—you still somehow found yourself in a place of solace, living the second chance you thought you could never have.

You found people who you could call 'your family'–the Z-Team weren’t perfect, but it was okay, because nobody was to begin with. You all had a turbulent start—conflicting personalities, but there was a collective understanding. It made you realise you weren’t really alone, and that there really was such thing as goodness. That things could be good, and that you could be good, too.

“—Hey.” It was Robert. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?”

You hadn’t realised how spaced out you were—let alone the fact that you’d been crying—until a gentle swipe on your cheek jostled you out of your thoughts.

His gruff voice grounded you to the present. You were brought back to the apartment—your shared apartment, in your shared bedroom, and in his warm embrace. You never thought you’d ever share an intimate space with someone before. You always used to be so guarded, thinking that vulnerability was feeble. Laughable, even.

Then, Robert waltzed into your life out of nowhere, effectively breaking down the barriers you've spent years consolidating.

He wasn’t meant to mean something to you, and yet, he eventually became everything. Your first thought and sight in the wake of each morning, over the past year. Your shoulder to lean and cry on when everything suddenly became too much. Your reason to smile and laugh without restraint, and to live every single day to your fullest. Your driving force to push yourself to become a better person an hero–to be someone who people would look at, and be proud of.

And it absolutely terrified you, because it suddenly meant that you had something–someone to lose, and when that day comes, you knew it was going to hurt you in the most painful way possible. But simultaneously, you still found yourself ironically favouring that thought. That you’d rather have something to hold onto, to lose in the end, than to not have anything at all.

The first kiss was painful—it was uncertain on your behalf, since you thought you didn't deserve it. The first 'I love you' was even harder, because you sought for a reason that made sense, because why?. But then, it came to a certain point where things became easier. It didn't feel as suffocating as it initially was, had it been for Robert's presence and reassurances. Acceptance was still in the works, but you were slowly getting there.

"...Did you want to talk about it?" He then offers you quietly, his hand remaining on your cheek as his eyes raked over your features. He doesn't push or prod—he never did, unless it was necessary. He always waited for you.