"I promise I have everything under control."

Finn felt a pang in his chest. The rain had begun to fall harder, but it felt like nothing compared to the weight of her words. Everything under control? Diana had always been the one with control, the one who set the course. But what did she mean by that? She seemed so… different, so much more human in that moment.

"Am I not allowed to see you yet?" he asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it. 

Diana's expression flickered with surprise. She wasn't used to people questioning her, not like that. But then, something about it seemed to amuse her. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, a sound that was rare, almost unfamiliar. It was a moment of vulnerability that caught Finn off guard.

"It's not you who's not allowed to see me," she said, her voice still quiet but carrying a strange mirth.

"It's me who's not allowed to see you."

The words hung in the air, cryptic, and Finn's mind immediately began to turn, analyzing every syllable. His training had taught him to read people, to listen carefully to their words, to understand what was left unsaid. Something was wrong here. Something in Diana's tone — something in the way she said it — wasn't quite right. He looked at her, trying to make sense of it. The little girl standing before him was someone he could never have predicted, someone he thought he understood but was now slipping through his fingers, just like the rain that washed over them both.

"Did you understand?" Diana's voice broke through his thoughts, a playful smile lighting up her face, her eyes glinting with something he couldn't quite place.

Finn hesitated, his mind still trying to piece together the puzzle she had just handed him. He wanted to say yes, but there was something more to it. She wasn't just playing a game, not this time. There was something she wasn't telling him.

"No," he said slowly, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't think I do."

Diana's smile widened, though there was a flicker of something darker behind her eyes. She didn't answer immediately, letting the silence stretch between them as the rain continued to fall.

"You will," she said softly, as though she had all the time in the world. 

"You just need to see things for what they are, Finn. Not for what you want them to be." 

Her words were a challenge, a riddle wrapped in an enigma, and Finn couldn't help but feel the weight of them settle deep in his chest. He couldn't tell whether she was speaking to him, to herself, or to both of them.

But he knew one thing for certain — nothing was simple anymore. Not even Diana.

That day, Finn began to see her differently. She wasn't just a savior; she was a force, a queen in her own right, and she was alone in a way that Finn could never truly understand. She had always carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, even when she was just a child. And in that moment, Finn knew — he would do anything to help her, to see her smile like that again, even if it meant losing himself in the process.

But now, as he lay on his bed, wondering why he couldn't save her, he realized the cruel truth: Diana wasn't like him. She had never been like him. She had always known who she was, what she was meant to do. And he… he was just a tool, a weapon to serve her, and nothing more. He couldn't change her fate any more than he could change his own.

The love he felt for her — if it could even be called love — was a hopeless, silent thing. He had never been able to speak it aloud, never been able to show it in any way that mattered. And now, with every passing day, it only grew more futile.

She had saved him. But he couldn't save her. He wasn't strong enough for that.