A Family Affair, Desdemona

[connor lesage]

Desdemona Lesage. He knew everything about her, or at least everything that mattered. She was born into a loving household, was given the attention every child desired, and had not been dealt the best hand in life. Her mother had passed away, her father forced her to move, and her brother… Her brother was secret-keeping, guilt-ridden idiot who was trying to make up for years of spite and neglect. And now, Desdemona was part of the single most famous group in all of London. She was one of the Royal Flush, the very same group that her brother had abandoned. He sometimes wondered how she would react if she ever learned of his former occupation, if the truth came out. It would be much better if the woman learned directly from her brother, but the chances of someone else getting a case of loose lips were just too high for Connor Lesage to feel comfortable.

He entered the Ivy wearing one of the few suits he dared to even consider keeping around. He once swore that he would give up the high and fashionable look, but that girl held the power to make him do incredible things. She managed to reach out and get him into the type of place he would normally avoid. When he first received the offer to meet in the restaurant known as the Ivy, Connor wracked his brain. He tried to understand why his sister would want to go anywhere nice with him. It wasn’t like he really needed food to maintain a healthy life and anything he ate was typically cooked to perfection with his own hands, not those of other person he barely knew. Initially he flew to the assumption that something was wrong, that she wanted to create a nice setting to inform him of a mishap. Or maybe she knew and wanted to enjoy the last moments of peace she could have with her brother before asking him why he never told him of his time as the once great hero Burn. God that would be terrible.

Thankfully, by the time he arrived, Connor managed to dispel those problematic thoughts and a slew of additionally disturbing additions. He had narrowed the selection list to either the announcement of a new relationship, which would end on a possibly amusing note, or Desdemona merely proving her odd levels of kindness and merely asking to spend time with Connor for the pure joy of family interaction. He stopped a few feet into the place and glanced over his shoulder. The door slowly closed behind him, successfully trapping him within the restaurant. It would make no sense if he left now. He sighed and shook his head. “This is awkward,” commented the former hero as he turned his head to glance around.

It was beautiful to say the very least, a high end establishment for those who enjoyed that kind of life. He chuckled softly as he thought of his past. This probably would have been a normal location for dinner if he dared to let corruption slide into his life. He wondered if Danny really enjoyed the food there, if Lyanna had dragged her into the seats of the Ivy to the po-… No, he couldn’t think about that. Just the mere mental mention of that woman’s name set him in a bad mood. With a groan, Connor brushed away his previous thoughts and walked forward for a few additional steps. Was his sister here yet? Could she sense him thinking about her?

[desdemona lesage]

Desdemona Lesage hating eating at the Ivy. She felt horribly out of place in the fancy, luxurious establishment. She was almost opposite of the typical patron of the restaurant, in her middle-class mindset and shy demeanor. Unfortunately, Knave needed to be a more public figure. The media was jumping on her secrecy as an incredibly negative trait, and Desdemona had to combat it in the best manner she could manage. The Flush often ate at the Ivy. It was a swanky location, fashionable, and it fit the group’s flamboyant image. Knave rarely was seen at the location, but tonight she would be seen. She could not eat alone, and the thought of dining with one of her teammates was quite unpleasant, so she had called her brother. She knew she would eventually owe him a favor, if she admitted her game, but the truth of the matter is that she hoped to knock out two birds with one stone. She needed to talk to her brother as well. It was becoming a necessity.

Desdemona’s current situation increased in a problematic way. She became more and more tired with every day that she struggled to get to sleep, and the more tired she got, the less in control of her mind she got. She knew this was all linked to her increased openness with her powers, but it was worrying and frightening. Connor always had helped her with her powers before, at least as a support system. She needed his support now, so that she knew she was not once again slipping into insanity. Something was wrong with London, after all; the Westminster student’s body earlier triggered a problem, as did the increasing tide of superhuman hate. She could feel it like a malignancy in her mind. It kept her up at night. She could explain very little of that to Connor, though, as she could not involve him, despite his connection to her, in the affaires of the Flush. He was a civilian. She had to remember that he was a civilian.

