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allysunny · 5 months

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Pls pls pls friends to lovers with an ass load of pining!!! I love the trope where literally everyone but her can see that he’s in love with her and they’re basically dating without the title. She’s in love with him too but a little more guarded/scared. They have fun traditions like a book club, and Bruce gives her the princess treatment. Pls pls pls, I’d literally love you forever if you wrote this

Obliviously in Love | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 15k words

Warnings: Friends to lovers, pining, two idiots in love but way too blind to see it, Alfred being a very sassy butler (I love Michael Cane sm), possibly OOC Bruce (I've never written for him before), some angst, love confessions, Christmas! and mistletoe, eventual romance of course! Not beta, we die like Harvey Dent.

A/N: Hey everyone!!! Sorry for the delay, but as I told you, uni was kicking my ass. I'm back now, and hopefully I'll be able to write a lot!

So, this is my first Bale!Bruce request, and I'm so excited, but at the same time I'm super, super nervous because I've never written for this man in my entire life? I love this trilogy so bad and even rewatched all the movies as I was doing this, because I wanted to make sure I got him right. Sure, he's a vigilante and a billionaire and a supposed playboy, but he's also just a man, and I sort of wanted to explore that.

There's so many layers to this man, it is insane. If there's anything OOC about him, please do let me know. I swear to god I tried my best, and I hope you like the finished result.

This is my longest word so far - I'm so sorry! It was supposed to be kinda short and sweet but I just ran with it! I don't know if it was for the better or worst, but I hope you guys like it nevertheless. Again, I'm sorry if it's somewhat OOC, I tried to get everyone's personalities just right. I'm scared of not doing these movies justice. I also took some liberties with this - Bruce and Rachel don't have feelings for each other, Bruce often goes to charity galas, etc. Small things.

Also, it's set somewhat in between Batman Begins and The Dark Knight!

Anyways, enjoy!

Bruce Wayne was a lonely man.

Not that he minded, really.

Ever since he was a child, he knew most people were after him and his family for the money. Family friends cashing in favours done ages ago, things as small as having once lent his father an umbrella, women pretending to befriend his mother to accompany her whenever she went shopping, kids at school getting closer to him only to get a peek at the famed Wayne Manor and all the wonders it hid inside.

He'd rather be alone than have such leeches around him, surrounding him like vultures, waiting for an opening.

Kids who'd mocked him would apologise profusely days later, having learned about his family, offering their friendship. Once Bruce made it clear he had no intentions of inviting anyone to his place (he was just shy, really), they'd take back their so called “friendship”.

He was better off without such people.

They were few, the people he could trust. And even those he called his “friends”, he didn't trust completely. His childhood best friend, Rachel, had grown up and busied herself at the DA’s office. She reached out to him after he’d returned after all those years in training, but she was a busy woman, and Bruce had found a new passion himself – patrolling the streets of Gotham dressed up as a bat. They would talk often, but it simply wasn’t the same. They were still friends of course – childhood could link two people – but he’d changed, and so had she. No matter how well they got along, they were changed people.

So, he was back to square one, with no people to truly confide in.

There was, after all, a reason only Alfred knew of his secret identity.

No, Bruce Wayne wasn't a stranger to loneliness.

He preferred the peace and quiet of his home office to the loud ambiences of the parties thrown by pretentious people who wanted to pass by as charitable, and found that sometimes, being by himself was a better option.

Bruce Wayne could count with his hands how many “friends” he had, and how many were simply greedy bloodsuckers trying to get to his fortune.

All but you, though.

Never you.

Bruce met you a few years ago, at the bakery you used to work at.

He wasn't a regular - hell, he didn't usually eat at places like those. Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, dined at the best restaurants - a truth universally acknowledged.

But after being stuck in traffic for about thirty minutes (he'd sent Alfred on a makeshift vacation, having miraculously been able to convince the old man to take some time for himself), he decided to exit the cab and go for a stroll.

It'd been a stressing day, with about a hundred reports coming in for him to sign at Wayne Enterprises, the prototypes for his new motorcycle had proved to be a failure, and he was simply exhausted. A walk would do him good, clear his head.

That's when he walked by the bakery, noticing the colourfully decorated cupcakes and pastries on the shelves. The pastel-coloured frostings seemed far too pretty to eat, and curiosity got the best of him, compelling him to go inside and purchase one.

That's when he first saw you.

You took a while to take his order, quickly informing him you were working all by yourself. One of your coworkers was in labour, the other on vacation. You were baking, cleaning and waitressing on your own.

Bruce was surprised, to say the least. You were taking over each station, keeping calm even under pressure and tending to each task diligently.

When asked who baked the frosted treats, you smiled and told him you baked those yourself. Apparently, it was your first time exposing them, the owner of the bakery finally giving you some leeway to try your own cakes and sweets.

“No one's tried them yet, though,” you said, sheepishly. “People don’t really want to try anything new. They’re scared my food is going to suck. I keep telling myself they’re just scared of change, you know. To keep my spirits high.”

“I hear that,” Bruce replied. If he knew anything about people, it was that they were all terrified of the unknown. “It’s Gotham – what can you do? You bump into lunatics every other day. I’ll have the one on the shop window, the one with the pink frosting.”

