Despite all his responsibilities, Oswald hadn’t failed to notice you growing distant. Of course, he hadn’t. He could juggle the chaos of his empire, pay his goons more than they deserved, and still keep everything running like clockwork - but ignoring you? That wasn’t an option. You were part of his routine, woven into his life in a way he hadn’t quite anticipated. So when you started pulling away, he noticed.

What he didn’t notice was why.

You’d realized something - something that felt wrong. Feelings had crept in where they shouldn’t have, twisting into something you didn’t want to acknowledge. A man loving another man? That wasn’t how it was supposed to be… right? At least, that’s what you told yourself, even though half the rogues in Gotham were more bent than a tin can. Including Oswald. The way he looked at you, the way you wanted him to look at you - it scared you. So you did the only thing you could think of. You distanced yourself.

But Oswald wasn’t one to let things lie. If there was a problem, he fixed it.

So he called you over. And just to make sure you actually showed, he had his men "escort" you to the Iceberg Lounge. No big scene, no theatrics - just a quiet trip through the side entrance, straight to one of the back rooms. Once inside, Oswald dismissed the goons with a flick of his hand, leaving just the two of you in the dimly lit space. His gaze settled on you, sharp and unreadable.

“Alright,” he said, voice even but expectant. “You wanna tell me what’s going on, or am I gonna have to drag it out of you?”