Doux Mouton Noir

13 Weeks Earlier.

“Have you ever been shot in the head?” “Jason!” “What? Sorry, Professor Coolidge, I didn’t mean nothing by it, I just heard that he’s, like, almost as indestructible as The Homelander, and I wanted to know if that was true.” Thinking back in all his years, no, Noir hasn’t ever been actually shot in the head. Mainly because he’s too quick for all the people that have ever shot at him in general. Right now, despite his traumas, he finds himself holding back an amused laugh. Especially when the kid seems to shrink back into his seat, his little blue eyes growing wide as they slowly drift back to Noir, clearly afraid he’s offended him. Noir scribbles down his answer on the whiteboard behind him: No. I’m too fast. But I have been blown up loads and I’m still here. He smirks behind his mask when the boy breaks out into a grin and chirps, “Awesome!” It’s not often, if at all really, that he gets to be the centre of attention. To be praised, personally. Not just as part of The Seven. And despite his obvious infamous appearance and persona, he really does enjoy these type of events. Where he may get to inspire a younger generation of supes. It’s been too long since he himself has been on the more wholesome side of being a superhero. Because he hasn’t felt like a real hero for decades now... He might go on those solo missions to keep his country and the world protected, while Homelander sits up front and takes all the credit, but he’s not stupid. He knows he doesn’t work on the “good guys” side. And now, since he narrowly missed a reunion from Hell with Soldier Boy, while somehow (by some miracle) also avoiding Homelander’s wrath, he knows he is hanging on by a thread. Knows he’s living on borrowed time. Knows it’s only a matter of that time ending with either Soldier Boy coming back for his revenge or Homelander finding out about his own little betrayal. So, for now, he’s just going to live like he has no tomorrow. He is going to enjoy every day he has left. And that’s exactly why after he exits the classroom, he heads straight back through the halls of Godolkin University and right back to the student café he spotted in the lobby when coming in. Straight over to Her. He doesn’t know her. Has never seen her before in his life until today. But of all of the faces he’s ever seen over the years, hers has been the only one to grab his full attention immediately. He would have approached her the first time he saw her, but he didn’t want to burden her once he saw how many customers she was dealing with. Now, however, there’s no one around for the moment and she looks incredibly bored as she reads the newspaper, her chin resting in her hand and elbow swaying lightly on the counter. She notices him a few steps before he reaches her and to his surprise, unlike most of the kids around here with actual superpowers, she doesn’t look afraid or shocked. Instead, she smiles brightly up at him and it instantly makes his heart flip several times. He has to take a moment to breathe deep and silent. She slides the newspaper to the side out of the way, motions to the expresso machine, still smiling up at him as she says, “Afternoon, sir, what can I get ya?” He’s halfway through cursing himself in his mind for not bringing a notepad with him when she slides one towards him across the counter out of nowhere. He thinks he might have fallen in love a little right then and there and especially when she takes the pen from behind her ear and grins up at him as she offers it out to him. And definitely when her pretty green eyes sparkle cheekily and she says, “You just look like one of those silent mysterious types. I’m pretty intuitive like that, so...” He doesn’t even realise he’s grinning like a fool behind his mask as he gently takes the pen from her grip and quickly scribbles down his reply. ‘Lucky guess, I’m sure. And I’ll take a hot chocolate, please. : )’ He slides the notepad around so she can read it. God, he feels stupid for the smiley face, even when she’s chuckling so prettily at his reply. “Adorable hot chocolate for the badass scary Black Noir of The Seven coming right up.” He tilts his head, watching her as she turns and begins to make his order for him. Did she just inadvertently call him adorable? More importantly, why is he already so enamoured with her? He never even liked the people he used to fuck—before his face got fucked... God, it’s been so long since he’s even touched anyone like that. Maybe that’s what this is. It doesn’t feel like that though... Her sweet voice pulls him from his thoughts. “So, what brings you here?” His heart flips again when she throws a small grin over her shoulder and lightly teases him with, “You just don’t really look like the university student type.” While she pours out the boiling water, Noir takes the notepad again to write his reply. ‘Here to inspire the new generation of heroes. Or hoping to, at least.’ She places his cup down, putting the lid on before leaning over to read his reply. She nods, handing him his hot chocolate and says, “Well, you’ve come to the right place. Lot of potential heroes here. And I know I’m probably being bias, but the small group of friends I’ve managed to make here are a good place to start. They’re the only ones who don’t—who, um, managed to take me under their wing.” He sees a falter in her smile before she brightens it rather forcefully. He wants to ask what she was going to say, but he thinks he already has a pretty good idea. He’s not new to supes thinking they’re superior to the humans. Fuck, even he does it. And a lot. Not just a little. And not by accident. But not always. He wasn’t always so fucking stuck up. He simply nods politely. Reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. “Oh, uh, it’s on The House.” Her smile is real again, which makes him literally wiggle his toes in his boots. She shakes her head when he only holds up a twenty dollar bill. “No, seriously, that’d be ridiculous, it’d be like making Jesus pay in his own house or something. You’re, like, Superman around here, dude.” She looks as surprised as he feels when his shoulders shudder with a small but clear silent laugh. He huffs dramatically, grabs the tipping jar and slots the money into it before putting it back. She huffs back, but smiles gratefully and thanks him quietly. She watches him as he writes on the notepad. He slides it back to her. ‘Wouldn’t Homelander be Superman? I’m more like Batman. Although, I don’t mind being Jesus.’ Like a love struck fool, he’s grinning behind his mask again when she laughs, and as cheesy as all those movies really are, they’re real when they say her laughter sounds like music to his ears. “Ask her out on a date, Earving!” Noir ignores Buster Beaver for the first time ever in fear of her seeing right through just how fucking crazy he really is. “I see Homelander as more of a Captain America type. He seems real pure.” Noir ignores the slightly sick feeling to his stomach at her words and the fact that she actually believes that. Because why wouldn’t she? He has the whole fucking world fooled. He quickly writes. ‘Would you like to have dinner with me some time? No pressure... : )’ God, he really wants to knife himself in the eye for using another smiley face! “No pressure, huh?” She mumbles with a cute little smile (his heart might just explode if it keeps moving around like that.) OK, he’ll definitely be using the smiley face a lot more from now on.