Your eyes sparkled then, and Bruce swore he’d do anything to see them shine again and again.

“Really?” you asked, a hopeful smile playing in your lips.

“Absolutely. It looks good.”

You gave him an enthusiastic nod and went to retrieve the cupcake, placing it on top of a small place along with a fork. He paid for the treat along with a cup of coffee and sat down on a nearby table.

Unlocking his phone, he found a few messages from Alfred, asking him if he hadn't burnt down the Manor yet. Sure, maybe he couldn't cook nor clean nor take care of himself that well, but that didn't warrant a fire brigade to go check up on him, now did it?

Burned to the ground, he texted back in a joking manner. All that's left are the red slippers I gave to you last Christmas. Hadn't you lost them? It's a miracle.

Alfred replied just as quickly.

Should've let them burn too. Hideous things.

Bruce chuckled, assuring his trusted butler all was well, and locking his phone once again.

If he looked from the corner of his eye, he could see you, nervously chewing on your lip while you looked at his plate expectantly.

Right, he thought. The cupcake.

Bruce tasted the coffee first, deciding it was far better than whatever he was drinking at his office, and slowly cut the cupcake with his fork (because why would he use his hands). HIs eyes widened once he finally bit into it.

It was good, really good. It tasted like strawberries - not that artificial strawberry flavoured crap he was sure was in most of the food out there - actual strawberries.

The frosting was sugary, but not too much that it became nauseous, and the mix of flavours melted in his mouth.

You’d approached him, breath hitched as you awaited his verdict.

“So?” You asked, after a while, giving him an apologetic smile. “How is it?”

“It’s good.”

“Really?” You graced him with the brightest of smiles, holding onto your little notepad. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Way to go, Bruce. Not corny at all. You’re the man.

Pulling the chair next to him, you sighed in relief and sat down.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me. I was so scared no one was gonna like them.”

“The people of Gotham are idiots if they don’t want to try these.” He took another bite of his cupcake and your smile only got bigger.

“Well, you said it. It’s Gotham. Even something as simple as a different coffee order will get their panties in a twist. Look at how everyone reacted to that Bat guy. He takes out a few criminals and cleans the streets, and suddenly he’s the bad guy?” you inquire.

“Bat guy?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know! Bat guy! They’re calling him the Batman. You’ve probably seen him on TV. Black cape, black cowl, black, well, clothes?”

“Ah,” he nodded, “The Batman, yes. I might have heard of him.” Might have. “What’s his deal anyway? I think the police are calling the guy a criminal.”

You scoffed, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. “A criminal? The guy’s doing a better job than most cops. I think they’re just jealous. And pissed that someone’s not up for briberies.”

Bruce nodded, before turning to his cupcake. You thought what Batman did was right. He brimmed with pride.

“I don’t know – he sounds like your typical Arkham resident to me. Dressed like a bat, running around with a black cape?” It was practically wired into his brain by now, the way he attempted to detach his Bruce Wayne persona from his Batman one. Even if he’d just met you, even if you seemed genuine, he couldn’t help but keep up the façade. “They should probably lock him up.”

“That’s nonsense!” you exclaimed. “He’s the only one willing to do something right for this city. The only one who’s not being compensated by turning a blind eye to criminals like half of the GCPD are. The streets are safer with him around.”

So, he made you feel safe.

Well, not him – Batman did.

Bottom line was, he made you feel safe.

And wasn’t that the reason for all of this? To make Gotham a better place? To clean the streets, to give people some hope in amidst all the chaos and darkness? Wasn’t that his goal – to give Gotham citizens their city back to them, and allow them to live unruled by fear?

“Anyway - I’m sorry, here I am, sitting next to you while you probably want to eat by yourself. Gosh, I’m so sorry. Taking care of the shop by myself makes me feel a tad lonely.” You gave him another apologetic smile (although this one did not reach your eyes), and got up, hurrying behind the counter.

For a few moments, Bruce sat in silence, eating his cupcake, and sipping from his coffee. Good stuff – nothing like the ones Alfred prepared for him, but still good.

When he glanced back up, he watched as you quickly washed some dishes, brow furrowed in concentration. He took you all in, the way you carefully rinsed every dish, ensuring it was stable on the tray nearby before moving onto the next one. Once or twice, you looked up, observing the city through the windows. He saw you sigh softly and get back to work.

To say he was intrigued was an understatement. A big one.

It wasn’t only that you were strikingly beautiful – that helped too, quite a lot – but there was something more to you that Bruce couldn’t really pinpoint and wanted to get to know more of. He was tired of fake people. Of all the fake smiles and fake laughter and fake parties and having to pretend he was someone he simply wasn’t. It was all for the greater good, sure, but hiding behind a mask was draining. No one knew that better than Bruce Wayne.

Before he realised it, he’d stood up, placing his plate and cup on top of the counter. The soft “clack” of it made you turn around and your eyes widened slightly.

“Oh – “ you mumbled. “It’s okay, I usually just do that.”

“Lifting a cup and a plate won’t kill me, I assure you.”

You chuckled and took the dishes, turning to the sink.

