“At least let me walk you home.”
My eyes lost themselves somewhere in the back of my head before findingtheir way back to glare at him.
I was so ready to be out of this greasy alley.
“How do I know you’re not going to pull that gun on me when we get to my front door? Are you interested in some stripper whore tonight, too?” I blanketed my statement in as much sarcasm as I could find hiding in my cold, dead heart. Maybe it would turn him off and I could grouch in peace.
“Wh– ” His head fell to the side while his mouth pursed in confusion.
“I see I’ve just reset you.” I gave him a deadpan stare and crossed my arms. “I’m going to walk away now while you reboot.”
If I went now I could probably track down where Axton and his band of dumbasses went.
As I turned and took my first step, he called out, “It’s Bruce.”
I stopped, heels glued to the ground and arms mid swing before turning back around to give him my best ‘the fuck did you say?’ look.
Because, well–
What the fuck did he just say?
He cleared his throat and shrugged, the motion timid yet… playful? “You called me Batman, but I left the tights at home. So, I guess you can call me Bruce.”
My head kicked back of its own volition, an unexpected cackle rang through the alley. He followed my lead and laughed along, and the sound of it…
God, it felt warm, and it made my nerves crawl for reasons I didn’t want to name.
Ew, I recoiled.Stop. Shut it down.
“AlrightBruce. You’ve earned yourself a seat in my Batmobile.”
The way his eyes shined reminded me of a golden retriever whose owner just asked if he wanted to go for a ride.
It was endearing. I kind of hated him for it.
“Even though,” I scolded with a firm point of my finger in his face. “You ruined my plans for the night.”
I turned and began the trek home. He’d have to figure out we were walking the whole way on his own.
“Your plans?” he scoffed, steps shuffling until he caught up. “The one whereyou were about to get raped, or the one where they throw you in a ditch after?”
“No,” I said as we turned the corner and stepped out into the booming St. Louis city streets. “The one where I was deciding whether I was eating the hearts of men for dinner or finding a caboose and a conductor for this train.” My words were accentuated by the hella on-brand crotch chop I followed up with.
His shock was as palpable as my crude satisfaction.
I assumed he was too stunned to respond because he didn’t say anything after.
We fell into step, passing the raucous line in front of Luscious and the neon-smeared puddles lighting up the sidewalk. Sirens wailed somewhere off in the distance and somehow the bustling sounds of city life made it feel more awkward between us. Even if I wanted to say something to the poor bastard, I’d have to scream it to be heard over the noise, and being closer to him was the last thing I wanted.
When it became obvious we weren’t going to the parking garage a block away, he broke the silence. His fingers brushed my shoulder, a gentle warning before he invaded my space and asked, “Are we not taking your car?”
“I don’t have a car. Wayne Enterprises forgot to send my Christmas gift this year.” We locked eyes and I winked. “I must have been a naughty girl.”
His cheeks flushed scarlet and he wouldn’t meet my eyes again.
I thought I would laugh. Maybe poke fun at him or keep spouting my sarcastic bullshit. As I watched him process, though, I didn’t want to do any of those things.
Something about his shy demeanor threw me off balance. It drove my curiosity.
