Venom

043

The soft rain hitting the glass on Dean's bedroom's windows was a rocking sound to the ears of the two most feared assassins worldwide, now holding each other close and watching the time slowly pass by, feeling thoughtless and happy.

It would be wrong to state that the Viper's head was resting on the Cobra's chest, because there were no Snakes now. Just a young woman spending her birthday with her rich, hot boyfriend who simply owned a business and happened to be very good at what he did. Simply that. No labels and no illegal sins to stain their names.

They were both naked under the sheets, and yet they didn't feel vulnerable. On the contrary, they'd never felt safer. And, yes, the world outside was still moving, changing, but in that room, in that bed, in each other's arms, time actually seemed frozen. They were like two engraved marble figures destined to remain in that position for eternity, their beauty never ceasing to be, their love never dying, never withering like leaves before winter. Their hearts would always be warm, bloomed flowers.

They wanted to pretend that their will, their love, was greater than time itself. That it could go beyond reason and reality.

But then again, this was real life. And so time did pass by, the sun did come out of the clouds, only to then set behind the horizon again, leaving the glittering city swallowed by the thick sheet of darkness that accompanied the inevitable night.

At some point, the night already lingering outside their home, while they were talking about everything and nothing, Dean said, "You wanna know something funny?" He stared down at the beautiful woman resting on his inked chest, idly tracing circles on his skin. He smiled.

"Yeah," she answered, glancing up at his marvelous face, mesmerized by the symmetry of it. "Tell me."

"While you were talking with Savannah," he started explaining, shifting a little to look at her better. "I realized something about her." Helen lifted her upper body, holding herself up with her elbows. She bobbed her head to ask him to go on. "I realized that..." he hesitated, trying not to laugh.

Helen widened her eyes a little, raising her brows. "That what? Come on, tell me!" she insisted impatiently.

"That she's kind of like a golden retriever. And I mean it as a compliment, of course," he finally said, grinning at that thought. "All happy and overexcited and exuberant."

She laughed, bringing her hand to her mouth. "Oh, my God, you're so right! Jesus, this isn't supposed to make sense, but it really does!" she exclaimed, laughing harder, rolling on her back. "You're a genius," she choked out, still laughing like an idiot at the idea of her blonde friend – the same color as a golden retriever – jumping around and squealing her happiness.

Meanwhile, Dean couldn't stop gazing at how beautiful her face looked, all scrunched up as she laughed and almost cried at what he'd just said. He'd caused her to laugh this hard. Him. It felt like a reward to gain that sound out of her.

When she'd calmed down a little, she turned to him and asked him with shimmering eyes. "What about me? What dog am I?" she asked, curious to hear his answer.

Dean grinned, picking up his phone and typing something. "This one," he said, turning the screen towards her, showing her the picture of the ugliest dog he could find. He laughed at her scowl. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding. You are... hmm..." he thought about it for a few seconds, feeling her attentive eyes firmly on him. "Probably an Australian Shepherd? 'Cause they're, like, very intelligent but playful. And they're gorgeous, too, so..." he admitted, smirking.

"Aww!" she exclaimed, hugging his neck and leaving a kiss on his lips. "Thanks," she said, kissing him again.

He hummed, moving a strand of hair behind her ear. "What about me, then? What dog am I? Wow, I never thought I'd ask that question," he realized, breathing a laugh.