“You’re not at all like what people say.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not like they describe you,” you said with a small shrug. A strand of hair fell from behind your ear and Bruce’s hand twitched slightly, perhaps wishing to tuck it back himself.

“So you know who I am?” he asked, a curious smile forming in his lips. He wasn’t expecting to be completely ignorant of him – hell, it’s impossible to be unaware of his existence when you live in Gotham.

“I have a television and friends who love gossip magazines. It’s preposterous to think of a person who hasn’t come across your face, considering it’s slapped in nearly every tabloid ever.” You chuckled, soaking his plate. “And there was the matter of your credit card – I thought American Express was a myth.”

Bruce remained silent, which prompted you to go on.

“Everyone says you’re an arrogant jerk – “ The words come out of your mouth before you can process them, and he chuckles mentally, finding the way you stumbled over your words quite amusing. “I mean, that’s what they say – I’m not saying that you’re one, I just – I’m just repeating what’s been told to me. Anyway, yeah. You don’t seem like that at all.”

“And what makes you say that? We’ve spoken for all but five minutes,” he cocked an eyebrow, eagerly awaiting your answer.

You think for a while, gripping the towel at your hands and shrug again.

“I don’t know.” You turn to him. “Call it intuition, but I just felt like you were being genuine. I mean, you don’t have a bazillion models hanging off your arms – and it looked like you walked all the way here. No fancy sports car like the ones in the magazines either.” Another shrug. “You just seemed like a random guy when you walked in. No fancy titles whatsoever.”

Just a random guy.

Sometimes it felt like such a thing was unattainable for Bruce.

In front of the cameras, he had to be spoiled, rich, reckless playboy Bruce who bought hotels on a whim, hung around with hot models and spent his money on useless luxuries such as cars and yachts. When no one was watching, he had the weight of Gotham in his shoulders as Batman, sacrificing his mind and body every night just to make sure his people were safe.

It was impossible for Bruce to be just a random guy, no matter how much he wanted to.

But the way you said it – like you truly believed it – made him think twice about it.

You weren’t grovelling at his feet. Nor were you pretending not to know him as many others had done, in order to appear mysterious and different, and therefore catch his attention. No, you were just being you – or what he hoped was you. You knew who he was, admitted to seeing his face and knowing of his affairs, but that didn’t stop you from treating him like a normal person.

Just a random guy.

“Or maybe I’m just biased because you liked my cupcakes.” There it was again, that lovely smile of yours.

And you were funny too.

“I’ll admit, that was my tactic all along.” Bruce allowed a hint of playfulness to tint his voice, and your smile widened at that.

“Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Wayne.”

“Please, just Bruce.”

“Alright then. Your secret is safe with me, Bruce.” You smiled and went back to cleaning the counter. (You half expected him to leave without saying a word – why’d a billionaire entertain your company for more than a few minutes? – and were surprised when he stayed.)

“I’m sorry if I’m crossing a line here, but,” he started, “Would you like to join me for lunch one of these days?”

You eyed him curiously and cocked your head to the side, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Me? Really?”

“Exactly you.”

“Why? I don’t exactly belong with your people, Bruce – whoever they might be.”

“I was actually just hoping I’d get some free cupcakes.”

At this, you snorted out loud, covering your mouth with your hand. The other clients in the bakery looked at you with a slightly disgusted face, and it only made you laugh louder.

Once you stopped giggling (and after having wiped some tears from your eyes), you nodded and turned to him.

“Alright, fine. Lunch sounds great. Although – I’m sure you’re followed everywhere. And I don’t really want to be the latest gossip magazine cover.” You crossed your arms. Bruce nodded in understanding. After all, he knew how troublesome the media could be, especially when they were looking for any crumbs that might get them any insight into someone’s life.

(Un)fortunately for him, they couldn’t see past the playboy persona.

“I’ll take care of that – don’t worry.” Was his honest response. “Let’s say it’s easy for me to… become invisible.”

You leaned against the counter, smile ever so present.

“And how are you going to do that? Gonna wear a cap and sunglasses? A wig? Do we get to wear disguises? Maybe you could wear a mask!” Funny.

“I’ll just leave the American Express at home. Do you think that new Pizza place everyone’s been talking about accepts hundreds?” Bruce joked.

Your snort resonated through the bakery again, and the couple that had glanced at you earlier left, shaking their heads and muttering something about “decorum”.

The rest was history.

You and Bruce had become inseparable from that day onward.

Turns out that around you, he could be just a random guy, like he always wanted.

He started going to your bakery more and more, and convinced your boss to let you experiment with your cupcakes however you wanted.

“How the hell did you manage that?” you asked him, mouth open in wonder. “She told me I had full control of the menu! Two weeks ago, she said she didn’t want to try my sweets!”

“I’m very persuasive,” he replied, biting into a banana flavoured muffin – one of your more recent experiments. “It’s a bit chunky. Kind of bland, doesn’t melt on your mouth like the others do.”

“Yeah, I think I went overboard with the flour…” you mumble, writing something down on your notepad. “Anyways, how persuasive can you be? This woman has drunk the same cup of coffee for like, 40 years. She hates change.”

“Let’s just say I worked my regular Wayne charm.”

At that, you rolled your eyes and hit him with your towel but couldn’t hide the smile that graced your lips.

