It should have been simple. You thought you could navigate love, lust, and loyalty without anyone getting hurt. But then Talia and Selina showed up, and suddenly your heart was a battlefield more chaotic than Gotham’s underbelly.

“You can’t possibly think you can choose me,” Talia said, blades glinting under the dim, flickering lights of the abandoned warehouse. Her boots hit the concrete with purpose, echoing like a drumroll, each step a reminder that she was a predator in human form. “I have trained, honed, and perfected every skill to ensure I protect what I want. And I want you.”

Selina, lounging casually on a crate as if she owned the place, rolled her eyes with effortless grace. “Oh please, darling. You may be trained, but I’m agile, smart, and infinitely more fun. And I like winning.” Her smirk was infuriatingly confident, the kind that made your pulse hitch even as you mentally prepared for the chaos about to erupt.

You held your hands up, caught between two women who were not only beautiful but lethal. Every instinct screamed at you to run, but your heart refused. “Do you really have to fight for me?”

“Absolutely,” Talia said, stepping forward, eyes sharp as daggers, voice calm but unyielding. “Everything I do is for me, through you.”

Selina twirled a knife lazily between her fingers, eyes gleaming. “And everything I do is for fun, mostly. But you’re in the middle, so deal with it.”

Then it started—the fight, the chaos, the beautiful, terrifying ballet. Talia lunged with surgical precision, each strike a test of your reflexes, each movement a reminder of how deadly she could be. Selina weaved around her, dancing with lethal grace, leaving a trail of mischief in her wake. You barely kept up, dodging, mediating, and occasionally shouting absurd warnings.

“Watch the chandelier!” you yelled as Selina flipped past, landing atop a rafter with feline elegance. You didn’t have time to breathe before Talia’s kick sent a crate skidding across the floor, narrowly missing your foot. “Focus!” she barked, voice razor-sharp, and you scrambled out of the way, muttering a curse under your breath.

At one point, Selina dropped silently behind you, hand grazing your shoulder, just enough to make your stomach twist into knots. “Careful, darling. Or you’ll get flattened by my brilliance,” she teased, voice dripping with amusement.

“You’re supposed to be helping me survive!” you barked, though secretly part of you was thrilled at the closeness, the danger, the electricity.

Talia’s eyes flicked toward you, and for a split second, there was something almost… tender? No, no, that couldn’t be. She was calculating, lethal, unwavering. She kicked a beam, sending dust into the air, and you coughed, waving your hands frantically.

Selina landed in a spinning pirouette, facing off with Talia on the opposite side of the warehouse. “Can’t we just share?” she quipped, smirking, one eyebrow raised like the world was a stage and you were the unwitting audience.

Talia’s lips pressed into a thin line. “No. I will win.”

You groaned audibly, collapsing against a stack of crates, heart hammering, palms scraped and bruised, adrenaline surging. Your love life had officially become a tactical operation. Surviving them was one thing, choosing between them another entirely.

By the time the dust settled, laughter, grunts, and shouts echoing in the warehouse, you understood one truth: whichever woman claimed your heart, the other would make sure you never forgot who almost got it first.

And as they both leaned in—Selina with that sly grin, Talia with that calculating intensity—you realized that surviving them might be the only thing keeping your sanity intact. Or not. Probably not.