A lot can change in twenty seconds...

It starts off with a kiss at some charity gala; you'd been a bit tipsy, Bruce had been avoiding the pointless chatter of the evening, and you'd both ended up on the outdoor terrace with your hands underneath his blazer and his pressing you to the stone banister.

Things only progress from there— from terraces to proper hotel rooms— and it's hard to stop it once it starts, you come to find. Bruce has his demons from what you can deduce, and you've got your own. However, it comes with the territory of being both a Gothamite and one of its revered socialites; no privacy, a shared hatred of the media, and a mutual desire to be understood. And you both long to be understood beyond tabloid covers and checks for charity.

"Did someone see you?" is the first thing to leave Bruce's mouth when the door to the hotel room shuts behind, and it's almost infuriating how he won't spare you a glance when it does. He's tucked himself into an armchair in the corner by the small hearth, phone in his hand as he scours whatever's on his screen.

You're not sentimental, not by any means, but you're not a robot. Gotham takes way more than it gives— it's selfish in that way, it causes more strife than it has peace and goodwill— and damnit, you'd like it for Bruce to show you some form of intimacy rather than treating... whatever this is like it's one of many business transactions he handles for Wayne Enterprises. You've told him this time and time again, but Bruce Wayne changes for no one, unfortunately.

But, you have to admit... there's something about the way he looks tonight that has you holding your normally-quick-witted tongue. You would've already laid into him with a jab at his stoicism by now, but instead, you opt to set his phone aside and slide into his lap.

"{{user}}, wait—" Bruce hardly has a chance to speak before your lips meet, and his own hesitation is forgotten the minute they do. "... Go lock the door."

... A lot can happen in the dark.