He’d stop by every day after work, eager to try out your new recipes and have a nice chat. It was freeing to have someone he could call his friend, with whom he could have conversations that weren’t about his job, his money, or his other affairs. It felt nice to be able to share things with you, things he couldn’t find it in himself to share with other people.

It took him a while, but he eventually told you things about himself. Slowly.

He told you about his parents, how much he looked up to his father and how he adored his mother. He told you about his childhood, playing in the gardens of his Manor or watching his father fiddle with the stethoscope, hoping one day he could make a difference just like him. He told you how sometimes he would just watch his mother apply makeup in her face, marvelling at how beautiful she looked. Other women of the high society always looked like they had this world and the next worth of makeup on their faces, but his mother was able to enhance all her natural features with a simple eye pencil or some lipstick.

“Makeup shouldn’t be used to turn yourself into something new,” she’d once told him, applying some sort of clear powder on her face. “Just to complement the beauty you already have.”

He found it easy to relate to that. Not the makeup, necessarily, but the whole “turning into a new person”. Batman was no different than him, nor was he someone different. He just brought out Bruce’s biggest desires, to keep Gotham safe.

In return, you told him about your childhood. About your first years in school, your friends and family. You told him about your passions, your wishes. How you wanted to travel the world and read as many books as possible. How you liked to laze around some Saturdays but couldn’t stay home and just had to get up and leave in others.

Bruce found the duality in you quite entrancing.

Some days, you’d be running around the Manor, goofing around with Alfred, and whipping up new recipes with him, the both of you jamming to old jazz that played on the radio – Alfred had been teaching you swing, and you enjoyed spinning around the room with him as lively tunes played.

(In fact, Bruce had walked in on you and him dancing a few times, and couldn’t help but lean against the doorway, watching and you laughed loudly and tried not to fall whenever his butler spun you around.)

It also went without saying that Alfred was over the moon now that his master no longer seemed to be alone. You might only be one person, but the Manor came alive whenever you were in it, and he relished in knowing Bruce finally had someone he could trust besides himself.

At first, Bruce thought of you as a friend. Someone he could confide in, someone to have a good time with and relax. But as weeks turned to months, he found himself developing stronger feelings. It wasn’t about “having fun” and relaxing anymore, it was now about seeing you, making sure you were alright, listening to your every thought and feelings.

He thought it was normal, though. After all, aren’t friends supposed to care for each other and be eager to spend time together? After all, it had been a while since he had friends. At least ones that spoke to him on the regular, that were there for him. This whole thing was new to him. So, he kept these feelings hidden, convinced they were nothing but the norm, enjoying whatever silly activities you engaged in.

You two had, after all, your own little rituals.

You loved reading – always had, and believed to continue doing so until you were dead and buried. And despite not having a lot of time to do so, Bruce did too. So, it wasn’t long before you two created your own little book club along with Alfred.

You would prepare a batch of cookies, Alfred would make some tea, and Bruce would wait by the fireplace in the living room, since there was really nothing he could contribute with but his insight on the books you were reading.

“So, what’d you think?” he asked, taking a sip from his tea, and placing the mug on the coffee table by his feet.

“I think it was terrible.” You replied.

Bruce nearly spat the drink in his mouth.

“Excuse me?!”

“I said what I said – it was a terrible book.”

“I think you’re the first person ever to call The Great Gatsby a ‘terrible book’.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at Alfred, who was intent on hearing whatever you were going to say next. He too was quite curious, but he had an inkling he knew where you were going with this.

You just shrugged your shoulders and brought your legs to your chair, sitting on top of them. You felt at home in Wayne Manor. Bruce had told you to make yourself comfortable after the third time you visited, and you wasted no time in doing so.

“Jay Gatsby is one pretentious motherfucker,” you say.

“Language!” Alfred tutted.

“Sorry – I meant; Jay Gatsby is one pretentious douchebag.” You bowed your head towards Alfred and the butler nodded in acknowledgment.

“Wait – why?”

“Are you kidding me?” All you could do was scoff. “Gatsby is an obsessive narcissist, an egocentric pathological liar who cares about no one else other than himself, and much probably, a psychopath.”

Bruce was perplexed. Very much so.

“I – I – well. I see.”

“And the way he objectifies Daisy throughout the whole book – he doesn’t even love her! He loves the idea of her. He’s a jerk.”

Bruce couldn’t even interrupt you, because you were on a spree, gesticulating with your arms and talking fast.

“But let’s be honest here, it’s not like she loves him either.”

“She doesn’t?”

“Of course not! She’s a shallow, materialistic, spoiled brat and I can’t stand her!” You finished your little speech by taking a bite out of a cookie and crossing your arms.

“Huh. Right.” Bruce said, grabbing his copy of the book. “Well, I thought it was a great book. And I don’t think Gatsby is any of the things you said.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really. I think he is a misunderstood soul.”

You scoffed. Again.

“He’s a misunderstood ass – “

“Language – “

“He is Alfred!”

“Yes, but you aren’t, and I would like to keep this household clean, for dear Master and Missus Wayne’s sake.” He replied casually, giving you that look you’d learn to interpret as “do not test me you silly little baker, for I am British and have the high ground”, and to which you just stuck your tongue out.

