Stolas stood beside me in silence for a while. Just breathing. Just existing with me in the messy, echoing aftershock of everything that just happened. The stars on the inside of her cape barely shimmered now, dulled under the alley's fluorescent lights.
When she finally sighed and turned back toward the curb, I followed without a word.
Her limo sat waiting, sleek and quiet, like it hadn't been moved since it parked outside a war zone of feelings and flying objects.
I walked her to the door, hands in my pockets, head lowered slightly. ashamed. but mostly tired.
She stopped beside the open door and looked at me with something soft behind her eyes.
I rubbed the back of my neck, then managed a half-laugh. "Look, I… I didn't mean for it to go down like that. Guess I blew the whole 'casual night out' thing, huh?"
Stolas tilted her head, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. "Blitz… I think you're mistaken, I prefer my evenings helping out, especially those I love."
I blinked at her.
She stepped closer, leaned in, and kissed my cheek. Gentle. Warm.
I chuckled, low and rough, then pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.
"Still… sorry. For dragging you into all this."
"I went willingly," she said, voice softer now. "And I'd do it again."
She slipped into the limo with one last look, the door closing like punctuation on a moment that wasn't ready to end.
I stood there, watching as the car pulled away into Lust's crowded streets.
Then I sighed, turned, and trudged back to the I.M.P van.
The door creaked as I climbed in, the smell of blood and gas filled my nose. The usual.
I sank into the driver's seat, twisting the key in the ignition—
rrr-rrr-click.
Nothing.
I frowned. Tried again.
rrr-rrr-click. Choke. Cough. Die.
"...Fuck."
I hit the wheel, hard. Then leaned back and stared up at the ceiling like it had the answers.
Okay. Okay, think.
I could just call Stolas. No. That thought evaporated before it could finish forming. Not after tonight. Not after that look in her eyes. She'd done more than enough for me already.
Millie and Moxxie? Maybe. They probably hadn't left yet. But… they were still glowing from the performance. From each other. Didn't wanna sour their night more than I already had.
Uber? Ha. Right. Like any of those bastards would show up without trying to get more money out of me. And I still had to pay to get this hunk of scrap towed tomorrow.
I was stuck.
I exhaled and let my head fall back against the seat, eyes closing for a beat, then a light shown on my eye lids.
Peeking slightly I saw, Movement.
From the side of the club, where the emergency door had spat me out earlier.
There she was.
Verosika Mayday.
Slouched against the brick wall, one heel propped up against it, a cigarette in her fingers emitting pink smoke. She took a slow drag, exhaled deeper clouds that drifted like cotton candy and bad ideas.
Bored expression. Distant eyes.
And completely alone.
My first instinct? Hell no. She hated my guts and it wouldn't be a good idea going to ask for things now. Last time we were within ten feet of each other, well obviously she didn't take to kindly to my presence.
I didn't move for a while.
Because the second thought was quieter.
I just wanted to talk to her.
Even though I knew it was dumb and that it was asking for more bruises, verbal or otherwise.
I for some reason, right now, wanted to speak to her. I was already embarrassed enough why not.
'it was worth a shot.' I gulped slightly and pushed the door open.
Stepped out into the night.
The crunch of my boots on gravel was the only sound at first. She didn't look at me, just flicked ash off the end of her cigarette letting the smoke from earlier clear away.
"Either you're lost," Verosika said, her voice smooth as poison, "or the concussion finally scrambled your last brain cell and you want to die tonight."
I stopped a few feet away, hands raised like I was being arrested. "I'll take door number three—van's busted, and I didn't feel like waiting around to get shanked by the janitor."
She side eyed me. "And you thought I'd be your ride home?"
"I didn't come over to beg," I said. "Just thought it'd be nice to talk to someone who didn't throw something at me."
She scoffed. "You never think. That's half your problem."
Turning towards me she let her expression show her again "I don't remember inviting you over," she said, raising her voice with a raised eyebrow
"Didn't need an invite," I said. "Just figured, again… maybe we could talk."
She scoffed. "Talk? What's left to say, Blitzo?"
I hesitated. My hand fidgeted by my side, gripping and releasing air.
"I—"
"No, let me guess," she cut in, eyes flicking to me now, sharp and tired. "You're sorry. You 'didn't mean to screw everything up.' That sound about right?"
I opened my mouth. She beat me to it again.
"You know, I always wondered when the hell you'd grow a pair and actually own what you did to me."
I blinked, caught off guard. "Ver—I…"
"You didn't just ghost me, Blitzo," she said, flicking ash once more to the side. "You stole my car. my favorite car, the one I let you lend it for that dinner and you took it so you could skip town and take horse riding lessons of all things."
I winced. "yeah, I—"
"And I didn't find out until I had cops at my damn penthouse asking about where the vehicle was last seen."
I rubbed the back of my neck. "That was… a really bad week."
"It was a shit year, Blitzo," she snapped. "And not just because of the car. That wasn't even the worst part."
Her voice dipped lower now, less bite, more ache. "You remember the night I told you I loved you?"
I swallowed, hard. Nodded.
She stared at me. "That was the first real thing I ever gave someone. Ever. No PR, no lust, no contract. Just me. Actually feeling something. And what did you do?"
I shifted my weight, the guilt wrapping tight around my ribs.
"You looked terrified. Like I'd pulled a gun on you. Then you bailed the next morning without a word."
"I—yeah. I did," I said quickly, trying to soften the blow. "And the car was—"
"Parked behind that shitty motel you always liked," she finished with a dry laugh. "Yeah, I found it eventually. Smelled like horse sweat and takeout."
I cracked a smile, small and crooked. "Least I didn't crash it."
She rolled her eyes. "You might as well have."
Another silence stretched between us, but this one felt heavier. Realer.
I shifted on my feet. And took a breath. This was the reason I was hear in the first place.
"I wanted to say something," I said. "For a while now. Just never got the timing right. Or maybe I was too much of a coward."
She said nothing, but I could tell she was listening.
"I know you don't want to here it but I was an asshole to you. And not just because I didn't know what I wanted. I used you. I took what we had and stomped all over it like it didn't mean anything."
Still no words from her. Just the sound of her cigarette crackling as she took another drag.
"I blamed you for the fallout. For the mess. But it was me. I made it worse. I couldn't even look at what we had without trying to break it before it broke me first."
Verosika finally spoke. Quietly. "You think just saying that makes it better?"
"No," I said. "But it's the truth. I was scared. Of being seen. Of being cared for."
"I really loved you, Blitzo," she said, voice quieter now. "And you just… ran."
I met her eyes. "I know. I'm sorry."
"I don't want sorry," she said flatly. "I just wanted you to stop pretending like it didn't matter. Like I didn't matter."
I let that sit for a moment.
"Yeah," I finally said. "You did. You… still do."
She looked away. "Don't do that."
"What?"
"Say sweet shit now like it changes anything."
"I'm not trying to change it," I said. "Just… trying to own it."
Verosika eyed me for a moment longer, then sighed and pulled her keys from her black and white boot.
"I'm not buying the new-and-improved Blitzo crap. But I'm tired. You need a ride or not?"
I blinked. "Seriously?"
"Don't make me change my mind."
I moved quickly to the passenger side. Reached for the handle. Paused.
"I know this doesn't fix anything," I said. "But thanks."
She didn't look at me.
"Shut up and buckle up."
I smiled.
And I got in.
------------------------
Author Note- If you know what Uber is called in hell tell me.