She woke up to the feeling of being held tenderly in someone's arms and her grey eyes fluttered open to be met with an unfamiliar but rather striking face. The man sleeping beside her had sharp angular features, dark hair with a white streak up front, and a constellation of scars engraving his torso.

She didn't remember how she had gotten there or what had passed between them because she had been just as wasted as he was. The last thing she recalled was talking to him briefly at the bar and then things had just escalated from there.

If she had thought he was pretty back then, she could see merely pretty wasn't a word to do him justice. But then she realized that it was morning already and her brief night of pleasure hunting was up.

She had to leave.

She carefully disentangled herself from his grip, not wanting to wake him up. But it seemed as if he was very sensitive to even the slightest of movements as his eyes fluttered open, a deep oceanic blue with emerald flecks staring up at her.

The color of those eyes was almost unnatural, she thought, wondering once again how she had ended up with him of all people at that bar. She shook herself out of those thoughts as the silence between them was already awkward enough for her to make it worse by staring into his eyes without a word.

"Hi," she mumbled and he let go of her, looking as blank as if he too didn't recall why they were there together.

But then realization settled in, the flashbacks from the previous night registering in his now awake brain. He had brought her to his safehouse and spent the night with her without even asking for her name or looking at her clearly.

He felt stupid at his own impulsive decisions and an apologetic look flickered on his face as he replied, "hi... I'm Jason."

"Valerie," she told him her name and then added, "it's nice to meet you, Jason."

He felt a strange tingle in his cheeks at that remark. They had skipped the meeting and straight up jumped to the part where they had slept together. It wasn't a conventional way of meeting someone and he knew that.

"I was just going to leave," she replied, looking for her clothes that were strewn on the floor, "don't mind me. Sorry I woke you."

He blinked, feeling as if he was still half asleep. She somehow had a very dreamy aura about her, not feeling real even though she was right next to him. He hadn't seen her clearly the last night but right then in the soft sunlit rays, he could see she was beautiful.

"May I use the bathroom?" She asked and he sat up, cheeks flushing red as he felt like a terrible host.

"Of course," he replied but then everything about their current situation was awkward. She was about to step in and close the bathroom door when he spoke up, "hey, will you stay for breakfast? Then I can drop you off wherever you tell me."

She paused, not expecting the offer but then agreed, "alright. Thanks."

After she had locked the door, he got out of bed, picked up the clothes and the sheets, looking around in irritation at his messy room. He quickly cleared it up before fetching an aspirin for his headache.

His head was throbbing from the hangover after drinking too much and since she had been in a similar situation, he filled a glass of water that he placed on the bedside table with a sachet of aspirin for her.

She had been very normal about the entire situation of waking up in an unfamiliar place with a stranger, he thought, perhaps it was her kind of normal. But for him, it was anything but normal and he didn't know what to do.

But then he decided to let things take their own course and took some clothes and a towel to go to the spare room and get freshened up. That spare room was used mostly by Roy when he crashed over at his safehouse and it was even messier than his own room.

He felt the urge to clean it all up too but decided against it, knowing he had a guest over to whom he had offered breakfast as well. The breakfast won't prepare all by itself so the cleaning would have to wait.

By the time Valerie came out of the bathroom, she saw that the room was cleared up and Jason wasn't there. She was considering whether or not to ask him for something to wear over her blouse that had gotten ripped from the neckline probably as a result of last night's drunken rendezvous.

That glass of water and aspirin caught her eye and she smiled, feeling that Jason whoever he may be was a little too considerate. By then, a delicious smell was wafting through the air which she assumed was the breakfast he had offered her to stay for.

A pretty face and a cook, she unknowingly struck the lottery last night, a soft chuckle escaped her as she shook those thoughts away.

Valerie didn't do relationships, Jason wouldn't be any different for her.

He was just another one-night stand that she would probably forget in a few days. 

Slipping her feet into her shoes that were now neatly placed by the bed, she stepped out of the room, looking for the host. The rest of the house was very bare with almost no furniture and that felt quite odd. She followed the delicious aroma and found the kitchen, seeing Jason making scrambled eggs and hot buttered toast. 

She took the stool by the counter and he turned to face her, placing the dish of hot mouthwatering food in front of her.

"You are way too nice than I thought," she remarked, watching him take the seat across from her, "I wasn't expecting any of this."

"I felt the least I could do to make up for bringing you all the way here is breakfast and a ride back," he replied, "but Valerie, I am sorry. I was drunk, I don't know what happened and why I lost control over myself, I just..."

Her voice was that soft lullaby again as she shrugged off his apology, "it's fine. Things happen, there's no use to dwell on it."

That remark made him feel like perhaps it really was a normal situation for her.

She saw that look in his eyes and laughed, understanding exactly what he was thinking. "I don't do this often if that's what you're thinking. And when I do, I just leave. Breakfast and a ride back is a first-time thing for me too." 

There was just something about the blunt way she stated things in her gentle voice that made him question his own self. But then he shook himself out of his thoughts and stood up, "give me a minute."

When he returned, he had brought back a hoodie for her and she took it though she raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"You can keep it," he replied, looking away from her inquisitive gaze. 

A smile played upon her lips as she wore the hoodie even though it was too large on her, it covered the torn blouse fully. Jason didn't say anything to her after that, focusing on his breakfast instead.

If she hadn't seen the scars all over him, she would have believed he was a nice person overall with no secrets to keep and just a very caring soul underneath that tough exterior.

Those scars as well as that pistol in his bathroom cabinet told a different story. But why should she care? It was not like she was going to see him again after that day.

***