Bruce ignored the both of you and continued.

“And, well, I think he truly did love Daisy.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No, no, and here’s why, he did everything for her.”

“Name one thing.”

“Well, he waited five whole years for her. I think that’s rather romantic. He went great lengths to impress Daisy and win her love. The parties, the money, his whole persona – it wasn’t him, but he did it all for Daisy.” Bruce explained calmly. Alfred looked at him with raised eyebrows and just sipped from his teacup quietly.

“Bruce, the whole thing was a circus.” You reached in front of you to grab another cookie and took a bite out of it, missing the way your friend’s gaze dropped to your lips and then returned to your eyes in just a millisecond. “He was just showing off.”

“Perhaps,” Bruce said, “But perhaps he was just trying to be someone worthy of her. I’m sure love can make people do crazy things.” He wasn’t one to talk. It’s not like he knew what “love” was. He’d crushed on Rachel as kids, but that’s all it was, a silly childhood crush.

Perhaps the love he had for his city could count. He did do crazy things for it. Dressing up as a bat was an example.

You nodded your head a few times, pondering his answer.

“Maybe, yeah. But I don’t think so. If he loved her, he should’ve just said it. There was no need for all the show.”

Alfred raised his eyebrows once again. A very you-ish reply. He was enjoying this immensely.

Bruce replayed her words in his head. He should’ve said it. Surely, it wasn’t that easy. Jay Gatsby wasn’t your average man. He was a mystery. He had secrets and things he needed to hide. It wasn’t as easy as just walking up to Daisy and telling her “I love you”. It wasn’t that simple. “You think so?” he asked.

“Well, yeah! Absolutely – I mean, why complicate things?” you replied. “He should’ve just dropped the luxuries, the parties, he should’ve just stopped with all of the eccentric millionaire thing, looked her in the eyes and say, ‘I love you’. Simple.”

"Absolutely! I mean, why complicate things? Just look someone in the eyes and say, ‘I love you.’ Simple.”

“Simple, huh?”

You nodded, taking another sip from your tea – you drank it sickeningly sweet, with lots of honey, while he preferred one or two spoons of sugar.

“Yeah. Simple. No need for the fancy parties, and mysterious acts. Just be genuine.”

“That’s an interesting perspective,” he mumbled. “But sometimes people have reasons for not saying what’s in their hearts. Sometimes they must hide their feelings.” It was true. You didn’t know he was Batman – you couldn’t. He needed to keep you safe. All you knew was that he worked a lot, plenty of times exhausting himself and arriving home super late. It was for the best.

Alfred hummed thoughtfully, which earned him a curious look from the both of you.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Please, do continue,” he said, gesturing for you to go on.

You gave him a weird look but simply turned to face Bruce once again.

“Reasons? Like what?”

Bruce couldn’t look you in the eye now. He shrugged and got suddenly very interested by the coffee table by his feet.

“Fear, maybe. Fear of what might happen if they open up. Fear of losing someone precious.”

You hummed, “Well, in my book, it’s always better to be honest and take the risk. Life’s too short for illusions. If Gatsby had just said it, maybe things would’ve been different. Who knows? But I still think he was one pompous son of a bitch.” You leaned back in your chair with a smug grin and finished the rest of your tea.

Alfred just excused himself and made his way towards the kitchen.

You certainly did bring some life into this once empty house.

You were lazing around in a Sunday afternoon, mindlessly scrolling your phone as a rerun of a show you liked played on TV. Even after a few years, it could still get some laughs out of you, and you’d look at the screen and smile.

All of a sudden, the couch dipped next to you.

Bruce had jumped over it, and landed next to you, sitting down comfortably, as if parkouring around Wayne Manor was something he did on the regular.

“Shit! Holy – Bruce!” You nearly jumped out of your seat, clutching your chest. Sometimes you wondered if Bruce wasn’t some sort of ninja. Being able to hide himself and be so silent wasn’t normal, and at times, to be frank, a little bit creepy.

He acted as if nothing was wrong and turned to you.

“Friday night, charity gala, you and me,” he said, matter-of-factly, as if he’d simply asked you what the weather was like outside.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, the Carringtons are throwing a big party this Friday. It’s supposed to be this big fundraiser. The profits will go for new police facilities. As if those corrupt idiots needed them…” He sighed. “And clearly, Bruce Wayne must attend. And, as expected, he has to bring someone.”

You whined and threw your head back in frustration. You’d been to a couple of galas with Bruce. Most of them were dreadfully boring, filled with fake people whose only purpose there was to flaunt their money and pretend to care about whatever topics seemed most controversial. You hated them. The fake smiles, the gross men leering on you, the women shamelessly throwing themselves at Bruce (not that you minded. After all, you two were just friends. It just made you uncomfortable that they were so forward about his advances. Clearly, he wasn’t alone. He had you. Could they not see it? But of course, you two were just friends. Which meant you weren’t jealous. You just felt sorry for them, and extremely uncomfortable whenever they looked at, spoke to, or touched him. Duh.)

“I can’t go.”

Bruce grimaced.

“Why?”

“I’m busy. Sorry Bruce, I have plans.” What a liar.

Your friend smirked and nudged his head towards the kitchen.

