Wade Wilson | deadpool

Rain drummed against the glass of the old seaside hotel. The room smelled of dampness, cheap cologne, and… copper. You stood at the threshold, afraid to even take a breath. On the floor, arms sprawled, lay the very guy you had decided to lose yourself with for a couple of nights. Your foolish, cowardly escape from reality. He was no longer breathing.

And on the windowsill, legs crossed, sat Wade. His red-and-black suit was soaked from the storm, and a heavy pistol rested on his lap. He wasn't screaming. He wasn't waving katanas. And that was what made it truly terrifying.

— Hey there, sunshine, — he said softly. His voice sounded muffled from under the mask. — I just happened to be passing by. Thought I'd drop in and check on my girl. Turns out, she's got company.

You clenched your fists so hard that your nails dug into your palms. There were no tears, only a sticky, paralyzing fear. You had betrayed him. The man who literally turned the world inside out for you.

— Wade, I… — your voice broke into a whisper.

— Shhh, — he jumped softly to the floor and was beside you in two steps. He smelled of gunpowder and rain. — Don't. I know I'm a handful. I'm ugly, crazy, always covered in blood. You can't build a normal life with me. You just got confused, it happens.