She never thought the quiet, ominous, library assistant hiding behind rows of shelves would have friends let alone badass supernatural powers. ••• "You like heroes?" he raises a brow skeptically at my choice. The protagonist on the cover of the comic I had taken from a shelf almost seemed to mock me from their mid-action still frame- 'You thought you could ever be like me? Ha!' "Villains, actually," I snatch the comic back indignantly, and the mysterious raven-haired boy flashes me a sardonic grin. "Never would have thought," he mumbles, and I don't miss the quick up-down scan he gives me with his deep brown eyes. They snap back up to meet mine. "Why?" "I-," I'm caught off guard. "I guess because the powers they possess are most often than not hard earned. Not only that, but they always go against insurmountable odds to reach their goal, even if it may not be moral nor righteous. They stick with what they believe right until the hero lands the last punch." "And what do you believe?" Strands of coal-black hair catch in the afternoon light pooling through the library windows. He traps me with his gaze, but I meet him head-on and do not shy away. The silence we shared couldn't have been cut with anything but a chainsaw. Would my words be enough? "I believe I don't need a hero to save me from the villain."