“Alfred checked your schedule – you’re free for the next two weeks.”

Your jaw dropped and you looked back at the kitchen, where Alfred innocently prepared a few sandwiches.

“Damn him! I swear that man must’ve been a British spy!” you muttered, shaking your head.

“So, are you coming with me?” Bruce pressed on.

“I can’t – I have to return some videotapes.” You replied smugly.

Bruce gave you a dry laugh and threw a pillow in your direction, which you failed to dodge.

“Very funny. I’m serious – I can’t go by myself. Look, I know what this is going to sound like, but the Carringtons are only doing this to show off. They don’t care about the police; they want to show Gotham just how rich their grandfather’s money has made them. They’ve been around for years and never once donated – why now?”

“Just because you have to go, doesn’t mean that I have!” you too threw a pillow at him, but as always, his reflexes were on point, and he managed to catch it mid-air.

“Look, you’d be doing me a huge favour.”

“I have literally nothing to wear.”

Bruce gave you a blank stare – that excuse did not stick anymore, not after he’d bought you a different dress for each party he had taken you to (“Think of it as a thank you gift”, he said).

“Just take a model. Or an actress. Or some other celebrity. You know me Bruce, I don’t belong with those people. They’re not my crowd.” You grabbed another pillow and prepared to throw it at him.

“I can’t stand another night of pretending to spend my free time buying hotels and yachts.” Bruce said your name softly and you let your guard down, lowering your arm. “It’s not me, and you know it.” You looked into those chocolate brown eyes that seemed to have soften – those eyes of his always made you melt, and you often found yourself saying yes to his every whim.

You pondered your choices.

He could take a model or an actress. The headlines would love speculating who the hell was Bruce Wayne messing around with this time. He’d have to pretend to be someone he was not for a whole evening – though you didn’t know why; only that, for some reason, he had a reputation to upkeep – and the next morning you’d wake up and seethe as you watched the shots paparazzi got of your best friend and some random floozy slobbering on top of him.

Or, you could go with him. It’d be a pain in the ass to pretend to like all of those people and to interact with those phony idiots who thought money was worth anything and would try their best to snake their ways in Bruce’s close circle. But you’d spend a nice evening with your friend, wear a pretty dress, drink some expensive champagne and be able to laugh at everyone else with him. There were worse fates than that, you were sure.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll come with you.”

Bruce did a small “yes” gesture with his arm, and then grabbed a nearby pillow. “Now, where were we?”

“Oh – OH don’t you dare, Bruce Wayne!” You lifted your arm once again, but before you could throw the pillow in his direction, he’d grabbed your arm and pulled you to him. You fell on top of his body, hands on either side of his head as they bore the weight of your body. Your face was inches away from his, and all you could do was stare into those brown eyes that had you so weak.

You blinked repeatedly, before quickly getting up. Your cheeks were flaring up and you grabbed your phone, standing up from the couch.

Bruce, on his end, was speechless. He watched as you stood up, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“I – I should go. I need to… yeah, I gotta – I gotta do something. I’ll see you later.” You mumbled, and within seconds, you were out the door.

When you were gone, Alfred left the kitchen and walked towards the couch where Bruce was sitting, still silently staring at the wall.

“Is everything alright, Master Wayne?” he asked, although he didn’t really need an answer. He knew exactly what was going on with him. After all, he’d raised this boy like his own son for years.

“Yes,” Bruce cleared his throat, nodding. “Yes, yes, I am. Everything’s fine. How about those sandwiches you were making?” He tried changing the topic, but it was too late.

As Alfred walked back to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but think that he should probably schedule an optometrist appointment for his master. After all, one can’t help but be concerned when such a smart, capable man was so blind to matters of the heart. Almost as blind as a bat, one could say. He’d keep this joke for later. Bruce would hate it. Even better.

Funnily enough, Alfred wasn’t the only one who thought Bruce was blind to his feelings.

In fact, it seemed like everyone could see how smitten the Wayne billionaire was with you.

When you two went out, he would look at you with this sparkle in his eyes, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

You walked into the party, arm linked with his, and it was as if the whole world stopped to look at you two.

Everyone knew about your existence – it wasn’t the first time you accompanied Bruce to parties – Bruce Wayne and his close friend. Friend. Yeah, sure. If the glances he stole were any indication, the Wayne heir was nothing but completely enamoured with you. In fact, it was incredible how much he’d changed. His whole attitude changed when he was accompanied by you. No longer was he the reckless billionaire who drank too much and humiliated himself, but the elegant man who liked to engage in conversations (as long as the topics were interesting) and had a heart of gold.

Yes, everyone seemed to spot the change in demeanour whenever you two were together.

“Bruce!” A voice could be heard from the distance, and Rachel Dawes made her way towards the both of you. She smiled and spoke your name once she noticed you were the one accompanying her childhood friend, before hugging you. “Oh, it’s so nice to see you here!”

You hugged her back and gave her a genuine smile. You’d met Rachel before more than a few times – she was a lovely young woman with a great sense of justice, and you were sure she was going to do great things for Gotham’s wellbeing. You also enjoyed her company greatly, since she had once told you all of the embarrassing stories about Bruce’s childhood. “I had no idea you were going to be here!”

