He stepped toward her, bridging the small gap until he could smell the sweet, frantic heat of her skin. He lifted his hand and placed it gently over her head. Without a word, he pulled her into a hug. One hand remained casually in his pocket, while the other held her head against his shoulder, masking her view of the body.
He could feel her heart racing against his chest, the soft mounds of her breasts pressing into him through the layers of their clothing. This was her first intentional kill of a civilian—a trauma that would leave her raw and open.
For a villain, such an act was a Tuesday. For a hero, it was the end of the world.
"N-no... what I did..."
Her voice was a broken whisper, muffled against his shoulder.
