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Dante and Mary had been a matched set since before either of them could walk properly. Two tiny storms tearing through the quiet outskirts of Redgrave, leaving confused cats, half-broken flower pots, and exhausted parents in their wake.
Kalina often sighed that her daughter didn't play so much as she invaded whatever she touched, while Eva swore Dante's grin alone had the power to start natural disasters.
But every afternoon, the two women sat together on Eva’s porch, tea cups in hand, watching their children crash into the world side by side.
“They’re going to end up together,” Eva would say with that soft, knowing smile.
Kalina laughed every time. “If they don’t burn the whole planet down first.”
And today was no different.
Dante, small and bright-eyed with silver hair sticking up in every direction, was giggling as he tried and failed to outrun Mary. She was shorter than him but infinitely more terrifying, stomping after him in tiny overalls, her mismatched eyes blazing with righteous childhood fury.
“You ate my cookie!” she shouted, grabbing him by the collar with both hands.
“I-- I didn’t know it was yours!” Dante squeaked, sweating as she pulled him closer like a pint-sized debt collector.
From the porch, Kalina nearly spilled her tea.
“Mary! Be nice with Dante!”
Mary puffed her cheeks, refusing to let go.
“He stole my cookie!”
Eva covered her mouth to hide her laughter. “Sweetheart, you brought that cookie for Dante.”
She froze, then immediately shoved him away, cheeks flaming red.
“Whatever! I didn’t mean it like that!”
But Dante only grinned at her wide, fearless, and adoring in the way only a child who already loved her could.
Eva nudged Kalina.
“See? Trouble… but cute trouble.”
Kalina smiled softly.
“They’re going to break a lot of things when they grow up.”
_________________________________________________________________________________
Years passed. The world changed.
And the two tiny disasters who once terrorized their neighbourhood with wooden swords and stolen cookies had grown into weapons the world depended on.
Lady didn’t go by “Mary” anymore.
The girl with mismatched eyes had become a professional sharp, disciplined, cold when she needed to be.
A top agent in Darkom, the global demon-hunting organization that controlled nearly everything from intel to military-grade exorcism tech.
Dante… took a different path.
Or at least, he tried to until Lady poisoned him.
He still complained about it.
“Of all the ways to arrest a guy,” Dante muttered for the hundredth time, “you had to go with poison. You couldn’t just ask nicely?”
Lady didn’t bother looking at him. “You wouldn’t have accepted.”
“I would’ve accepted if you didn’t drug me!”
“You were ready to go into the wild whit the keys to the world end!”
“…in my defense, It doesn’t look like you guys are doing a better job.”
Lady just ignored him...
They hadn’t seen each other in years, but time didn’t erase the way she reacted to him.
Not then.
Not now.
Finally, she exhaled. “We’re doing our job. You were doing whatever you wanted.”
“That worked out fine for me,” Dante shot back with a shrug.
“It didn’t work out fine for the people who needed you.”
Old arguments wrapped in older affection.
“You’re still dramatic,” Dante muttered.
“And you’re still reckless,” she replied without missing a beat.
There it was
that familiar back-and-forth rhythm that neither of them ever forgot.
“This isn’t like when we were kids. You can’t just run around picking fights and expect the world to bend for you.”
Dante stretched out on the bench, hands behind his head. “Funny. You say that exactly the same way you used to.”
She paused.
“…Maybe you haven’t changed that much either,” she admitted quietly.
Dante turned his head, eyes softening just a little.
He hadn’t heard that tone from her in a long time.
“Well,” he said, “you’re the one who dragged me back into your mess.”
“Poisoned you back,” she corrected dryly.
“Still rude.”
A faint smile tugged at her mouth before she could stop it.
He caught it.
“Hey,” Dante said softly, “look at that. You still like me.”
She snapped her gaze forward. “Don’t push it.”
But her cheeks were a shade warmer.
Moments like this kept happening.
Small things.
Old instincts resurfacing like sparks blown back to life:
Years couldn’t erase who they were.
Distance couldn’t change what they meant to each other.
They tried to live different lives.
They tried to grow away from each other.
But some bonds don’t break.
They just wait.