“Yeah, well,” she looked around and smiled, seemingly looking for someone. “I was just as surprised as you were.”

Then, a very familiar face emerged from the crowd, calling out “Rachel!” and walking to her side.

“There you were – you left so abruptly; I thought something was wrong.” The man said, before turning to look at you and Bruce. You took him in. Dirty blond hair and a familiar cleft chin. You furrowed your eyebrows, before it finally clicked in.

“You’re Harvey Dent – I’ve seen you on TV before,” you said, and he smiled in acknowledgement.

“That would be me, yes.” He put forward his hand, and you shook it, introducing yourself.

Harvey then turned to look at Bruce, extending his hand to him.

“And you must be Bruce Wayne. Rachel talks about you a lot.”

Bruce shook it and nodded.

“Hopefully she hasn’t disclosed everything about me, otherwise I’d be ruined.”

The two men chuckled, and you took that opportunity to look at Rachel. You looked from her to Harvey, opened your mouth and wiggled your eyebrows, earning a laugh from her. Rachel moved to your side as Bruce and Harvey spoke about Gotham and took your arm.

“Well, well, Miss Dawes. Is there anything you’d like to tell us?” you asked in a hushed tone, still wiggling your eyebrows up and down. “How’d you meet?”

“At work. Harvey is running for district attorney. One thing led to another, and…” she trailed off, and you nudged her torso with your arm.

“And now you’re shagging future attorney Harvey Dent. Look at you go!”

Rachel covered her mouth with her hands and supressed a scoff.

“You’re unbelievable, and I never want to hear those words coming from your mouth ever! It’s just a casual thing, we’ve only gone on a few dates. Besides, you’re the one attending a charity gala with Gotham’s most eligible bachelor. I think every woman in this room has you on a death list.”

“Pftt,” you waved your hand dismissively, “You know we’re just friends. Nothing for those women to be jealous about.”

“Ah, I see. You’re just friends.” Rachel nodded, feigning seriousness in her voice.

“Yes, we are. Stop with that face!”

“What face?”

“That face you always do,” you motioned towards her face, nearly pouting. “We are! And that’s the end of the discussion! I don’t even know why we’re talking about my non-existent relationship with Bruce when you’re probably going to be First Lady someday – this is huge.”

Rachel swatted you with her purse and returned to Harvey’s side before giving you a cheeky smile – it felt nice to have a girl friend you could talk to in these scenarios. Usually, it was just you and Bruce, which, however pleasant, wasn’t the same thing as having a girl in there. You were happy to catch her off work – Rachel seemed like a different person at the office. While there, she maintained a strong and serious attitude, you were happy to see her when she had no work business to worry about and could simply be a girl with you.

“Well, I’m afraid I’ve wasted too much of your time, Mr. Wayne,” Harvey said, shaking Bruce’s hand again. “It was a pleasure to meet Rachel’s oldest friend.” He then turned to you, “And a pleasure to meet you too, Miss.” “Likewise,” you replied.

Bruce nodded.

“Of course. I’ll be sure to send you a nice bottle of Chardonnay when you’re elected district attorney,” he said in his best careless billionaire voice, and nodded at Rachel before the two walked away. “Who would’ve thought,” he muttered to you, beckoning a butler who was carrying a tray of champagne glasses close to him.

“Well, I think they’re lovely together,” you smiled and grabbed a glass, smiling once the liquid hit your lips. Champagne was always welcome.

“Well, you think everyone looks lovely together. You’re a sap.” You laugh at Bruce’s comment and hold onto his arm. He brings you close, absentmindedly, and the two of you walk around the party, occasionally being stopped by the average donor.

After eating some entrees and mingling with the guests, soft music started to play and ring throughout the room. You looked up, pleasantly surprised, and tugged at Bruce’s arm.

“Come on,”

You didn’t have to tell him twice – he was growing tired of pretending to share the same interests as these vile people. He wanted a respite from keeping the charade up, so he gladly took your hand and led you to the middle of what had become the dancefloor. You two weren’t the only ones in there, a couple more pairs having decided to dance.

Bruce gently held your waist and pulled you close to him, his other hand coming to lift yours.

“Thank you,” he spoke, ignoring the way everyone’s eyes glued onto the two of you.

“I could see you were about to actually punch that man right in the face,” you chuckled, looking at the person in question. He was a middle-aged man who could probably stand to lose a few pounds for the sake of his health, who was trying to talk Bruce into introducing him a couple of models. You just had to come to the rescue, because Bruce actually looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Thankfully, he was a good actor and simply promised the man he would surely hook him up with the woman of his dreams.

“I think it goes without saying I’m not introducing jack shit to him. I’m pretty sure he’s assaulted his female employers. I should have someone investigate it.”

“My, my. Bruce Wayne, ever the White Knight.” You smiled, and you could swear that for some minutes, the entire world faded away as the soft melodies of Camille Saint-Saëns filled the air.

He snorted at that but did not say anything.

The two of you kept dancing. You found looking into his eyes extremely hard, so you avoided his gaze, looking straight ahead at behind his shoulder continuously.

