How do you know when you are in the eye of the storm?

"Clara, I love you."

The engine of a black motorcycle stopped its roar before the tens of steps leading to the entrance of an imposing museum, currently flaunting long banners of the Raphael Exhibition. The other day, those very columns were fluttering violently in the wind and today, the asphalt was still moist from the thundering rain which had only just stopped in the morning, allowing a single inhale of freshness. The skies have momentarily cleared above, revealing a tired, almost grayed blue, but the weather was bordering the line between spring warmth and mid-storm chill.

"And I love you too, Venom," Clara Carita answered with a sigh. She knew damn well there was about to be a 'but' following that half assed confession, like every other morning lately. Not bothering to put any more energy in her symbiote's disapproval and shock of this mission they were going to complete by the end of the day, she focused on leaning back and removing her helmet.

"Good, marvelous, then why are you doing this to us?" He rushed his words.

"Doing what?" Clara breathed in the scent of rain after releasing herself from the confinement of the helmet. Just as thirsty, she exhaled and left the saddle of her motorcycle. Easily said, her preference for two-wheels has endured through the ages, even two decades after the incident which changed the course of her life from sad and poor to selectively poor, sad and accompanied by a talkative alien at all times, even as she goes to the bathroom -perhaps especially then.

"We've been babysitting this man for two days," Venom complained, melodramatic, into her head, for her mind only to hear. "We go to bed early, we get up even earlier. We haven't gone for a proper meal since we got this mission either. I'm hungry for some brains, Clara!"

"And we'll get all the nutrients you need today," she confirmed with a nod, fixing the white earpods into both her ears, though no sound played in them, "but only after midnight, when we would have kept our end of the bargain."

"But why?!" Venom's voice raised in volume and Clara only rolled her eyes.

"Because we may be ruthless, horrible, thieves and killers, but we are also true to our word." Her crimson painted lips curled naturally in a sarcastic poison while she answered Venom with yet the same thing as yesterday, and the day before that, when all this nonsense began, when she crossed paths with the wrong individual.

"We could take him out and take the money if you weren't so scared of him for beating us once," Venom audibly pouted in her mind.

Clara pouted too, but she did not immediately answer, letting a silent break follow instead. It was the smallest moment of reprieve, allowing Clara to bend over and check her hair's state in the mirror. From behind her ear a strand of venom came out and slicked down the messed up side of her hairstyle for her, before hiding his presence again.

"We promised we'd keep him safe for three days, not become babysitters."

Venom sounded like he knew something neither of them seemed to want to address outloud. Clara was aware there was no lying between her and Venom. He knew her thoughts, her feelings, just as well as she knew his. She was actually relieved that though displeased with their tame behavior for the last few days, he did not bring up her feelings, but now that she was proved wrong by this tonality allusion, she grimaced.

"Have any better ideas of truly keeping someone safe other than staying close to them?"

"Just admit it to both of us and I'll let you be," Venom huffed. Yes, he had grown bored and hungry, which was a dangerous combination, but if Clara actually allowed the truth about her choice to familiarize with their task, then he wouldn't have made such a big fuss about a little stomach growling or the change of atmosphere from San Francisco to DC. Venom had always wanted the best for her, because that also meant he was taking care of himself.

"I'm not scared of anyone."

"First of all, I call bullshit, but I will let it slide because that's not what I meant," Venom's fast pace of talking returned in a blink of an eye. "I meant, admit your feelings, it's not like I cannot tell your heart goes-"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Clara interrupted with a shrug, because though aware of all of which Venom was pestering about this morning, she was also quite conscious that this would be her last morning with her task and even without acknowledgement of emotions, the separation will be painful. She was trying to spare herself some of the attachment sorrow from a violent end, much like all her delights. She preferred not watering flowers which would die anyhow.

Clara did not immediately go up the stairs to the museum, but rather allowed her heels to click against the wet pavement while she walked to the right side, where close by to the parking space was a street food place serving waffles. It was always crowded later in the day, but never so early in the morning when the only visitors of the museum were those working there or those like her, who were visiting people and not artifacts.

