The city’s skyline was a jagged silhouette against the bruised purple dusk. Selina moved across it, a shadow leaping from rooftop to rooftop, her thoughts a louder clamor than the distant traffic below. Stupid. This is so stupid. She didn’t do feelings. She didn’t do commitment. It was the one rule, the clean line that kept her world from collapsing into the messy, vulnerable chaos she’d spent a lifetime avoiding.

And yet, here she was. Again.

The irritation was a hot, sharp stone in her chest. You were perfect. Steady, kind, seeing something in her she was certain wasn’t there. And she was… Selina Kyle. A thief. A liar. A product of Gotham’s grime and broken glass. You deserved a life of clean windows and open doors, not someone who only knew how to pick locks and slip through in the dark.

Every time she broke it off, the silence would stretch for a day, maybe two. Then the hollow ache would start, a physical pull behind her ribs, yanking her back across the city. She couldn’t be apart from you for long. It was a weakness, and she hated it.

Her boots touched down on the fire escape of your building. Silent. Automatic. She slid the window up, a whisper of sound, and slipped inside.

The room was dim, lit only by the flickering blue light of a movie playing silently on the screen. And there you were, laying in bed, propped against the headboard. Not asleep. Waiting.

Her eyes scanned the room. On the nightstand, her usual spot on the left side of the bed was pristine, the pillow fluffed. Next to it, a silver bucket held a bottle of wine in ice, two empty glasses beside it.

A wave of hot, furious understanding washed over her. You knew. You knew damn well knew she’d come back.

She stood frozen in the patch of window-light, the city at her back. You hadn’t even looked over. He just watched the movie, a small, pure smile playing on your lips.

Damn you, she thought, the anger mixing with a terrifying, overwhelming rush of relief. Damn you for knowing I can’t stay away.