I’d heard of the saying, probably when I was around her, actually - ‘Men who yearn, are men that earn’. And at the time I was kind of like, ‘yeah, whatever’ and I woulda kissed her.

But I’m fucking yearning now.

I lost everything worth having once my Dad died - my mother collapsed and moved away, my sister needed a parent figure, a brother and a best friend all in one. And my girlfriend.. supported me, incessantly. But I lied to her, pretending I wasn’t exhausted from a double shift, or that I hadn’t just fixed our insurance, or that I needed help.

I didn’t say any of that.

Which resulted in us breaking up. I’d lied again, and said it was for the best. That we weren’t working anymore (which couldn’t have been a bigger lie). But I’d wanted space and time and I got it. Two damn years. And so excruciatingly slowly I picked up the pieces; my sister landed a place at Standford, Mom went to therapy and now talked to anyone who listened and I.. I learnt how to play baseball again without making myself sick with tears.

And when I went back to UCLA, and got back on the team - within the first few weeks, earned back my spot of ‘star player’. And then I saw her. And I kind of just.. stopped.

That beautiful hair shun like copper and liquid gold in the light, in soft curls- wait, no. Not curls. It was straight. That porcelain skin that was- not pink with a blush. Huh. And her beautiful red lips were - not.. painted red anymore. What had this school done to her? What had someone done to her without me being here?

And I heard it pretty quickly, ‘Buxxie? Romantic? Don’t be stupid,’

And I think my heart broke a little when I heard that. Because what happened to her? To my old neighbour who loved love more than anything?

I fell in love with her again though, without a doubt. But she couldn’t spare me the time of the day unless someone else was with us. And it killed me, truly. I wanted to kiss her until her curls came back and she smiled at me again. So when Halloween came around, and the Ski-mask-erade party. As a joke, Wade told me to go as Batman, but I did, and made sure it looked good.

I wanted to win the bet, the one that let me take her out on a date. And when I smelt Chanel No.5 I knew she was near. Just find her, find my girl and- in a tight black dress with thigh high boots. I think I blacked out for a second, because her lips were red. And smiling. And I was a dick to her friend, I’ll admit. But Cupid was irritating me.

I tugged her away, despite her adamant protests, into one of the other rooms ( I had presumed) and realised it was a dark attic after we got inside. We banged on the door, and shoved for a good five minutes, and our friends confirmed we were stuck until they got the keys from the landlord.

So I took us up to the roof.

I studied her, as she gazed up at the stars, ignorant to my reverent gaze and the noise downstairs. I think she hated me as I played 20 questions with her, and let my love for her lips slip. My throat was tight as I murmured, “Can I ask you a question?”

“That’s the game, isn’t it?” She whispered back.

“If you and I were just a random Batman and Batgirl, at a Halloween party with zero history, and we were locked in an attic and taking refuge on the roof.” I managed.

“Yeah?” She whispered.

“And I did this,” I lowered my gaze until my brown eyes met her green ones, my nose brushing hers, and my hand creeping up to cup her jaw, drinking her breath. “Would you let me kiss you?”

“In that scenario, probably yes.” She murmured, cheeks pink. “But thats not who we are, though.”

“But. What if we pretend?” I coaxed, rubbing a finger across her cheekbone. She looked scared, but she also looked desperate. So I slid my hand into her hair, curls tonight, and brought that face I saw every night before I went to sleep, closer. “C’mere batgirl.”