Don Layton (/SRS)

Here to stay

    Layton blinked. He stood in the doorway, still as a statue.
"Well?" proclaimed Don Paolo. "Aren't you going to let me in? I promise not to blow up your house. This time."
    Layton still did not budge. His heart hammered in his chest - Don Paolo was here. After losing everyone he cared about, and being unable to connect with Flora... his old nemesis came to save the day. How ironic, that in this moment, the person he had once hated the most appeared to him as a savior. A light in the dark cloud of depression that had consumed his life for months on end.
    Don Paolo quirked an eyebrow at Layton expectantly, and he finally regained his senses, silently swooshing out of the way to let the larger man into his home. It was dark and musty, and dust particles eddied around their feet in shimmering waves. A small part of Layton cursed himself for letting his home get into a such a state - Don Paolo must find him pitiable. But what did he care was Don thought? Layton wasn't the one who'd sworn revenge on someone who didn't even know him for falling in love with a dead girl.
    "I can tell what you're thinking, you know," Paul said, crossing his arms. "Well, shove it. I'm not here to argue with you. Quite the opposite, really... ugh." His statement ended in a grumble as he realized he'd stepped square in some sort of liquid fungus.
    "You surely understand why I find that hard to believe." Layton replied.
    "No idea..." Paul said, examining the bottom of his shoe. "Listen. You're out of your element. Trust me, everyone's noticed. That edgy inspector, his subordinate... hell, even sweet Flora's noticed, and she's probably taking it the worst."
    Layton stopped dead in his nonexistent tracks. "How do you know how literally any of those people are doing?"
    "I spend a lot of time on Facebook," Paul said, "but that's not important. What's important is that I don't have a nemesis anymore. I know our rivalry is basically over because my tragic Claire-related backstory has been revealed, and she past-died or whatever, but I've basically cemented my identity as an evil supervillain at this point. I mean, I can't get jobs because they know me as the guy who tried to run over a 12-year-old with a Ferris wheel. If anything, that just shows my mechanical prowess, but fine, fuck, whatever." He sighed, considering Layton. "If anything, I should be the sad one."
    Layton felt a twinge of anger burst in his chest, very nearly flinching from suddenness of it. He very rarely got angry-not even at Don-or if he did, he never let anyone else see it...but from the way Don Paolo's face glimmered with surprise, Layton knew he let it slip. He did his best to school his expression, but couldn't help the glare he fixated on Paul as he spoke. "If anything, you should be in jail. Why has no one reported you yet since everyone knows you're a villain now?"
    Don laughed, loud and raucous, and turned away from Layton to meander further into his home. He casually strolled over to a book shelf and ran his gloved fingers over the dusty spines of countless puzzle books.
    "Because no one particularly cares, I guess. Or at least, they don't care to know more about me then what they've heard from the news. They know I'm a supervillain, but they don't realize I haven't done any time. Even the cops in this area - I've bumped into them at least twice, Chelmey and his stooge - don't realize I never even went to jail. They're not very smart... not as smart as you, at least."
    Layton's heart skipped a beat. Any anger he'd felt at Dons remark dissipated in a strange sense of euphoria. Don Paolo thought he was smart? He hadn't felt this way in the face of a simple compliment since... oh no.
    Layton pressed his face into his palm to hide what he knew must be his beet red face. He might not be the most outwardly emotional man, and he might not have the easiest time connecting with most, but he'd felt romantic love at least once in his life - with Claire. Every kind word that had passed her lips in reference to him made his heart flutter with joy, and Don's acknowledgment of his intelligence was doing much the same now. No, it couldn't be love. He wouldn't believe it. His direst enemy? His foe? Someone who had once been his romantic rival (though he'd hardly known it at the time)? It was too strange. Plus, the way his heart felt now was different - with Claire's remarks it had sighed in happiness, comfortingly weighted by her kind words, like bring wrapped in a warm blanket. At Don Paolo's words, it had nearly leapt from his chest, beating so frantically in excitement it threatened to shatter his rib cage into a million bloody pieces of bone and flesh. If it was truly love, would it have not felt as it had with Claire? Layton shook himself a little and cleared his mind. He had to focus - Don Paolo, a known supervillain avoiding jail time, was in his home - he had to be brought to justice.
    "I think it's time-" Layton began, only to be cut off with "Can I stay with you for a little while?"
Layton stood still, mouth left agape, words caught in his throat. After a minute all he could manage was "why?"
    Don Paolo turned to look at Layton, his face creasing in an small, sad smile. His voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he said, "as I am all you have now, Layton, you are all I have. I am alone."
    After a few moments, Layton willed himself to speak, though the words that came out were barely a whisper. "I... I suppose that could be... arranged." He brought his hand to his chin. "But Flora..."
    "She'll get used to it. She'll probably enjoy having somebody else to talk to," Paul replied, the uncertainty in his voice gone with the metaphorical wind. "That girl loves me, anyway."
    "You locked her in a barn for a day or so, if I'm not mistaken. But never mind that." Layton gave an uneasy smile. "I believe we have a guest room to prepare..."