❨ nyctophilia

[avior.]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx/nĭk'tə-fĭl'ē-ə/
xxxxxxxxa preference for the night or darkness

xxxxxxin which a young man saves a supervillain's
xxxxxxxxlife and they both learn a few things.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxyou may post ^^

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[avior.]

table of contents:
- one
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-

cast:
- kevin zegers as terrence lewis
- nastya sten as darcy 'mooncross' tores
- bex taylor-klaus as dominique lewis

[avior.]

The night was quiet. Stars blanketed the velvet skies as the streetlights threw soupy yellow puddles against the asphalt. Dark rain clouds brewed on the horizon, but they wouldn't come around until tomorrow morning, at the earliest. There was a sharp sting to the air, one that kept most people indoors. One lone figure, however, could be seen making its way down the street.

Terrence's earbuds were in, the tiny, muted whine of classic rock the only sound. His feet sounded hollowly on the road, crunching pebbles underfoot as he walked with no clear destination in mind. He did this a lot, especially when there was stuff on his mind. It was nice- nothing but the sky and the city lights and the music.

His mind drifted to his sister- his baby sister, Dominique. She was a fighter, but their brother's death had taken a toll on her. Then again, it'd done that for all of them- once a family of five, then four, and now three. She had been too young to remember their father, but Tyler- that one had hit home.

A gentle sigh left his lips, forming crystals in the air. Terrence tilted his head back, eyes trailing the gleaming sky as his breath mingled with the Milky Way. When was it time to quit, to throw in the towel and be done with it all? Was there a time, considering the responsibilities resting on his shoulders?

Something dark appeared in his line of vision, only black against the yellow glow on the road. Snapped out of his thoughts, Terrence drifted closer, steps subconsciously pulling him in that direction. He neared it, vaguely wondering what it was? Oil, maybe? Or a water stain that hadn't yet dried?

The answer came to him and he turned away quickly, stomach heaving. Blood. Why was there blood? He reached up and pulled out his earbuds with shaky hands. The music died away, leaving him alone in the silence. Unable to help himself, he looked closer, despite the trembling of his breaths and the pattering of his heart. There was a trail leading away from the stain, right into a shadow-shrouded alley between two apartment buildings. Terrence swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing with the effort it took. He couldn't go in there- could he?

They could still be alive.

That thought settled it for him. Before he could think twice, he ran forward. The darkness enveloped him at once.As an afterthought, he brought his phone out of his pocket and turned on the flashlight, bright beam cutting through the shadows. Walls crowded him in on either side, blocking out the light from above. Garbage bags slumped against the ground. And then behind them, something moved.

It was barely noticeable, but Terrence jumped, nearly dropping his phone. His breathing came in fast gasps. Okay, so there was definitely something alive back there. He crept forward, swallowing the coppery taste of fear in his mouth. His palms were slick with sweat.

The white beam fell across a person he'd know all too well. Her face was everywhere- TV, newspapers, social media. The name she'd been dubbed fell into place at once as his eyes scoured the black and grey jumpsuit and the gleaming black motorcycle helmet, now cracked and scoured with dirt.

Mooncross.

Armed and extremely dangerous.

One hand rested against her side, where the flashlight beam illuminated a patch of bright scarlet. As he watched, her chest rose and fell, breaths shallow, hardly there. She was hardly conscious, but she was alive. Sweating profusely, Terrence crouched beside her. He should call the cops- or would an ambulance be more appropriate first? Carefully, he reached out and curled his fingers around the underside of the helmet and pulled it off. The face underneath jerked out a surprised gasp.

Her features were youthful and round, easily able to pass as a teenager. Her lips were full and white-blonde hair rested around her face in soft waves. And yet, there was a certain hardness to her- an involuntary clench of the jaw stiffening of the shoulders that suggested wariness. There was also the scar- a thin line reaching from her right cheekbone to her jaw. Terrence, however, did not notice any of these things. The face had brought something back.

The puzzle pieces in his mind had fallen into place.