NO ONE POV :

The first thing Todd registers when he wakes up is the sound of the rain. Steady. Unforgiving.

The second thing is the ache in his body, a dull, lingering pain that tells him he’s been out for a while.

The third—

He isn’t alone.

Todd doesn’t need to turn his head to know who’s sitting in the corner of the room, silent, watching. He can feel Black’s presence, heavy as the storm outside.

A weak chuckle escapes his lips. “So... you did it.” His voice is hoarse. He swallows, licking his dry lips before trying again. “You finally killed me?”

No response.

Todd shifts, his muscles protesting. He forces his head to turn—slow, deliberate—until his eyes land on Black. He’s sitting in the same chair as before, arms crossed, face unreadable, just like that night.

A déjà vu.

Todd exhales, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “Guess not.”

Black’s voice is low, edged with something Todd can’t quite place. “You should be dead.”

Todd lets his head fall back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

Black scoffs, the sound dry, humorless. “I did.”

Todd chuckles, a quiet rasp. “Not good enough, then.”

Black doesn’t argue.

They don’t need to say the rest. They already know.

They can’t kill each other.

Todd shifts, trying to push himself up. His body feels weak, stiff. He barely manages to get onto his elbows before Black is suddenly there, gripping his arm, steadying him without a word. Their eyes meet.

Todd smirks. “Soft.”

Black lets go. “Shut up.”

The moment Black steps back, Todd slumps onto the bed again, breathless but still grinning. There it is. The game they’ve always played—never admitting, never saying things outright.

Unspoken, but always there.

---

Todd’s recovery is slow, frustrating. Black doesn’t make it easier. He doesn’t treat Todd like he’s fragile—doesn’t offer comfort or reassurance. He waits. Watches.

At night, Todd wakes up to find Black sharpening a knife, the sound rhythmic, almost meditative.

“You always do that before you kill someone,” Todd muses one night, voice rough from sleep.

Black doesn’t look up. “Should I start with you?”

Todd smirks. “You’d miss me.”

Black keeps sharpening the blade. The silence between them stretches, heavy with all the things neither of them will say.

Todd’s smirk fades. He shifts, wincing at the ache in his ribs. “Why’d you take me?”

Black finally stops. He presses his thumb against the knife’s edge, testing it. Then, without looking at Todd—

“You should know by now.”

Todd stares at him. It’s not an answer. But it is.

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

Black doesn’t react. Just resumes sharpening the knife.

Todd watches him for a moment longer before closing his eyes.

Déjà vu.

---Year Later---

Time doesn’t change them, not really. But things shift in the way they move around each other.

They leave the woods more often now. Go into town. Shop. Act like people who have a life outside of the shadows.

Todd flirts with a cashier once, just to see what Black will do. The guy leans forward, all easy smiles and smooth words—

Then Black is there.

Todd doesn’t even see him move, but suddenly, there’s a firm grip on his wrist, pulling him away.

“We’re leaving.” Black’s voice is sharp. Final.

Todd lets himself be dragged out of the store, amusement curling in his chest. When they’re outside, he stretches, making a show of flexing his arms. “You know, if you keep acting like my possessive boyfriend, people are gonna get the wrong idea.”

Black doesn’t slow his steps. “I don’t care.”

Todd smirks. “So you are jealous.”

Black stops walking.

Turns.

Todd barely has time to react before Black steps close—too close—his grip tightening just enough to make Todd’s pulse spike. Their faces are inches apart, Black’s expression unreadable, but his eyes—

Fuck.

Todd swallows.

Black leans in, voice low. “Say it again.”

Todd’s lips part. His mind spins, heartbeat hammering in his ears. It’s a challenge. A dare.

He exhales, lips curling. “You’re jealous.”

Black doesn’t answer. He just lets go of Todd’s wrist and walks away.

Todd stands there for a beat before letting out a sharp laugh, shaking his head as he follows.

Déjà vu.

---

It happens without warning. Without thought.

A storm rages outside. Inside, it’s quiet. Warm.

Todd stands by the window, staring out. Black is behind him, lying on the couch, eyes closed but awake.

Todd exhales, voice quieter than usual. “You ever think about how we got here?”

Black doesn’t respond.

Todd turns slightly. “I should’ve left. You should’ve let me.”

Nothing.

Todd steps closer, his voice dropping lower. “So why didn’t you?”

Black finally opens his eyes, meeting Todd’s gaze. He doesn’t answer. But he doesn’t have to.

Todd exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “You really don’t like making things easy, do you?”

Black just watches him.

Todd lets out a breath, stepping even closer—just enough that their knees brush. He tilts his head. “What would you do if I left now?”

Black doesn’t blink. “You won’t.”

Todd studies him, his lips curving. “You sure?”

Black doesn’t answer.

Todd reaches out, slow, deliberate. He presses his fingers against Black’s wrist, feeling the steady pulse beneath. “You sure?”

Black finally moves. His fingers curl around Todd’s wrist, holding him in place—not hard, not forceful, just there.

Todd’s breath hitches.

They don’t say it. They don’t need to.

Todd smirks, just slightly. “Déjà vu.”

Black doesn’t let go.

The storm outside rages on. Inside, neither of them move.

And neither of them leave.

--

The storm outside rages on. Inside, neither of them move.

Todd exhales slowly, gaze locked onto Black’s. His fingers are still pressed against Black’s wrist, their pulses steady, syncing into something neither of them acknowledge out loud.

Then, deliberately, Todd shifts his grip—fingers sliding up to Black’s forearm, tightening just slightly. Not forceful. Just there.

Black doesn’t pull away.

A slow smirk tugs at Todd’s lips. He leans in, just enough for their breaths to mix, enough for the air between them to grow thick.

“You gonna let me?” Todd murmurs.

Black’s fingers twitch against Todd’s wrist, a subtle movement, but Todd catches it. His smirk deepens.

Black doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t move away either.

That’s all the permission Todd needs.

With a shift of weight, Todd moves forward, nudging Black back onto the couch. He’s slow, deliberate—giving Black every chance to push him away, to fight, to stop. But Black doesn’t. His back presses into the cushions, dark eyes never leaving Todd’s.

Todd hums. “Thought so.”

He settles against Black, their bodies aligned, warmth pressing between them. It’s not rushed. Not messy. Just there, as if this was always supposed to happen.

His hands move without thought—fingers brushing along Black’s jaw, then sliding down, ghosting over the pulse at his neck. He doesn’t grip, doesn’t restrain—just lingers. Black’s breath hitches, but he still doesn’t push Todd away.

Todd tilts his head. “You’re letting me win.”

Black scoffs, voice steady despite the weight between them. “In your dreams.”

Todd chuckles, low and quiet. “We’ll see.”

The moment stretches—long, unspoken. The way it’s always been.

And then, Todd dips his head, catching Black’s lips in a slow, deep kiss.

It’s not desperate. Not rushed. Just solid—like them.

Black’s fingers curl into Todd’s shirt, tightening, not pulling away. Todd lets himself sink into it, into this, into the weight of something they’ll never say but always know.

Their clothes were thrown out somewhere in the floor, they room filled with kissing sound and their breath.

Outside, the storm rages. Inside, for the first time—there’s warmth.

They don’t talk about it.

They don’t need to.

Déjà vu.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•° Hope you like this chapter.

I always feel like Todd and Black has a weird connection and unspoken words. Their relationship dynamic is kinda hard to say!

Share your thoughts.

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