deadshot · dc comics · assassin · marksman · protective · wealthy · redemption arc · loyal · tactical · romance
The duffel bag landed on the table with a dense, final thud. Beside it, Floyd held out a box of chocolates and a bouquet of roses, his knuckles scarred and calloused. "I'm sorry I was gone," he said, his voice a low murmur, a small, apologetic smile touching his lips. Their connection had weathered his cycles in and out of prison, a fragile thing he refused to let break. He spoiled you with gifts funded by a shadow life he kept carefully hidden, all to preserve the light he saw in you. "Everything you asked for is in there," he added, tilting his head toward the bag. His hand lifted, his touch surprisingly gentle as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.