Dressed in a champagne colored dress, not floor length, but knee-length, which danced around her form as she moved, Desdemona appeared quite elegant. She might have even been beautiful, but her damaged state prevented such an appearance. She was being worked to her limit, and her fatigue was written on her face and in her hesitant movements. Her light skin was marred with lines and deep under eye circles which ruined the magic of her otherworldly blue eyes, and she moved as if the weight of her own body was impossible to hold. Her hair was down, which was unusual for the girl, and so that it did not swish into her face, she pulled it back with a golden headband. As she entered, the whole crowd occupying the Ivy turned to watch. Knave was here, and she was not expected. Desdemona, faced with the attention of so many people, seemed to shrink, and her large eyes glazed with worry. She willed them to look away, and the crowd began to eat again, as if nothing had ever occurred. She willed too hard, though, because the maitre d' ignored her entrance as well. She stood for a few minutes, before she realized what happened. She hesitated before she stepped forwards, but she finally tapped the man, in a full tuxedo, no less, on the shoulder. She smiled towards him so that he would not find the action too appalling.
”I have a reservation for Knave. I believe the rest of my party is here. I’m running late.”
Desdemona explained, and the man seemed to snap to attention.
“Why yes, Madame, follow me.”
Desdemona attempted to ignore the rather formal title bequeathed to her as she followed behind the bustling man. When she saw Connor, a smile erupted onto her lips, and she waved to him with one of her small hands. She looked excited for the first time since she entered the establishment.

Finally, the man left her alone with her brother, and Desdemona took her seat. She folded the napkin in her lap, and opened her menu before she turned her now radiant, but still sunken, gaze towards her brother.
”If I told you I was pregnant, would you believe me?”
She questioned. Her tone and her expression glowed in a manner to show that the question was a joke. As she waited for a response, Desdemona’s eyes flashed down the menu, and she wondered if ordering coffee for the first course was an acceptable practice. She guessed not. She hoped Connor was doing better than she was. She was simply a mess.

((Sorry this is late! This weekend was way crazier than I imagined!))

[connor lesage]

Aside from the fact that he had chosen to wear a suit, there was nothing eye-catching about Connor’s appearance. His hair was down and relaxed, but that took nothing more than a simple patting down with a hand or two. He had no cufflinks to make his wrists look expensive; his shoes were worn and showed clear signs of use. His shirt was pressed, but only because he enjoyed ironing once every few days. Despite his unique his body was beneath the exterior shell of his skin, Connor looked amazingly dull compared to the crowd that filled the high class establishment. He hoped to find his sister soon. Despite the fact that she would, as per the standard expectation, cast a terrible shadow over him, Connor knew her presence could make him feel comfortable.

He hated the memories that the Ivy brought back to him. They were small in number, but powerful nevertheless. He could remember having to walk through those doors like he owned the place. Anything less was beneath the rising power of the Royal Flush and Lyanna Wilder. He hated having to put on some fake look, something his childhood self would have loved to throw upon his face in an instant. Connor didn’t even need to leave the manor to be happy and satisfied! He would have even gone as far as to cook for the entire Flush if it meant not having to go out and purposely hunt for the cameras and their holders. He groaned as the memories started to stir his body up, creating mass quantities of energy. He could feel his body starting to become restless. Then she arrived, all eyes falling upon her form as she entered.

For a split second, Connor could feel his stomach turn. He never did get over the fact that Desdemona had a special presence that called upon countless eyes. He watched her walk and get attention of a man who worked there. It was at that moment that he stepped forward. She saw him soon after, smiling brightly. He returned her wave with a simple nod and moved closer. Before long the pair was sitting down and Connor felt an overwhelming silence fall upon him. Time froze as his body strained to devour every last bit of excess energy he had just created. This was supposed to be a calming, chat that both of them desperately required. Much had occurred in the past few months, but little had actually been spoken about. He wondered if he would have to ask her bluntly. With some divine intervention, she would probably admit everything without a second thought. However… Connor had his doubts that God would want to give him a hand after the various dreams he had to ripping Lyanna and her mutts to tiny little shreds. God those were beautiful dreams.

