“How do you know that?”

Shit.

You reluctantly turn to see her eyeing you. Confusion was written along her face, and you knew flickers of betrayal and most likely anger would soon follow.

“Let me explain,” They were the first words that you were able to utter. As cliche as you knew they probably sounded to her.

It didn’t take more than a few more seconds for her eyes to widen as she took a couple of steps back.

“You’re-“ She seemed lost on words, and you clenched your jaw and looked away as you knew what was coming. “It’s you.” She states. “You’re the vigilante.”

You couldn’t find it in yourself to outwardly deny the statement. It was true after all. You were the vigilante. The one that had appeared without fail in the papers almost daily for months now.

“Do you deny it?”

Looking at her proved harder than you would’ve ever thought. You couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Look at me.”

You clenched you jaw, fighting the urge - but more so - trying to swallow the shame building in the back of your mind.

Shame that you actually believed you could keep it from her indefinitely.

“Look at me damn it!” Her yell was enough to get you to finally turn in her direction and you reluctantly met her eyes.

Betrayal. There it was, written on her face. You’d dreaded ever telling her, knowing she’d disapprove. But this was worse. Her finding out of her own accord.

“Do. You. Deny. It.” She seethed, taking several steps closer, as if to try and conjure some kind of intimidation from you.

It did little if not make you shake your head.

“No… I don’t.”