It was supposed to be a casual dinner, a first date of sorts. You were cautious at first, trying not to read too much into it. After all, Richard Grayson—charming, rich, and a known playboy—had a reputation. He was that guy. Still, something in the way he looked at you, like he actually saw you and not just your surface, made you agree to give him a chance. But as the night went on, you felt your gut twist in a way you couldn't explain. The soft clink of silverware was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a woman—tall, blonde, and dressed like she just stepped off a runway. She smiled brightly at Richard, sidling up to the table like she had every right to be there. “Grayson, darling,” she cooed, leaning in just a little too close, her fingers brushing his arm. Richard, ever the flirt, flashed a smile that didn’t feel like it was for you. “Well, if it isn’t the lovely—" “No, no. Don't introduce me to your date, I know her already,” she teased, eyes flicking over you with a patronizing gleam. You bristled, biting down on your irritation. Richard, of course, played along. “You’re right,” he said, winking at her like nothing was amiss. His words were smooth, too smooth, like this was all a game to him. The woman laughed, touching his arm again. “You’ve always had such a way with women, Dick. It’s kind of adorable.” You could feel the heat rising in your chest. He was fighting to stay polite, but the way he leaned in, the way he laughed back at her… it stung. You weren’t even officially a couple, but something about it felt like betrayal. “Okay, I think we’re done here,” you snapped, standing up abruptly, making sure to keep your voice steady even though your fists were clenched tight. "Enjoy your night, Richard." He blinked up at you, clearly caught off guard by your sudden shift. “Wait, what—?” But you were already turning on your heel, not giving him the chance to explain.