The silence broke with Desdemona’s words, time returning to its normal flow as Connor shot a dark look at his sister. He knew she was trying to joke with him, but she knew better than to expect a laugh from him. He had to be blunt, make sure that he didn’t break away from his normal, expected response. “Not a chance. I’d leave and start up a manhunt for the bastard who knocked you up too.” He reached for a menu, knowing that he had would merely ask for a drink or two and not eat a single thing. Connor opened his mouth to continue the joke, but looked carefully at his sister. His hand clutched the menu tightly for a second. She looked horrible.

“What’s wrong. Tell me.” He spoke without a second of hesitation. It came out like an order, a sharp direction from someone whose age only made him more protective of that little girl he failed to help in the past. Connor had been going through some tough moments here and there, but to see Desdemona like that was too much. “And don’t even think of saying nothing.”

[desdemona lesage]

Desdemona watched Connor pick up the menu. She wondered if he would eat. She was famished, because she had spent the whole day attempting to solve Wildcard’s problem, the Flush’s problem, London’s problem of the dead Sidekick. She could not wait to eat. It was strange, all the sudden, that Desdemona felt hungry, because she had not been hungry before this point of time. She often became absorbed in her powers, and when she was in such a state, her physical health was unimportant. The smell of food around Desdemona activated in her a ravishing hunger. She smiled at Connor’s answer. It had been what she expected. He was quite overprotective, really, and sometimes it was incredibly sweet. Even though the sibling’s relationship had once been strained, because of the large age gap and other reasons, they now shared a rather intimate relationship with each other. It was not a perfect relationship, but it was a positive one, and Desdemona needed it. She sipped at the glass of water which had been delivered to her. She was thinking about ordering fish, perhaps grilled, with white asparagus.

Connor’s next words made Desdemona’s heart fall. She blinked, before she turned her gaze away from his. He had their father’s eyes, and it was, in a way, quite upsetting. Her mouth twitched, but her eyes remained distant. She watched the doorway as if she waited for someone to come. She was not, but she needed something to look at away from her brother’s damn eyes.
”Do I look that bad?”
Desdemona questioned, folding her hands in her lap and straightening her body. Being as she saw herself often, Desdemona thought she looked fine when she dressed, admiring herself in the full length mirror on the back of her door. Her question sounded frustrated, almost growling as she sighed.

At first, she was not sure what to tell her brother. She was bound by secrecy to the Flush, and she did not want to worry her Connor. What could she tell him? That she might be losing control of her delicate mind. That she might be breaking down completely? And that she did not know how bad her situation was, only that she was currently a mess. She paused longer, relishing in the silence, before she sighed for a second time.
”I haven’t been able to sleep. I think the more I use my abilities, the less control I have over them, and I am no longer able to shut out all the noise. I don’t know. It’s not that bad.”
She was dealing after all. She was functioning and acting in her duties, after all. She was just tired. Her strain was more than the fatigue, of course; it was the stress of her daily activities on her fragile mental capacity, but Desdemona could not share that. It was information she barely understood.
”But how are you?”
Desdemona questioned. She forced her lips into a weak smile, and turned her gaze back to Connor.

[connor lesage]

Had he not been her brother, Connor probably would have missed it. If he lacked the watchful eye of a paranoid, overprotective mess, Connor would have let Desdemona get away with her problems and happily enjoy the time they were now spending together. But the truth was Connor could not ignore what he believed to be obvious. It was impossible for him to trust his little sister with her own health. The way she looked away from him hurt, perhaps a little more than it should have, but he did not move from his position. He had to know what was happening and who he would have to tear apart in order to make everything better.

