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looking at you (as you look at me)

Summary:

He can’t help but stare./She finds herself staring, usually when he’s not paying attention, sometimes when he is.

Notes:

Day 27! So after a stressful night and a stressful morning, I totally took the L on writing and posting this. Meaning as soon as this is up I’m off to write the next (and final!!) one! Writing forever y’all.

Work Text:

He can’t help but stare.

When she hovers over him on a beach on an island hidden from the mistakes of his kind. When she rises from a trench and takes back a village the rest of them had no chance at taking. When she encounters ice cream and snow, and when they carve out a night for one another before everything comes crashing down or blowing up.

Other moments, too. Ones that are hazier, a white gown at a gala or similar function, shielding children as armored vehicles skid to a stop across the road, blood oozing from a wound she should never have been able to obtain.

And now, well, it seems the promise of time makes no difference. He still catches himself staring at Diana at all times and in all scenarios. When he first pops up in her life again, fresh from apparently not-dying and completely oblivious to the room, apartment, and city around them, it feels like he spends hours just looking at her, how she’s changed, how she hasn’t. After that, it seems he does little more. He watches as she works the coffee maker or sets up his phone or gets a leaf tangled in her hair on a walk, as she talks about her work at the Louvre and continues to save people and they learn and relearn one another.

She catches him, every now and then. The look he gets in return ranges from curiosity like when they first met, to challenging, caring, and dare he say, enticing.

Now, watching on as she fiddles around with something on the stove, he knows that he’ll spend the rest of his life taking her in, getting hooked over and over and having no qualms about it. Especially when she turns around and their eyes meet, and if he had to live in a single moment forever, this one would be a strong contender.

~~~

She finds herself staring, usually when he’s not paying attention, sometimes when he is.

At first, she’s trying to figure him out, why he does what he does, what half of the things he says mean. She watches him in admiration, in trust, in dismay, in horror, until there’s nothing left to watch.

The next time she gets the chance, she doesn’t immediately recognize it, him, but as soon as she does, it takes very little to see past the incorrect exterior, and she’s all too happy to do so. She watches him discover poptarts and modern art and the advancements that have been made in aviation with a smile on her face and dread in her heart.

But then she sees him wink into existence years later, whole and right and it’s the best sight she’s ever seen, one she continues to see, that she can’t help but stop and observe.

So when she feels eyes on her as she flips a pancake, she smiles and looks back, meeting his gaze across the kitchen. She does not yet know for sure that this chance will be any more permanent than the last two, but she knows they’ll make the most of it regardless, and she’ll appreciate every time she gets to hear his voice, every time she gets to look over and see him looking back.

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