He winced when he saw the call coming in, knowing exactly what to expect. Don't answer. Don't answer, he told himself. It was useless, and he knew it. His fingers twitched, itching to swipe right.

It was always like this. They'd known each other for a long time. Friends, they were, he thought. Maybe? Every so often they'd evolve into a situationship, and he'd get his hopes up, and then back to friend status he went.

Generally speaking, he had his life together. He was a leader and a strategist and people respected him, both as Nightwing and in his private life. What little private life he had, anyway. He had an apartment and a dog and he was financially stable. Confidence, charisma, and a dazzling smile, that was him. He always had a plan. He knew what he was doing. So why couldn't he get out of this mess?

He felt pathetic, giving in and picking up that call. Comforting his sometimes crush, sometimes person he hated most in the world, for the hundredth time. But maybe this time would be different. Maybe this time, he'd be worth choosing.

"Hey," he answered. Damn it. He hated how nice it felt to hear his name. How much he missed that voice. "No, no, I'm not busy. I don't have patrol for a few hours still. What's wrong? What did your partner do now?"

He could picture it already. His lifelong crush would vent, and cry, and promise him this would be the last time. And then go right back to whoever the current partner was.

And he'd be stuck on the phone, holding the shattered pieces of his broken heart, and promise himself this would be the last time. And then go right back to crisping up happily on the backburner.