"One vegan waffle and one double chocolate, please," Clara placed the order to the middle aged woman making these things.

"Oh my- is this what I think it is?"

"Your boyfriend is the hungry type, huh?" The seller finished the chocolate waffle first thing after Clara paid for them.

"Actually, this one's for me and the vegan one is for my... my friend."

"I will pretend I didn't hear that just because you got me my favorite. I'll let you be today."

"Thanks," Clara pretty much thanked both Venom and the woman for the two waffles, with which she'll now rush up the stairs.

"But I need you to know that I would be supportive if you admitted that you like-"

Clara took a little bite from her chocolate waffle and that shut Venom up too. She got a free pass of entering the premises with food by giving the guard a little wink. The latter knew today was someone's free day, so really, the hazard to society won't be roaming around the exhibitions longer than a few minutes.

And anyway, the way he pointed it out, around the corner, he was waiting for her in the main hallway.

Steven Grant. Currently working at the museum's gift shop. Secretly he had always aimed for the tour guide spot.

"No, no, no," Steven shook his head and the curls of his brown hair bounced to both sides of his forehead by the force of his disapproval, "I am telling you, she's very much real."

"Yeah, right," a fellow co-worker, an actual current tour guide of the museum dismissed Steven's boasting, much like everyone else, with a half grin and inner knowledge that this man has lost every single marble. After all, it seemed very unlikely that the clumsy dummy got flirted with two days ago by a real woman, not an old hag either, and they've been going out together since.

Surrealism at its finest!

The man was pretty much laughing in his face and Steven should have gotten used to being the joke of all his museum colleagues, but somehow, his heart still felt every mockery as in the first day, making him stutter and blink a bit more than usual.

Not today though. Today, he watched that grin be wiped off Jonathan's face exactly at the moment when he also heard a familiar voice from behind him, accompanied by clicks of heels which sounded so much louder on this mostly empty hallway

"Steven!"

Steven straightened his back and his smile flickered only slightly. He was experiencing an overwhelming wave of joy every time he saw Clara, her dark aura of beauty, that sharp, but incredibly bright smile, contouring her dangerously charming features. Just like the first night after he had met her, Steven's knees still threatened to buckle and give in.

It was nothing short of a miracle for a woman like her to even want to talk with a guy like him, far less actually enjoy a walk through the park and give him a lift on her motorcycle home. He's been talking about her these two days more than he talked about the exhibition and frankly, everyone believed he has gone insane.

There was no blaming them though. Steven knew better than everyone that he surely must have earned the favors of all the Gods in existence to have someone like Clara walk up to him and smile so very sweetly while handing him a waffle.

"Brought you a vegan one," she winked and then, as if she just noticed he had company, she quickly dismissed Steven's colleague with half a nod. "Hope I am not interrupting."

Steven was left speechless, heart in his throat and on his sleeve all the same.

He flicked a single glance towards Jonathan and half his natural awkwardness got harshly swallowed, pushed down his throat as he dryly popped some sounds off his lips, "Aight then, see ya, John."

"Was he causing you trouble?" Clara asked in a controlled whisper, as soon as they turned their backs on the coworker left in the dust and turned to exit the museum, at the slowed pace of the walk.

"Who?" Steven's voice went up a notch in its pitch, matching the little fluctuations of bounce in his steps. His whole body was trying to level itself so he looked slightly less excited than he really was. "Jonathan?" Now, his voice dropped to an almost just mouthed whisper, looking towards Clara. "No." Finally, he shook his head and stared ahead. "Definitely not anymore either," the faint color of a grin hued his face.

Clara felt compelled to immediately smile at that sight.

"Your heart rate's elevated," Venom pointed out. "Hmm, I wonder why?" His sarcastic inquiry was completely ignored by Clara in this situation. Years of living with her symbiote had taught her this much to try and blend in through the mundanity of life when necessary. It didn't really help that they were wanted in most states, in the Venom form.