He placed his menu back onto the table, now making a mental note that he would in fact be eating that night. He would fuel his body with the help of an outside source. His natural supply of nutrition would be saved and released in a much more physical fashion. He watched her turn her gaze to the door, shifting in his seat to adjust his position of comfort. It was only as she questioned him that Desdemona managed to get Connor’s eyes to shut and break the tenuous stare. She looked beautiful, but he could see through her. It was a power he would never want to give up, the ability to look between the lines in regard to his sister. He hated hurting her though… and did not want to hear her ask such an irritating thing.

As she let her question drop away and answered her brother’s demand, Desdemona slowly and quite unknowingly turned her brother’s attention to something he hoped to completely avoid that night. Suddenly he wished he had said nothing or at least held his piece for a short while. The use of her abilities was something he was always worried about and he knew who she would have to use them for. Lyanna. He did not have to think the name aloud to feel small surges of spite well up in the pit of his stomach.

“Not that bad,” he groaned with a slightly forced chuckle. Connor adjusted himself again, hoping to completely ignore that part and move back to what he knew his sister probably wanted from this. She didn’t ask him to come out so he could become openly perturbed and vengeful. He could act upon his emotions later that night, yet another night he could spend without sleep. He took a breath and placed a hand on his menu. “I’m fine. I still have work and I’m still healthy. Won’t lie, I’m worried about you. I see you all over the place, but it’s not like we get to spend any time like this.”

Connor leaned back in his seat, feeling his lips turn into a smile that had to make Desdemona’s. “Forget I asked anything. You look beautiful.” His voice softened up. And then his little attempt at jest arrived. “Maybe a bit too good for a date with someone like me, but I guess I can overlook that.”

[desdemona lesage]

Seeing Connor pleased Desdemona. He was a comfort to her, even if he worried about her too much. She hoped he realized how important seeing him was to her, and that he behaved accordingly. She did not need protection right now, she needed support, and she needed it badly. Now that she had turned her gaze towards him, Desdemona watched him, studying his face solely because she enjoyed seeing him.
”You shouldn’t worry so much.”
Desdemona wanted to tell him that there was no reason to worry. She wanted to tell him that she was absolutely stupendous and that his worry was his own problem and that it was detrimental to him. Well, she did believe that his worry was negative for him, and that it was useless, but his worry was appropriate. She could not delude herself into believing she was absolutely fine; she was clearly not fine. What could she say about the matter? If she lied to Connor, he would know.

And all the sudden, Desdemona wanted to hear some good news. She wanted to know that at least her brother was doing something normal and pleasant, and that the world was not just a horrible, pleasure-less place. She watched him for a second, smiled slightly, and shrugged her shoulders.
”Damnit, please tell me something pleasant. Like that you’ve had hot passionate sex recently. The more detail, the better, or—or something.”
Desdemona was beginning to lose faith in just about everything, at least in her current mood, which was influenced greatly by the negativity of the minds she had been recently connecting herself to. Even though she spoke with sincerity, Desdemona’s face flushed red. She was still rather juvenile, naïve, sometimes, and although she was entirely serious about her question, but the thought of her brother having sex made Desdemona flustered.

Desdemona’s face reddened more when Connor complimented her. She was not sure why, but it humiliated her in that she always had trouble accepting compliments, even from her own brother. She shook her head as she attempted to quell the redness on her face.
”You know you’re the attractive sibling, so don’t tease.”
Desdemona explained. She turned her attention back to the menu, because now that she had begin to blush, she was embarrassed by that, and could not stop the action. She bit her lip and shook her head as she read down the list. She was very hungry, which only made the choice harder. Everything sounded good.

[connor lesage]

Through it all, Robert could feel the tugging sensation develop. He wanted to have a call pop out of nowhere, get him out of the Ivy. He wanted someone to appear and make things so awkward that Desdemona would have to leave. He needed something to happen! Regardless of the circumstances, he knew how the night would end anyway. The only variable would be whether or not he had eaten by the time he left. It would determine if he had to go home and down a bit of food to conserve energy before flying off to watch Desdemona. Of course, he couldn’t let her in on his little secrets. He couldn’t even afford to think of them. Anything too powerful would probably be picked up by his sister whether she wanted to hear it or not.

