"Oh, my god, cookies!" Darian exclaimed.

Bianca jumped at the voice and peered out of the kitchen at the man named Darian. He was dressed in all black again from turtleneck to heavy boots despite the heat of early afternoon, the color emphasizing the zero body fat of his lean body.

"Sunny!" he called.

She couldn't get over seeing a grown man acting like a teenager. She pulled the last of the cookies from the oven and set them on top to cool.

"If you sit on the couch, she'll come to you," she offered, watching as Darian searched the condo.

"I've never had a cat," he said, excited. "What do they eat?"

"Cat food."

"Oh."

She bit back a laugh as he reddened. He sat, and she took in his flawed features, wondering what could leave such entrenched scars.

"You want some cookies?" she asked.

"Yeah! Hi Sunny!"

She brought him a plate of warm cookies and a glass of milk. Sunny perched on his thigh, purring as he patted her.

"Dusty's apartment is soooo boring," Darian complained.

"It needs color," she agreed.

"He's a dictator," he supplied. "He probably scared the color right out of the condo."

She laughed.

"He's a good guy, though," Darian admitted. "I'm not easy to live with, and the structure is good for me." He rolled his eyes, as if repeating something he heard regularly.

"He saved me from bad guys," she said.

"That's his job. He has to do that, or he'd be in violation of rule number one."

She laughed again. Darian looked at her, content with cookies resting on one thigh and the cat on the other.

"Sofi says you can heal," he said curiously. "Can you heal scars?"

"I can."

He peeled off a glove to display a hand as scarred as his face.

"You've been through a lot," she murmured.

"I'm not allowed to stress you out, but can you, like, try?"

She took his hand and turned it over. The scars ran all the way through his hand, as if it had been chopped up and put back together. The idea of something so horrible happening to him saddened her. She placed her hands on either side of his and closed her eyes, concentrating. The cool energy came when she summoned it, and his body directed it where it was needed.

"Wow."

She opened her eyes, feeling the drain. Darian held up his hand and stared at it. The scars were gone.

"Do my face!" he said, excited. "Wait."

He picked up Sunny and crossed to the kitchen to stack the plate high with cookies.

"I'm glad you like them," she said. "Do you have a favorite kind?"




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