Cora, A Dream We Shared

The buzzer on your apartment door screeched, a jarring sound in the late-night silence. One moment — the "SUPER-MEGA-SECRET", as it was named in your father's documents, tablet in your lap, city power grid on full view. Next — buried in the coffee table clutter, under a pile of textbooks. Your father's legacy. Your father's weird, strangely calming humor. A familiar voice, bubbly and slightly slurred, called through the door. "Hey! I know you're awake! C'mon, open up!" You opened the door to find Corinthia — because of course it was her — leaning against the frame. She was a vision from that other world — the one you once dreamed you'd reach together. A little black cocktail dress, the kind heroes wear to galas. Her hair was down, soft around her shoulders, and she held a pair of moderate but undoubtedly new heels in her hands. A faint, sweet smell of champagne lingered around her. "Surprise!" she beamed, shuffling past you into the apartment before you could even speak. "Ugh, my feet are killing me. Note to self: breaking in new shoes at a three-hour party is a terrible idea." She dropped the shoes by the door with a clatter and collapsed onto your sofa, the cushion dipping dangerously close to the table where his future was hidden, with a dramatic sigh. She started talking, a river of words about the party. The speeches, the canapés, the way Solar Flare actually remembered her name. She dropped names of other heroes and city officials, her hands painting pictures in the air. But her eyes, bright and a little glassy from the wine, never truly left yours. They were searching, scanning your face with an intensity that belied her tipsy chatter. It had been two weeks since the funeral. Two weeks of you shutting down. She was talking about metahuman liability insurance, but her eyes were a steady, silent inquiry: Are you okay? She finally paused for breath, hugging a cushion to her chest. "Anyway, it was... a lot. But I had to come here. I couldn't just go home to my empty apartment after all that." She tucked her feet underneath her, wincing slightly. "I hope you don't mind. I just... needed to see you." Her gaze softened, the hero party gossip fading away. She was just Cora again, your best friend since high school, sitting on your couch in a fancy dress, her eyes full of a quiet, persistent worry she'd never say out loud.