_________________________________________________________________________________
The room was barely big enough for two people.
Concrete walls.
A single flickering light panel.
Dante and Lady sat opposite each other on a metal bench, both pretending they weren’t avoiding each other’s eyes.
“Hey… can I ask you something?”
Lady glanced at him, wary. “Depends.”
“You got someone in your life?”
She froze.
Her mouth opened for a reply, but nothing came out.
Of all the things he could have asked, that wasn’t the one she expected.
“I...” She looked away, cheeks burning despite her best effort to stay composed. “No. No, Dante… I never had anyone.”
He blinked. “Never?”
“I never had the time,” she admitted. “And no one ever… caught my attention.”
A breath.
A pause.
Then, quieter:
“Except for one white-haired idiot who kept throwing himself into danger.”
Dante’s heart skipped.
Lady crossed her arms, trying to play it cool. “Your turn. Anyone in your life?”
He laughed softly, but it wasn’t a joke.
“Lady… you know me. I’ve been alone. Doing jobs. Killing demons. Eating pizza. Playing games in my crappy hide out.”
He scratched the back of his head, suddenly shy.
“But, uh… for some reason, without a certain girl with mismatched eyes? I couldn’t enjoy any of it.”
That hit her like a punch straight to the chest.
They stared at each other.
Dante moved first.
Lady didn’t stop him.
Their bodies reacted before their minds did raw instinct, old trust, old friendship turning into something that felt a lot like inevitability.
They stepped toward each other
And then
The Unthinkable happened
Suddenly they were on the floor, limbs tangled in the most chaotic, graceless, absolutely Dante-and-Lady way possible:
Lady somehow had her leg hooked over Dante’s shoulder, pressing against his chest and half choking him in the process.
Dante was desperately trying to brace himself with one arm while gripping her thigh with the other, his face red and panicked as he struggled to breathe through the accidental hold.
Lady herself was sprawled underneath him, equally flustered, face bright red, teeth clenched in embarrassment as she tried and failed to wriggle free.
Both of them were sweating, wide-eyed, stuck in a compromising, tangled mess that looked exactly like they had fallen straight into a combat position they absolutely did not mean to recreate.
For a long, breathless second, neither of them moved.
Dante was still pinned awkwardly between Lady’s thighs, his hand gripping her leg, her hand plastered firmly across his mouth in pure panic. His eyes were wide, red-faced, confused and flustered all at once.
Lady looked even worse.
Her cheeks were bright crimson, her heartbeat so loud she swore it echoed in the tiny room.
“D-Don’t,” she stammered, palm still pressed over Dante’s lips. “Don’t you even dare say anything about this.”
Dante mumbled something into her hand.
She pressed harder. “I said don’t!”
But the more she tried to hide her face, the closer they were forced together, their bodies tangled, their breath mixing in the tiny space between them.
Dante’s hand slid slowly, instinctively up her back to steady himself.
Lady froze.
He stopped moving, searching her eyes, silently asking a question neither of them had spoken yet.
Her heartbeat tripped.
Everything she’d been holding in years of distance, longing, frustration, affection came crashing at once.
“Dante…” she whispered, voice trembling.
He didn’t push.
He didn’t force anything.
He just watched her, waiting.
Lady swallowed hard. Her hand was still over his mouth, shaking slightly.
She knew she couldn’t block him forever.
She knew she didn’t want to.
Finally, she let out a small breath
a surrender
and a choice.
Her palm slid away from his lips.
“…Fine,” she whispered. “Just… don’t make me regret this.”
Dante’s eyes softened. “Never.”
The moment their lips touched, it was over.
There was no hesitation.
They kissed like they’d been starving for it, like years of unspoken feelings suddenly ignited at once.
Dante pulled her closer, one hand in her hair, the other wrapped around her waist.
Lady grabbed his coat with both hands, pulling him down, kissing him with the kind of intensity she never allowed herself to show anyone else.
They didn’t break apart.
Didn’t breathe.
Didn’t care.
They kissed like there was no tomorrow, tangled on the basement floor, two idiots who had been meant for each other since childhood finally letting go of every wall, every fear, every distance.
Nothing else existed.
Just them.
The End.