~• This should have been a journal entry but I wanted to write a descriptive chapter here. Enjoy. •~

He turned back to go inside after Timothy hung up and saw Charlize standing at the threshold. She must have heard the later parts of their conversation as a soft smile played upon her lips and she stepped closer to him.

"How's Tim doing?" She asked, knowing he couldn't have been talking to anyone else so casually.

"He was about to blow up a lab," he remarked but noticing the shock on her face, he added, "I stopped him though."

"Oh..." She laughed lightly, "Doctor Crane to the rescue."

A brief smile ghosted his face, vanishing before she could see it. "Are you sure it's safe to leave the kids alone in there?"

"Molly's with them," she remarked, "but you're right, we should head back inside. I don't know about the others but the twins seem a lot to handle."

"They are a lot to handle," he replied, recalling their trip to buy Gabriella's gift. "The only way to tame them down a bit is to negotiate with them."

She smiled, "Speaking from experience?"

"Kind of."

By the time they reached the living room, the pinata fiasco had died down and all the kids were unwrapping the candies they had scoured. Charlize went to check on Gabriella, while Jonathan stood by in a corner.

He watched as Charlize effectively rounded up the children as they had to cut the cake. For some miraculous reason, Miguel's spawns—even the twins—respected her authority and didn't make any fuss.

Molly, the eldest, was also keeping the younger ones in line so no unpredictable disaster had wrecked the place yet.

"Jonathan, come on, we're going to cut the cake," Charlize spoke up once everyone was huddled around the table and the cute little birthday girl was about to blow the candles.

"It's alright... I'll just... Take the picture?" He offered, somewhat flustered at all the attention.

"No, forget the pictures. Come here," she held his hand and brought him right in the middle of the group as the twins cheered.

It was all so different for him, even attending a birthday party was something he had never thought he would do. Yet there he was, standing awkwardly as he watched Charlize hold Gabriella's hands over the knife and cut the cake to everyone singing the birthday song.

But that awkwardness wasn't uncomfortable. It was just something new, something he hadn't gotten to experience earlier.

Something... Normal.

He let out the breath he was holding, clapping when Gabriella blew the candles and cut the cake. She looked like a little angel with her pastel purple dress and her radiant features.

He had always thought of children as a nuisance but right then, as he witnessed the bond between Ella and her mother, and the love and warmth they had for each other, he almost felt sad that he never got the chance to build his own life like that.

Charlize did not lead a perfect life, she had her own worries and troubles. But she also had something to look forward to—that innocent little girl who lit up in her mother's presence and was a source of joy and fulfillment to her.

He was startled when Charlize held up a cake piece for him, her hands close to his mouth.

"Come on, it's tradition. Everyone gets to eat the birthday cake," she elaborated, seeing that he had gotten red at the unexpected gesture.

"Unless you have diabetes, then you shouldn't," the twins quipped and shortly after, they dissolved into giggles at their well-timed joke.

Jonathan shook his head, knowing the twins were up to their habit of teasing him. "I do not have diabetes."

"That's great. You can enjoy the cake too. It's delicious!"

He noticed Charlize hadn't retrieved the cake piece she still held for him so he leaned closer, tentatively taking a bite. The flavor dissolved in his mouth with its sweet chocolate and cream coating.

His face was still a deep scarlet that didn't go unnoticed by Charlize. A soft smile played upon her lips but she gave him space, cutting up the cake in pieces to distribute in all the children there.

It didn't take long for the party to come to an end with the unwrapping of presents and Gabriella's fervent gratitude to everyone who brought her a gift. It was clear she loved every single thing, especially the telescope the twins had helped Jonathan select for her.

Eventually, Molly and her younger siblings left as Miguel came to pick them up after his shift ended at Arkham. Jonathan could have gone with them if he wanted to but decided against it as Miguel's car was already packed with his minions.

He had said he would come home by himself later. Though how late it would be exactly was still undecided.

***

When Charlize came out of Ella's room after putting her to bed and storing all her gifts carefully, she saw that Jonathan had cleared up the mess in the living room all by himself. The wrappers from the piñata were carefully discarded in the bin, the table and chairs were in place and everything was organized just the way it had been before the party.

Following the sound of the running tap water, she found him in the kitchen, washing the dishes.

"Jonathan, you didn't have to-"

He spun around, startled, and his eyes without the rectangular spectacles looked even more striking.

"It's no issue," he mumbled, turning back to rinse the dishes while she came to stand beside him.

She felt bad that he had worked so much all by himself, "I thought you must have left."

