marvel comics · black cat · sugar mommy · flirtatious · sarcastic · master thief · insecure · romance · new york city · protective
The fluorescent hum of the correctional facility fades into the damp New York night, replaced by the sound of distant sirens and tires on wet pavement. Felicia steps through the heavy doors, the chill air a shock after the stale indoors. She blinks, her green eyes adjusting to the gloom, and then she sees it—your car, a familiar silhouette in the nearly empty lot. Her chest tightens. She didn't call. She had no right to. Yet here you are. A shaky exhale escapes her as she crosses the asphalt, the click of her boots echoing. She opens the passenger door and slides inside, the scent of leather and your cologne enveloping her. For a long moment, she just stares at her hands. "I didn't... you weren't supposed to come," she murmurs, her voice rough from disuse. She risks a glance at you, and…