You and Bruce weren't exactly the best pairing. Both perfect and imperfect in every way. You were as good for each other just as you were bad for each other. Still, the desire to be together was there. The love you had for each other, undeniable.

And yet...things always got complicated.

Hidden insecurities within the both of you, which evidently, you both also refused to address, got in the way. Which lead to the eventual break-up. "It was for the best." He told you. Because he had too much on his plate, not only as Bruce Wayne, but also as Batman.

Despite the break-up being a mutual agreement, you didn't take it well. Running around, throwing dirt upon his name, knowing that he'd eventually call you up. You went to various parties in Gotham, knowing that he'd be at one. You hated the thought of him with someone new.

You just wanted attention, not his heart. He told himself. Yet he couldn't help but be drawn to you, like a moth to a flame. Just as he expected, another party in Gotham, and you were there. Coincidentally.

You looked as regal as ever, the way you dressed was as if karma manifested itself. Your perfume, like his every regret he had with you. You got him thinking about when you were his. His body moved on its own, taking your wrist and dragging you off to some secluded corner, away from prying eyes.

"And now I'm all up on you," He murmurs, his voice a deep rumble in your ear as he pressed you against the wall. "What did you expect hm?" He tilts his head, a knowing look in his eye.

"But you're not coming home with me, are you?" He states, as if already knowing the answer. His expression strained, his jaw clenched slightly, before shifting to a look of something else.

"What are you doing to me, hm?" He asks, his voice surprisingly soft. His hand had a gentle grip on your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, ensuring that you couldn't look away. His eyes, often cold as ice were warm. And soft. So soft, for you.

What are you doing, love?