Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)

The kitchen reeked of blood and dust, splinters jutted from the busted doorframe, theunter sagged under a fresh dent, and glass shards glinted sharp in the dim light—a wreckage of violence still warm, the echo of fists and snarls hanging thick. Kael was slumped beside Rhea at the dining table. He pressed an ice pack to his broken noseld biting his swollen skin, blood crusting in streaks down his chin—and winced as his ribs twinged, bruised from Dreck's blows.

His hazel eyes flicked to the takeout bag, grease-soaked and crumpled, fries spilling across the table like spent shells. Rhea sat close, elbow brushing his, her scarred legs bare under his oversized t-shirt—white fabric smeared with blood and sweat, hem riding high over black panties that flashed stark against her thighs. Crimson hair fell wild, sticking to her neck, and she tore into a burger—grease glistening on her fingers, chewing loud, utterly unfazed by the dead thug a few feet away.

She ripped a chunk free with her teeth, then held it out—bun soggy, meat dripping—her amber eyes glinting. "Want a bite?" she asked, voice rough, casual, like she was offering a sip offfee.

Kael's gaze slid from her outstretched hand to Dreck'srpse—blood pooling wider, boots askew—then back to her face. Her expression didn't flicker—no guilt, no tremor, just a faint smirk tugging her sauce-smeared lips. He exhaled sharp, a rasp that stung his nose. "You just snapped a guy's neck, and you're handing me food?"

Rhea blinked, slow and deliberate, then glanced at the body—headcked, like she'd forgotten it was there. "Oh. Yeah." She shrugged, a quick roll of her shoulders, and popped the bite into her mouth—chewing hard, swallowing loud. "What, you think I'm gonna cry about it?" Her amber eyes met his, steady, daring him to flinch.

Kael stared, hazel narrowing as he studied her—scarred hands steady, breath even, no crack in her fire. She was fine—stoneld fine—no shock, no shakes, no shadow of regret. He shouldn't be surprised. Rhea's hands were stained long before this—innocents torched, heroes charred, anyone who crossed her turned to ash.

Killing was her rhythm, her pulse. But this time, his brow creased, a flicker of something tugging his gut. This wasn't some random mark—she'd killed a villain, a thug like her old self, to protect this. His rehab, his Haven. Was it working? He shook his head, shoving the thought down, and grabbed his takeout box—fries tumbling as he pried it open.

Rhea smirked, wiping grease on her t-shirt—another red streak blending with Dreck's blood. "If you'd let me out sooner, your face wouldn't look like roadkill," she said, snagging a fry and crunching it loud, amber eyes glinting mischief.

Kael ffed, a low grunt that scraped his throat—pain flaring in his nose as he shifted the ice. "And if I'd let you out, you might've been in on it—waiting to bolt the snd I turned my back." He dug into his burger, grease slicking his fingers, and took a bite—salt and meat sharp against thepper stillating his tongue.

She rolled her eyes, dramatic and sharp, leaning back—chair creaking, t-shirt shifting higher. "Please. Team up with that?" She jerked her chin at Dreck, sprawled like a broken puppet. "Did you see him? I've got standards, Kael." Her voice dripped rn, fry waving in her hand like a baton.

Kael's grin broke, splitting his busted lip—pain a quick sting he ignored. "Oh? Not your type, huh?" He chewed slow, hazel eyes glinting as he watched her—baiting, testing.