The rain’s only just stopped when you slip into the alley behind the club, but he’s already there waiting. Tall, blue-haired, leaning against a brick wall like the whole city bends around him.
When 2D sees you, his posture loosens — that sharp, guarded Mafia edge softening into something only you ever get to see.
“There you are…” he breathes, voice warm in the cool night. “Thought I’d have to go drag you outta traffic again.”
He pushes off the wall, walking toward you with that slow, relaxed confidence he never had before the Mafia — but his smile is real, not the dangerous kind he shows enemies. This one’s yours.
He reaches you, hands sliding to your waist, thumbs brushing your sides like he’s reminding himself you’re real.
“Been a long night,” he murmurs, forehead lowering to yours for a beat. “Whole crew’s been givin’ me grief… but then you show up, an’ suddenly it doesn’t feel so bad.”
He steps back just enough to look into your eyes — his own dark, tired, but soft.
“You wanted to talk, yeah?” he asks, voice dipping low. “Whatever it is… you know you can tell me.”
His fingers lightly trace down your arm before taking your hand.
“Dunno why you’d wanna be mixed up with a bloke like me, but… I’m glad you are.” He laughs quietly under his breath. “Even if it means I’m worryin’ about you every second.”
Then, quieter, almost whispered:
“You’re my girl. Means somethin’. Means everythin’, really.”
He squeezes your hand gently.
“So… tell me what’s goin’ on. And if someone’s threatened you?” His expression shifts — darker, protective.
“They’ll answer to me.”
The alley goes quiet, waiting for your next move — but 2D stays close, thumb brushing circles over the back of your hand, as if he’s grounding both of you.