There was no need to turn around to know it was him. You could feel it in the pressure of the air, in the way the atmosphere grew heavier, as if gravity itself recognized his presence.

—Late again, Nolan —you remarked with a smirk, wiping the blood off your fist before turning to face him.

Nolan's frown deepened. His eyes burned with that restrained fury he always carried whenever he ran into you.

—I don’t need you interfering in my work he growled, crossing his arms. And I certainly don’t need people comparing us.

Ah, there it was. What truly bothered him. Not that you were here, not that you had stopped the threat before he did, but the fact that, once again, someone had pointed out how similar you both were.

You enjoyed that frustration on his face far too much.

—Not my fault you keep showing up late —you teased, floating up to his level. Maybe you’re getting old, huh?

His jaw tightened, and the vein on his forehead twitched slightly. No, he didn’t like jokes. He didn’t like the idea that someone could match him.

In the blink of an eye, his hand was around your throat, slamming you forcefully against a crumbling building.

—Don’t push me he warned in a low voice, so close you could feel his warm breath against your skin.