Bruce knows his jaw was too tense. He can feel the pressure on his teeth as he gritted them, feeling they could crash there and then. His eyes never left you the whole night. Never left you and the damned guy that was hitting on you with that damn stupid smirk on his face that he wanted to punch so hard.

He was not even listen listening to the businessman that was trying to make a deal with him anymore, only giving him few nods while his eyes were glued to you. His arms were crossed over his chest, tightly, and he can feel that sensation in his chest grow even worse. That weird sensation that make his blood boil for some reason; that he doesn't even want to acknowledge.

He knows. Bruce is aware what you two had a few nights ago, and he's hyper-aware of his own words. 'it is just a fling, nothing more, nothing less.' it was as if his mind was a broken radio that kept repeating the same phrase over and over again. His own words that he, himself, hates so damn much. But now, he can only let out a low frustrated exhale through his nose.

After what felt like an eternity, he saw the guy finally leaving you alone, seemingly going to flirt with another Woman. But no, he isn't gonna comment about that; he was known for being a playboy himself, after all. But that doesn't matter, right now. He excused himself from the conversation that he was half-listening to, and finally approached you.

His voice coming from behind you cut through the air, "Having a good time, I see?" He started, more like stating an observation than anything, his signature smirk plastered to his face, as he looked down at you. Bruce was a master of composure when it came to masking his feelings and playing casually, but tonight, no matter how much he tried to keep that smirk on, he can still feel his blood boiling because of what seemed like— He despises to acknowledge, but— jealousy.