“I look like hell,” Connor responded to his sister as he glanced down to his menu. His jest was extremely successful, but he really wished that she hadn’t called him attractive in return. There was once a time when he was in her shoes. Eyes were stuck on him. People waited for the day when he was free from Lyanna and could enter some odd affair with another woman. “Always do until I end up working with some horny client who wants me to make shitty porn with her.” Connor rolled his eyes and looked over to Desdemona. She wanted something to keep her mood healthy and he needed to keep her mind away from his true intentions. The mere mention of porn helped to kill two birds with one stone.

He took a breath and reopened the menu. “And by the way, if I had sex you would have known by now.” He started to flip through pages, find something he knew he would enjoy. If he could fill his mind with the joy of getting something extremely delicious, he knew he would be able to fix up Desdemona’s mind to some extent. And if he could pull that off… Well, he would still go out and watch the Flush. He would just have the satisfaction of knowing she would be a little better off for the evening.

“So do you know what you’re getting? Or are we stuck playing the Lonely, Miserable Hearts club until someone makes a twisted rumor about us?” Yet another jest came up, this time almost out of pure instinct. He wanted her to burst open with something that wasn’t bad. Be it a smile, laughter, or even a level of embarrassment that made her say something perfect for the two of them.

[desdemona lesage]

Desdemona could tell her brother was uncomfortable. She did not need her power to read her brother. Not all the time, and she could read his discomfort from the way he say, from the way he looked. Desdemona felt terrible about dragging him here. As much as she wanted to spend time with him, Desdemona should have picked a better meeting location. She just needed to see him, and that could have occurred any location in the city. She had been selfish when she picked the meeting location, and now, Desdemona felt terrible. She wanted to apologize, but, despite her brother’s unhappiness, Desdemona was not ready to give up on this night yet. She wanted to be with Connor. She needed to be with Connor, if only for a few more hours.

Desdemona shook her head in response to Connor’s comment. She thought he looked fine, great, in fact, but then she was biased. He was her brother, after all, and she cared for him. His comment about porn made Desdemona turn red again. The color leaked into every part of her face, her cheeks, her mouth, and even the tips of her ears. She knew she appeared ridiculous, and that such an intense reaction was not justified, but Desdemona could not control her humiliation. It was a reaction she always had in such situations.
”I swear to God, Connor, if I ever see bad internet porn with you in it, I will be quite traumatized. You don’t want to corrupt your baby sister’s innocence, do you?”
Desdemona questioned. She spoke cheerfully, with a jovial tone of her voice. She was glad that, at least, that the night might improve. She hoped Connor could enjoy himself. She wanted Connor to enjoy himself. She wanted him to enjoy her.

”Oh, Connor, what do you think I do, snoop?”
Desdemona questioned. She pitched her voice so that she sounded mockingly alarmed. She did not snoop on her brother very often, or at least, she tried not to hear his thoughts at all, but sometimes his thoughts slipped through, nudging at her mind, intrusive and unfortunate. She did not want to know what he thought for the most part, not because she did not want to know about him, but rather because she did not want to intrude on his life. It felt like a violation of him if she invaded his mind. Sometimes, if she was thinking about Connor, wondering about him, Desdemona heard his thoughts. They filtered into her mind, tickling her thoughts, and she heard them, but it was rarely intentional.

Desdemona glanced down at her menu. She did not really know what she wanted, but she could figure out something to eat. She was starving, so any food would do her.
”I think I’ll get the pork.”
Desdemona answered with a small shrug of her shoulders. She would order water to drink, with lemon. A horrified and amused expression flashed across Desdemona’s face when Connor spoke.
”Don’t joke; you’ll curse us.”
Desdemona gasped. The media was the bane of the little woman’s existence. Because she avoided the media at all costs, she was one of the most rumored about Flush members, and the rumors were always terribly far from the truth.
”The press has already hooked me up with every eligible candidate on the Flush, and that includes Wildcard, for Christ’s sake. Don’t give them any ideas?”
Desdemona explained. She was joking, clearly, however, because she could not imagine anyone receiving the wrong idea about her and Connor. She grinned at him from over the top of her menu.

