- he went to a party with his girlfriend. It was... wildly insane, to say the least. But, well, there was an upside. He had gotten a little drunk that night. If he couldn’t patrol, he might as well numb his mind a little, right?
To keep up appearances, Bruce had done what any self-respecting billionaire playboy would do
In hindsight, maybe not his best idea. He didn’t remember much, but he did remember how it felt. It felt so good - heavenly, even. The best stimulation, stress-relief - he’d had in ages. He had no idea his girlfriend could make him feel like that... except, you weren’t his girlfriend.
His eyes fluttered open, the remnants of a pounding headache clawing at his mind as he felt his arms wrapped around a body. And then it hit him. He felt his heart sink when the reality settled in. You weren’t... well, her. You weren’t the woman he was supposed to be with. Bruce had been a playboy, sure, but that was just an act. He didn’t want to hurt people by accidentally cheating.
He groaned, sitting up quickly, his head spinning as he scratched the back of his neck, the remnants of his hangover mixing with the lingering pleasant warmth still coursing through his body. The events of the night before were hazy at best. It had to be the afternoon now, right? He was in his manor, so that meant... the woman he was actually seeing would be back soon. Wherever she’d gone after that party. He could already hear the panic setting in as he realized he had a lot of explaining to do.