That was exactly the sort of reminder she did not need that morning, but she got anyhow, while they sat on the bench on the outside of the museum, to the left, where a little greenery made out the beginning of a park. Then, while enjoying going through the waffle he thanked her a thousand times for at least, Steven pulled out the recent newspaper from his postman-type bag. A brown, ragged thing, in a deplorable state, much like how he would have described his life three days ago.

"Read it on the bus this morning," his British accent came through rather posh while he flicked a tap on the third page of the paper, where he had folded it. The title read in capitals: 'ALIEN STILL ON THE LOOSE, FBI MADE A PROFILE FOR THE MAN BEHIND THE MASK'.

"They still think you're a man," Venom snickered. They both agreed that was a good thing, no one really seeing Clara's face and living to tell the tale about it.

"They use the same picture for this one all the time," she pointed out for Steven instead, laughing it off in a low chuckle as if she didn't even care that she got careless once and got photographed so clearly.

"It's a crazy world out there, Clara," Steven sighed. "That's what I figured out by reading that article in the morning. Aliens, wizards..."

"You don't need the newspaper to know the world has gone mad."

Interrupted by her faint comment, Steven's eyes widened once more and he moved his attention to the side, on her. Then, she smiled and shrugged, "Just move to New York City and you'll see the Avengers at least once a day."

They both laughed.

"Yeah," Steven carried the laughter into a nod, looking back ahead, "that's true as well, but the point I was trying to reach..."

"Oh, you had a point? I thought we were just stating facts."

The jokes carried on with a relaxed ease. That was exactly what Steven enjoyed, unbeknownst mirroring Clara's similar attachment to this casual situation and setting.

"No, yes...," the man stumbled over his words in a slightly awkward tone. He was stressed and all that tension accumulated into his shoulders, making them rise up and draw near his earlobes. "The point is that I thought I was insane too."

"Damn right he is," Venom interfered with his own commentary, which Clara would have immediately slapped back if it wouldn't have shattered completely the moment of confession Steven was building up confidence to continue. She needed every fiber of her willpower on board to remain passive to her symbiote's pokes and just nod patiently and puzzled.

"Insane? How come?"

"Can't believe you're playing dumb right now."

"Well, I've been called all sorts of insane, by myself, by others..."

"Point me their way and I'll punch them into changing their minds," Clara smiled, ever so innocent, because she knew Steven would take this as a joke, when in fact, she truthfully did mean it.

Her comment earned a little laugh from the man, managing to ease some of the stress on his shoulders and having him sigh out his next words, "I'm having trouble keeping track of time. My memory is spotty and people dislike that. I dislike that too, because it makes me miss out on so many things and wind up in such odd situations. It's all sorts of crazy how I lose track of time. I won the lottery once, you know, but I only found the notice a week after it expired, so I couldn't claim the prize, hah..."

"Wow, I didn't know I was sitting next to a lucky past-millionaire."

"I felt less insane since you showed up," Steven finally blurted out, without beating around the bush.

A pang impaled Clara's heart then and it has gotten at least ten times as hard to remain passive to everything. Even Venom refrained from interfering with any comments, though he had been getting ready to remind her that she should at least allude to the poor man that she was going to leave abruptly tomorrow and this was their last day together. Unless of course, she would have dared admit what the symbiote already knew, that she found a piece of safety and humanity with Steven that she had long forgotten she could grasp.

"Wow...," was all Clara mustered out of herself after a long break in which, frankly, Steven went through all the stages of grief, at least twice. It was hard carrying this conversation, but it was a milestone for him that she was even there, for a third day in a row, not yet bothered by his persona. And there haven't been any time losses and confusions either.

To him, Clara was a much welcomed miracle. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away.

So her silence panicked him into raising those hands which until then had limply hung between his knees, and waving them in the air towards her, in an erratic try to erase whatever worry his insinuations might have brought her. "I know we've only known each other for a couple of days, I just wanted..."

"Hey, it's okay," Clara reached out her hand and hesitated before letting it touch his right one and help him lower them down on his knees.

Steven's eyes followed her hand, holding his hand with a sharp inhale first, he exhaled what he truly meant, "I just wanted to thank you. For giving me a chance."