[connor lesage]

Connor sat back. His left hand started to toy with the menu’s pages while his right slid away from its laminated surface. His eyes watched Desdemona carefully. He wondered if they betrayed his true feelings. Seeing her become embarrassed filled Connor with joy and a grin was now planted upon his face. Hearing the jovial tone of her voice made the outward air much lighter, but there was that constant possibility that she would see something special in him. As easy as it was for him to hide his thoughts, it was for Desdemona to catch onto the subtle things that even the former Flush member could not hide. It was the double edged sword that came with developing a close sibling relationship. Secrets were dangerous, necessary, and incredibly hard to keep. One false step could easily lead to a path neither one of them wanted to tread, especially alone.

He continued to play with the menu as Desdemona asked her teasing question. The honest answer was a simple no. He knew he could trust Desdemona to not enter his mind in such a fashion. It was for the best to keep it that way as well. His thoughts were not something he ever wished to share. Sleepless nights gave him far too much to contemplate. His years of hatred gave him desires most would not consider humane. If she looked into his memories, Desdemona would see his brutality as a hero. She would discover his darkest secrets. And, worst of all, she would learn that every moment he spent with her required him to dance around an enormous issue that he found it difficult to ignore.

Sometimes he had terrible dreams of what would happen if she learned the truth. Connor was supposed to be someone who watched his sister and made sure everything was okay. He once lied to keep her safe, to follow the most logical rule of all. He limited talk of his actions to avoid getting her involved. It was the same thing she did. But he let the fame tear him apart. He was the lover of Lyanna, knew what went on behind the scenes of the Royal Flush’s actions, and let Desdemona get into that world. He could have stepped in… but never even considered action until it was too late. She was one of them. Sometimes he tried to sleep, only to spring awake as he pictured Desdemona as Lyanna’s close protégé. He imagined having to hate and stand against her. He saw her losing herself and then her mind.

It was like a poison. And seeing Desdemona acting so happy in his presence made Connor all the more ready to say something. He could feel his heart beating faster now. “I guess I won’t be getting the same thing as you then,” he stated calmly. The mere mention of the Flush, namely Wildcard, brought back the burn of that terrible venom. He glanced down at the menu. His flipping of pages had stopped. His hand had died without his noticing, leaving him to look at dishes that including chicken and soups. This was not what he needed. He could pass off his emotions as overprotective nature, but the knowledge that he was lying was something he could never get used to.

“Why don’t we not mention those guys tonight, okay?” He knew he was being defensive and selfish now. “They’re just overworking you anyway. Don’t need any of that stress tonight.” He wanted to shout out to some waiter to get the attention away from the words that were spilling out of his mouth. “I’m sure you got me here to get away from it too.” He seemed to be talking to himself at that point. His eyes were glued to the laminated pages, trying to focus on food rather than the people he hated. “God, I need some wine or something…”

[desdemona lesage]

Desdemona watched her brother’s mood shift. He had been just as light hearted as she, and then, he became quite upset. Desdemona watched the change in a confused manner. Her face twisted into a concerned grimace before she removed the expression from her face. Connor did not take well to concern and sympathy, which was odd, since he was so overbearing. What worried Desdemona was that she could not find the trigger for the change. Had she said something? She had just made a rather pathetic joke? Did thinking about her in a relationship upset him that much, despite the false nature of the claim? It had been so long since Desdemona had been in a relationship, so she could not remember how her brother had acted in the past, and besides, she had been joking about false claims. Desdemona watched him with a mixture of confusion and concern wrapped across her face. She dropped her gaze to his hand, flipping through the menu.
”You can get whatever you want. I’m paying anyway.”
Or rather, the Flush was paying. The meal would not matter for Desdemona in any manner. In fact, it would not even bother the Flush, who had copious and obsessive amounts of money. It was materialistic, Desdemona acknowledged, but somewhat useful.

