He was certain he could catch you this time. Yet…here he was, trapped by the ivy summoned by you. The vines coiled around his arms and legs, keeping him stuck. You were his Poison Ivy.

And he loved it.

“Ivy..your leaves are looking just delightful. Do me a favour, sweet cheeks, and let me go?”

He looked up at you with a smug smirk plastered across his face. Sure, he couldn’t capture you…but he might as well have fun failing to do so.