[h2][center][color=orange]Archie[/color][/center][/h2][hr]

Nothing and everything had changed that night.

After scavenging some clothing to make it through the city without being arrested for public nudity, Archie looked resolutely into Natalie's face and hugged her, right there in front of the badly damaged, likely to be condemned building. After a moment of surprise, Nat had hugged him back, and they sort of sank into each other's warmth before releasing and going their separate ways: Each to their own apartments.

It was only later, sitting alone on his neatly made bed, that Archie came to regret not seizing the chance, not being brave enough to close that last few inches between them and kissing her right then and there. He almost feels like he's missed an opportunity, that perfect moment when his mind had been vulnerable- but in a good way. Clouded by adrenaline, shock, the realization that he had indirection maimed or even killed people by bringing a [i]building[/i] down on their heads... All that was left was that sense of innocence and nostalgia, and her lips had been so close...

With a growl of frustration, Archie tosses his pillow across the room, hearing it thud disappointingly against the beige walls. After all this time and he's still a coward. He buries his head into his hands and sits up. He doesn't want to deal with the reality that he had almost taken Natalie's head off. He [i]can't[/i] think about it. Instead he considers how, despite her tiny frame, she had enough strength in her to stop him in his tracks. Between drinks Archie's outlook on this revelation flip-flops. On one hand, he seemed to have chosen the right person to... date? On the other, something in him reveled in how powerful he was. The feeling and rush of being the top of the food chain. The [i]apex predator[/i]. It was unnerving to be faced with the reality that there were those that could challenge him.

And the reality that there were those that could [i]win[/i].

But perhaps the most damning fact was that Natalie had seen him now. The real him- not just the one she saw in bed. She saw his aptitude for damage and ability to harm others. Worst of all she saw his capacity for anger. Anger that misfired and often aimed itself at the easiest target around because he had little ability to control it and himself. If Natalie hadn't seen it, she had to have felt it and would see it soon. Ellie had seen it- it had always been an attribute of his that he disliked about himself but could never find the means to [i]really[/i] change. It had reared it's ugly head the most after-

His whole thought process screams to a halt. With shaky hands, Archie tries to pour himself another drink but decides instead to finish the handle. He cant think about that. He's not ready, not strong enough. He downs what's left, feeling his chest burn and muscles swell. He fights it, but darkness welcomes him. Some small part of him is content with the somewhat open ended outcome, whether he turn, pass out, or simply die, Archie had done enough thinking for the night and would rather not do any more at all.

A few days later, he cannot seem to draw it out any longer.

While ambling through his apartment and revisiting old haunts in his own mind for the past two days, there is a knocking at the door that the man promptly ignores. Calls and texts from his boss- which he answers and Natalie- which he doesn't. Reality is setting back in, though and he has to come back at some point. There is another banging at the door now, with a familiar voice that is neither as surprise nor expectation— but, at this point, Archie's starting to question: what is this poor girl seeking him out for? Why him?

Archie was content to dwell on these questions himself, but sat up abruptly when the whole wall began to vibrate. Seems like Natalie was tired of waiting. Having long since abandoned all desire for self preservation, Archie slunk out of his bed. His body felt stiff and heavy, and he hadn't shaved or taken a proper shower in days. He had bags under his eyes, no shirt- the works. Exactly what you'd imagine when you think of a depressed man approaching his prime. He did his best to ignore the banging and stumbled into his bathroom. He ran water through his hands and splashed it on his face in a last ditch effort to freshen up.

Leaving his bedroom was a a dreadful experience, because he was more and more aware of the embarrassment he would feel when Natalie saw his home. Clothes strewn around, an empty handle of whiskey on the counter and uncleaned glasses. It could've definitely been a whole lot worse, but it didn't feel lived it. It wasn't a home. When [i]they[/i] disappeared, the soul of his dwellings had gone too.

He took a deep breath and turned the door handle, opening it enough so Natalie could get a good look at him and hopefully not much else. He rubbed his eyes. God, she was a welcome sight. It took a surprising amount of willpower to stop himself from reaching out to touch her right then- just to see if she was real. A guardian angel sent to rescue him from wallowing further in his own filth. God, he was pathetic.

"O-oh," he began, briefly forgetting how words worked. "Natalie. Hi, hey, hello um," he dragged on. "What- what brings you here?"
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[@Silver Carrot]