"I'm going to say what you're thinking too," Venom said, catching a sense of what Clara was experiencing just then, "how the heck are we going to leave him now?"

It was true: she got attached to this mission, to this debt, because it came in the shape of a man who she was enjoying the company of. He reminded her of simpler times, of simpler days, making her melancholic of a life she never truly lived. Yes, she might have approached him two days ago at the gift shop with the mischievous idea of just infiltrating herself into his life to properly carry out her end of the bargain, but... she got fooled by his jokes, trapped in this scheme of normal things, which someone of her caliber found as close to a luxury as possible.

So, at least for now, while the sun still shone, Clara chose to avoid the pending approach of them going separate ways and go through with what plans they've settled for the day. This little breakfast stop was supposed to be the prelude to a motorcycle ride to the other side of town, where they'd visit the zoo, however, two minutes into discovering they were both absolutely whipped for suricate, the gray-blue sky turned dark and the loud thunder cracked open the heavens into pouring rain it was hard to escape when there was absolutely nowhere to go within reasonable reach.

"I can form an umbrella for you." Clara ignored Venom's offer.

"If we start running now, we might not catch a cold," she took the man's hand. It was only so much the symbiote could take on being ignored before having had enough and beginning to growl louder into Clara's mind than the thunder roared above.

Steven grasped her hand though and refused to move along, even though her pull was far stronger than he expected such a supple woman to have and he did almost slip from his firm position to fall over. "Have you ever danced in the rain?"

Clara was already looking like she had a dive into the swimming pool fully clothed and Steven was as close to embodying a wet puppy as one can get. "What?"

Without waiting further confirmation, because both of them started chuckling lightly at the ridiculous manner of things, Steven pulled Clara back and into a silly and sloppy dance which tried to imitate, without any music, perhaps the middle ground between a ballroom twirl and a latino step.

They ended up feeling like quite the icicle in under a minute and they've mutually decided to just run out of the zoo, before all animals who took shelter started judging them. The motorcycle ride may have felt short, but by the time she dropped him off at his apartment, not only did the rain cease, but so did the sunset, prepping the world to delve into the darkness of night.

Steven was left hopeful by this day, while Clara sat in the saddle of her motorcycle, pondering with regret.

"I'm sorry I ignored you, Venom."

First came a deep sigh, far before anything else was added by the alien. "You know that if we were to stay-"

"We're not," Clara cut him off. "At exactly midnight, we are leaving. He made us waste our time anyhow, since Steven Grant is obviously safe and didn't need any special protection at all."

"But if we were to stay," Venom insisted anyhow, since she sort of deserved a little salt over the wound, "you do realize you would have had to introduce me to him at some point too, right?"

Clara opened her mouth to answer, but rather timely, her phone started vibrating weekly in the inner pocket of her jacket.

"It's the bloodsucker," Venom announced.

"Morbius?" They haven't heard from him in quite some time and that shock was written all over her face. But then again, Clara couldn't even linger on that shock or contemplate picking up the call, because a weird sensation overtook her and Venom, all the same... a sense, a sensation that something bad was happening.

Clara looked up at the scrawny and old apartment building she knew Steven lived in and Venom completed her worries, his voice merging with her voice as it was spoken, "He's in danger."

She got off the motorcycle, left her helmet behind too and though the front door of the building required a key to get through, her right hand, part of an arm covered in black tentacles of fiber, gripped the handle and forced the way open without breaking a single sweat.

The eye of the storm is all about knowing when the calm is bordered by debris, flying through in the illusion of normal weather. The eye of the storm is the peace, in a lifetime which never proved its existence. And knowing when you are in the midst of it is perhaps the hardest skill to hone, because there's nothing more alluring than the eye of the storm.

author's note:    because act i is all about different dynamics, between Clara and Marc's alters. here's the first aesthetic out of a bunch Raichia was kind enough to make for me:

^^^^ Steven and Clara 💖💕 aka the soft match

Also, how did y'all find this chapter? Think is an okay start... hmmm