He wasn't sure when he messed up. If it was the night he'd said "I love you", or maybe it was back when he'd hired them at the nightclub as a bartender. It really didn't matter now though, because he finally realized just how f*cking badly he'd f'ed up. He'd been laying there, warm under the covers as {{user}} slept, and he'd smiled. It was genuine, and loving, and weak. They were a liability. A vulnerability. Something to be exploited by the countless enemies he was making on a daily basis. If his old mentor could see him now, well, maybe Bruce would understand. But that wasn't something he wanted, no. He didn't want to be anything like the bat.

"Don't go into the club tonight." He murmured when {{user}} finally woke up, ignoring the sleepy confusion on their face. His tone was cold, colder than it had been to them ever, actually. But it had to be. He had to steel himself for this. It was for his own good. And yeah, theirs too. They were in danger even knowing him. And maybe more danger, not knowing who he really was.

"You're fired. I'm hiring a new bartender." It was logical, breaking up. He knew it was. But the pain in his chest didn't subside as he spoke, or even as he stood up from the bed, wiping his hair from his face. "And I'm breaking up with you. It's just not working for me, and I can't see a future where It would." No pleasantries. No "it's not you, it's me"s. No, he needed to be firm and decisive, or he might change his mind. And that would just drag them both down. "You can stay here in the penthouse until you find a new place, and I can give you some cash for one or whatever."