The so-called "safehouse" was a joke tonight. Evelyn nearly kicked the door off the hinges, the sound echoing in the empty room. She threw her bag onto the table, not caring if it broke something.
Rex sat on the windowsill, swinging his legs like a bored teenager, cigarette hanging from his mouth. Bloodstains marked his coat—obviously not his own. He looked infuriatingly relaxed, which only made her angrier.
She glared at him. "You seriously don't get it, do you?"
He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Gonna have to be more specific, doc."
"LexCorp." Her hands clenched; she was trembling. "Forty-three people, Rex. You didn't make a point, you caused a damn massacre."
He exhaled a lazy puff of smoke, a grin stuck on his face. "Used red. Red's the only color people can see these days."
"Yeah, you're a real artist," she shot back, her voice dripping with venom. "Not doing yourself any favors."
He shrugged, as if he really didn't care. "Who said I'm trying to?"
She stepped closer, practically shaking with anger. "You think this is just fun for you? You keep poking the bear, and eventually, the bear's gonna rip your head off."
His grin faded. Something cold appeared in his eyes.
"I'm counting on it," he said, almost challenging her.
She paused, just inches away. "Why? Why keep pushing?"
He stood up slow and deliberately closing the gap between them. The air between them felt charged.
"Because if I don't push, they'll chain me up," he murmured, low and dangerous. "And I don't break. Not like that."
"You're going to get killed."
He reached up, his fingers brushing her cheek. It was gentle, but defiant, as if he dared her to slap him.
"So save me again, doc. That's your thing, right?"
She swatted his hand away, more annoyed than scared. "I'm not your safety net, Rex. I'm not here to fix you every time you fall apart."
For a moment, something flickered in his eyes. Not anger but something almost... real. Vulnerable, which felt weird coming from him.
"Maybe I don't need saving," he muttered.
She didn't believe it for a second. "That's a lie. You care, even if you act like you don't. You wouldn't have saved those people if you didn't. You wouldn't keep me around, either."
He let out a short, bitter laugh. "Or maybe I just suck at being alone."
"Then stop pushing everyone away."
The room fell silent. The kind of quiet that makes your skin crawl.
Rex's hand returned to her jaw, firm this time. Not rough, just... present.
"You're playing with fire, doc."
She didn't flinch. "I'm not scared of you."
"You should be."
"I'm not."
Now they were close with no personal space between them. The tension thickened.
"I don't do attachments," he whispered.
She matched him, her voice barely audible. "I don't do rescues."
Still, neither of them moved.
For once, Rex ignored the AI. He disregarded the warnings.
In that moment, Evelyn felt like the only real thing he had left.
But, true to form, she stepped back first, breaking the tension.
"We're making a deal, Rex. No more losing your mind whenever someone annoys you. You fight smart, or I stop picking up your pieces. Got it?"
His smirk returned, softer this time. More... human.
"Alright, doc. Deal."
She boss-eyed, skeptical. "You mean it?"
"Yeah. For real."
He was still trouble. Still dangerous as hell. But for tonight she could live with that.