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ONE | NOT THE BAD BOYS GIRL
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TO BE QUITE FRANK, DAHLIA MCDEEN THOUGHT THIEVES WERE THE LOWEST LEVEL OF HUMAN BEING YOU COULD BE. "Nothing good ever came from a man who was willing to take things that didn't belong to him," her grandmother had told her once. And no matter their differences, Dahlia had to agree with the old bitch on this. (This was basically the only view they shared nowadays.) Bad boys didn't catch her eye anymore—if anything they repulsed her. (Like, come on? Criminals and bad guys are romanticised way too much in today's media—it's honestly disturbing, Dahlia thinks.) If she was ever going to settle down, it was going to be with a nice man who had his affairs in order (and didn't have a criminal record).
So, why has she started off on this tangent? Well, she had caught Pietro Maximoff (the asshole that he is) carrying one of her mother's old dresses out of her and her grandmothers new rental (don't ask what happened with their old landlord) and she was fucking furious about it. She knew of his business—if you could even call it that—but she had never expected to be a victim of it. (Okay, maybe she thought the purpose behind it was pretty sweet and Robin Hood-esque but suddenly he'd lost all those brownie points he didn't even know he'd had. Like, last time Dahlia had checked, she wasn't bloody rich! She'd just been forced to take a second job and pay a ridiculous rent in the nicer neighbourhood because Yema McDeen kept making enemies wherever they moved.) How he had not been shot or arrested for it was far beyond her.
It was a warm morning, the sun was out and it was quite hot but not unbearable—just the way Dahlia liked it. Dahlia had just gotten home from the markets, a bag of fresh groceries were hanging off her arm as she unlatched the gate. She let out a happy sigh as a cool gust of wind blew through her long dark hair. She had been humming a happy tune to herself as she closed the gate behind her—it had been one of those days where she felt good, they were rare and she loved it when they happened (what she didn't love was an evil twin ruining it for her.)
Her eyes widened when she saw him, a familiar violet dress slung over his shoulder and a cardboard box under his arm. She could spot his annoying mop of brown hair from a mile away. Huffing angrily, she tossed her groceries down on the footpath and stormed over to him. She heard something roll out of the bag and while it made her cringe internally, this was more important.