"I was going to but then I thought I could help," he remarked, his nervousness evident as he dried his hands with a kitchen towel. "Though I should have asked you first... I hope you don't mind me taking the liberty to clear things up... I tried to keep everything exactly as I remembered."

He was fumbling with his words and clutched the kitchen towel tightly, probably to hold in the anxious tremor in his fingers. Of course, she didn't ignore that and reached out, taking his hands in hers.

"I'm sorry..." He mumbled as his ice cold skin was enveloped in her warmth, slowly beginning to thaw out.

"Hey, there's nothing to be sorry for," she squeezed his hands, her thumbs rubbing over his knuckles. "Thank you for literally leaving nothing else for me to do. You've been a tremendous help though I do feel guilty you have done it all alone."

"It's just... I get irritated by the mess," he told her, his hands softening and gently interlacing with hers. By then, he thought it was almost an instinctive reaction from him—each time she held his hands, he reciprocated the gesture. "Tim says it's borderline obsessive. But I just can't help it."

"It's okay. I know many people who are like that," she reassured him. "Often, this trait is linked to OCD but I've met people who don't have OCD and still feel an intense need to keep their environments clean. It's a good habit. Productive even."

"What else could it be if not OCD then?"

She shrugged, a gentle smile playing over her lips. "Several things, apparently. It could be the fact that so far you've always been in clinical settings, tailored to the utmost precision. So you feel the need to keep everything around you clean and organized, just like you're accustomed to."

He hummed in reply but didn't want their conversation to go down that route anymore. Looking down at their entwined hands, he tried to think of something else to talk about.

But he blanked out and even though he didn't mind holding hands with her, at that moment, he just realized they were too close to each other. Whenever she got too close, he found it hard to resist the pull between them.

Even then, his eyes were drawn to her lips—so soft and inviting, like a solitary retreat in an unpredictable thunderstorm.

"Jonathan," those tempting lips moved and her low voice brought him back to the present, "what are you thinking?"

Hands interlaced, he gently pulled her closer and the look in his eyes was guarded as if he was experiencing something rare and wanted to figure it out fully.

"I don't know what I'm thinking anymore..."

"Do you want to talk about it?" She offered, knowing it made him feel better if he shared his thoughts.

The color on his face deepened, "No. Not yet."

"Okay, then what do you want to do?"

That question had multiple answers, each that he wouldn't dare say out loud. His eyes shifted but then locked with hers again as he took in a sharp breath.

"I want to... Know you," he breathed at last, "Fully. Completely. Just like you know me."

She was surprised to hear him say that but didn't interrupt, feeling he had more to add.

His hands trailed down to her wrists, his grip firm yet comforting as he placed her hands over his rapidly beating heart.

"I don't know why I feel like this each time you're close," he mumbled, an uncertainty gracing his features for the slightest of seconds. "But I want to understand. I want to... Give in."

His heart was beating fast and her hands over it made a warmth seep through him that he had never felt before from any other physical contact. Her gaze softened as she realized what he was trying to say, knowing it took a lot of effort from him to just voice it out as it is.

He wanted to give in to her.

He wanted to let her in.

Those words swirled in her head until she put a stop to her scattered thoughts.

"I guess both of us are in the same boat then," she replied, her eyes glazing over ever so slightly as she looked up at him.

He couldn't quite fathom the expression in her brown irises but it seemed a mixture of a gentle longing, an unconditional care, and something else that he couldn't name yet.

However, with his lips gently meeting hers and her hands still resting over his heart, they let all the worries and speculation go down the drain.

Everything else melted away, leaving only the two of them, oblivious to the world as they focused solely on each other.

The rest of the events unfolded in a breeze but would remain solidified in their memory like a vivid photograph. Her room faded, liquifying into a hazy blur, and so did they in the middle of the night with no one to intrude upon them.

He knew he would never forget a single second that passed after that kiss. The way her hands entangled in his hair, the dip in the bed as he lowered her to the soft mattress, and the flutter of her lips teasing his collarbone, his jaw and then his lips.

Jonathan had never gone that far with any other person, scared that he would put too much at stake if he let anyone see him at his most vulnerable. He had always feared letting anyone hold that power over him. 

But Charlize had always been an exception.

She made him feel, no matter how much he hated it in the start.

She made him want to experience all those things he used to run away from in fear that he would fall in love and get hurt.

That night as he held her close and nestled his head in her soft brown hair, his lips tracing the column of her neck while her hands soothingly trailed down his back, he realized that all of his fears regarding relationships were water under the bridge once it came to her.

There was nothing more he wanted than her. And for once, he was certain that she too felt the same.

***