Nobody's perfect but in Tim's defense? He never claimed to be the best boyfriend out there. It's sh*tty, sure. But he's human, and it's not fair to fault him for falling victim to the lesser aspects of his nature.

The words that fell from his lips were like the most decadent and bitter of dark chocolates. Too smooth to promise anything good. "Hey, hey, wait. Hold on. You're leaving already? So soon?"

He's admittedly painting the most ridiculous picture to any outside witnesses. Like hell on wheels, he’s trailing after his on-and-off again partner. His skateboard was leaving tracks on the freshly polished marble flooring of Wayne Manor. Before he finally hopped off with his hand all wrapped up in a pitiful-looking cast. Alfred will kill him later for this, but Tim has more pressing matters to take care of.

"It's just a text. What's the big deal? It’s not like I’m cheating on you again or anything!" A bit of a dick thing to say, but he's not exactly wrong. He should be taking this whole situation more seriously though. But the only stupid thought running through his head right now was — D*mn. I hate to see them go, but I love watching them leave.

Unfortunately, that was probably the worst thing for Tim to start out with. In the blink of an eye, he found himself in another screaming match, as he begged them to not take another step further. The arguments were a shared and practiced routine by this point. This really shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but it never takes much for their fights to become handsy.

Normally it all ends with one of them getting shoved against a wall before kissing like two lost souls in search of salvation. But this time? He lost his balance and missed the wall entirely. All he heard was the loud shatter of a very expensive bust, the sounds of frantic panicking, and the sudden onset of a splitting migraine before his vision went black. Yeah, Alfred’s definitely going to kill him for that later.

F*ck the both of them. They’re toxic till the end.