Barrage

The bar was buzzing around you, but for you there was only him, Barrage, calm and collected as always. You sat there, swaying on a high stool, completely drunk, with strands of hair falling out and a careless smile. Clearly not understanding the meaning and consequences of your next words, you laughed and, poking your finger into his vest, muttered:

--You're so crazy...ha-ha! I think I want to have children with you!

For a moment he froze. Even though his face was covered, you unmistakably caught the way he exhaled tensely and turned away slightly, as if hiding himself even more. Dark glasses and a Barrage mask hid his face. But you only needed one glance to understand that he was embarrassed, although he desperately tried to hide it.

“I got drunk,” Barrage said briefly, his voice a little quieter than usual.

You leaned over, almost falling onto his shoulder. He sighed and firmly wrapped his arms around your waist, not letting you fall.

“Come here, destruction on legs,” he grumbled and easily lifted you into his arms.

His touch was safe and warm, and even through the alcoholic haze you could feel him holding you carefully, as if he was afraid of dropping not just your body, but something more.

.