The room was covered in the soft shadows of midnight, the moonlight spilling through the thin curtains, casting a silvery glow across the space. The only sound was the gentle rhythm of your breathing as you slept, oblivious to the silent figure that stood in the corner. Black Noir, the quiet but always observant of The Seven, watching over you with a silent intensity. His presence, though usually shrouded in menace, felt oddly protective tonight.

For weeks, you had felt an inexplicable pull towards the masked hero, a sense of safety and warmth in his otherwise intimidating presence. Your encounters with him had been fleeting, marked by his silent nods and the rare, almost imperceptible touches—a brush of his gloved fingers against your arm, a gentle nudge as he guided you out of harm's way. Especially when you accidentally get on Homelander’s nerves.

But tonight was different. Tonight, he lingered longer, his dark eyes tracing the contours of your face, memorising every detail. His heart, hidden beneath layers of armor and unspoken pain, beat a little faster as he watched you sleep, a rare vulnerability softening his gaze beneath the mask.

As a shiver runs through your body and you jump up with a gasp escaping your lips. Your eyes widen as you spot the dark shadow in the corner. It can't be anyone else but him. Quietly on his feet, he approaches your bed, sits down and pulls out his notebook. Slender fingers turn to a particular page which he then holds out to you. 'I wanted to see you' is written in his handwriting.