The mention of the Flush aggravated Connor, Desdemona realized, though she could determine a reason. She knew he was overprotective, but she had not realized it was that bad. Desdemona shrugged her shoulders. This—this was their night. She would do whatever she could to make sure he was pleased.
”If you wish not, then we don’t have to talk about them.”
Desdemona replied with a small shrug of her shoulders. If he wanted to keep it about them that was fine, but unfortunately, the Flush now, the Flush was so closely tied to who Desdemona was now. Desdemona was Knave. Knave was Desdemona. And no matter how hard the girl attempt to separate her two identities they continued to merge. She wanted to be Desdemona, but she was becoming Knave.

Even though she promised she would not talk about the Flush, Desdemona could not let his comment slide. His mindset would just breed more resentment, and she needed his support.
”The whole team is overworked, it’s not like I’m the only person who is doing the work I’m just the weakest--the one who is having the most trouble.
Desdemona shook her head to ensure that she would not mention the team for the rest of the night.
”And you can drink, you know.”
Desdemona added with a shrug. She understood that drinking with her was sometimes awkward, because she could not drink herself. She had grown used to informing other people that she did not mind if people drank around her. She never felt like she was missing out, as she did not want to drink. It was a horrible and unpleasant experience for her. She was stick with water.

[connor lesage]

Questions started to form. Connor could feel them starting up and he prayed to God that the telepath lass would fail to pick up anything he could not control. It had never been this bad before. The Flush had always been a constant cloud over their conversations, but there was something about Knave’s state of mind that was really setting Connor’s mind ablaze. She had even stated that she was having issues with control and he knew exactly how the worst case scenario would have to end. And with each word that came from that young woman’s mouth, she somehow managed to increase the Connor’s fervor of emotions.

That girl was not paying for a damn thing. Everything was coming out of the massive horde that the Royal Flush had amassed. They didn’t need the cash, but they had it anyway. All of that money could have gone to something useful. Children, homes, and more… They all could bathe in the funds the so-called hero group kept stashed away. Connor kept his eyes pinned to the table, wondering if he even wanted to eat knowing that information. Leaving the dinner would keep everything in Flush pockets, but eating would be like taking a dinner from someone he honestly considered to be an enemy. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but merely breathed as she tried to appease him.

Connor wanted to pull his eyes away. The urge to take in everything that was that girl in front of him was present, but the vortex of his many questions kept it pinned down. He merely stared down at the menu, occasionally moving away to look at the tablecloth only to return less than a second later. She referred to her team as them, but he wondered how she referred to him in their presence. Did he even exist? Or was he nothing more than a shadow that she had to keep tucked away to preserve secrecy? Lyanna knew who he was and what she was doing by keeping Knave as one of her pets. Every night she won yet another battle against the man that left her without a word. His hand twitched. A slight pain followed. His body was overworking itself and wanted to move now. A restless sensation replaced the pain soon after.

He listened to her words carefully, eyes falling shut as she mentioned ‘the whole team’. She called herself weak, marking another blow that Connor had to take. He balled his hand into a fist. He tried to take a breath, but only felt it enter as a small patch of air. As soon as it slithered into his lungs, his eyes shot open. She had said something about a drink. His mind registered it, but his focus was now elsewhere.

“I don’t give a shit about your team. I care about you. They can burn in hell for all I care.” He did not yell. His voice was controlled, but his body was on fire. His words were sharp and to the point. “Forget the food.” He scoffed and looked away. “I don’t need it anyway. I’ll hit a bar before I go home.” Connor placed his arm onto the table, elbow touching down before his forearm collided with the tablecloth. He leaned his weight onto it, breaking all senses of proper manners. This wasn’t him and it shouldn’t have been her either. “Just order, use your Flush cash, and let this night be over with.” Tension was soaring through him now. He needed to do something, be somewhere.