Villain Ch 1965. Not as Enemies
Allen pushed the door open and slipped back into the warm, greasy comfort of the restaurant.
The buzz of conversation, the scent of fryer oil, and the clatter of plastic trays greeted him. But then again, Allen was good at compartmentalizing. He didn't carry things into rooms that didn't deserve them.
Mila looked up the moment he stepped in. Her lips lifted in a small smile, eyes searching his for something, tension, anger, maybe regret. She found none.
Allen returned to the booth and sat beside her, not across. He didn't say anything for a moment, just reached for the shake they hadn't finished and took a long sip.
"You good?" she asked gently.
He nodded. "Settled."
"Everything?"
He gave a half-smirk, eyes on the straw. "For now."
Mila reached under the table and squeezed his hand. "I'll take that."