“I still haven’t told you how beautiful you look tonight,” Bruce finally broke the silence between you two, and you returned his gaze. He’d bought you a floor-length black John Galliano gown with delicate lace trim and a bias cut, and you had actually screamed into your pillow once you saw it – it was far too pretty.

“Thank you,” you reply, brushing some invisible dust from his shoulders. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Bruce lowered his voice and looked you in the eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“I mean it. You do look stunning.”

The two of you stopped dancing for a few moments, and you were unable to look away from his almost magnetic gaze. Time seemed to stand still, and you gripped his shoulder tighter, to make sure you were real, and he was real, and this whole ordeal was real.

He was just about to speak again, when you were interrupted by a loud, shrill voice.

“Mr. Wayne! Oh, what a pleasure to have you here!”

You quickly pulled away from him as Catherine Carrington, a woman in her mid-40s with long, blonde hair approached the both of you and placed two loud kisses on either side of his cheeks. You looked away, trying to figure out how to properly breathe again, and fanned yourself with your hands.

Harrold Carrington, Catherine’s husband walked to her side and shook Bruce’s hand, far too interested in talking to you. You stifled a laugh – whoever was in charge of his wig had tone a terrible job, because it was clear as day his hairline was receding, and the hair he had on was fake.

“Ah, you must be the mysterious friend everyone has been talking about. We’ve seen you around a few times, haven’t we Miss? But I don’t think we’ve properly met – I’m Harrold Carrington. And may I say, you look splendid this evening.”

None of the Carringtons seemed interested in their spouses. Catherine was fawning over Bruce, and Harrold’s eyes lingered far too long on your exposed collarbone and cleavage. So much so, that you turned from him uncomfortably. Bruce was quick to notice your discomfort, and pulled you next to him once again, wrapping a protective arm around your waist.

“I’d appreciate it if you could keep your eyes on the lady’s face, as opposed to her chest, Mr. Carrington,” he said with a smile that you could only identify as fake, and that smug voice he used when he was feeling particularly cocky.

All of the colour drained from Harrold’s face, and he stuttered, trying to form a coherent sentence – which he failed miserably. “I – I, well – I wasn’t – I would never! I – I was just –“

Bruce faced Catherine once again and gave her another fake smile.

“Lovely party Mrs. Carrington. Very nice of you to raise money for the Gotham Police Department. Very charitable, indeed. And the champagne is just splendid. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I heard someone was eating caviar, and it’s not a real party without it, now is it?”

Effortlessly, he brought you away from the couple.

Once you were out of sight, he looked at you with a worried expression.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah – he was just creepy. Shit, I hate galas.”

“Tell me about it,” Bruce sighed, before shaking his head. “How long have we been here for?”

“About two hours.”

“How about we ditch at three? I think it’d be a crime to abandon this party now. Especially when you look this dazzling.”

He was giving you that look once again, the one you couldn’t quite decipher, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

Bruce, on the other hand, was freaking out. You looked lovely, even more so than usual. He’d been dancing with you, and all was perfect, and then that hag Catherine had to go and ruin everything.

Was it too much to ask for a quiet dance with his friend?

Friend.

The word tasted wrong in his mouth.

No, you weren’t his friend. At least not anymore.

He thought about your dance moments earlier. How you’d held onto him, far too shy to look him in the eye, lips slightly parted and eyes sparkly. He thought of how easily you leaned into his touch and how he liked having you by his side.

He thought of how much he enjoyed spending time with you, how much he laughed in your presence, how free he felt when he was with you. He could be himself, something that he felt he couldn’t be anywhere else. You were his safe haven. You were everything.

It was that night Bruce Wayne realised he was in love with you.

One time the both of you went out to do some Christmas shopping.

(“In November?” Bruce had asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Christmas sales have already started! And I bet everyone’s going to start super soon, so we need to get to it!” Was your reply. Bruce could only sigh and agree, like he always did when it came to you.)

Besides, it was the first Christmas you’d be able to spend together after 2 years of friendship. The last two had Bruce way too busy with his company (at least that’s what he told you. In reality, he had been tracking down a few criminals who’d been wreaking havoc days before.

The main point was: after two years of being friends, you would finally get to spend Christmas together. It’s not that you’d suffered those Christmases without him; you had friends and family. But you wanted to spend the holidays with who you now considered to be your closest friend.

Bruce, however, wanted to spend Christmas with the woman he was in love with. He hadn’t found the courage to tell you – not yet. He was afraid of ruining things, of hurting you. So he kept silent, relishing in the friendship the both of you had.

Approaching the mall, you had a small list in your hand, filled with names of everyone you wanted to buy a gift for. He had around five people in mind, so he did not need all those preparations.

Once you were in the crowded mall, Bruce would hold you close to him, shielding you from everyone who might bump into you. His hand would respectfully be in the small of your back, and if he needed you to get out of someone’s way (people who refused to look up from their phones were the worst), he would slide it to your waist and gently pull you towards him.

You’d stopped at a beauty store, wanting to buy a new skin care package for your closest friend at work – heavens knew how badly you needed her to keep you sane – so you’d asked Bruce for his opinion on a myriad of perfumes.

“See, I like this one, but I think the smell is a bit too strong,” you mumbled, squeezing some of the hand lotion’s sample on your hand and applying it there. “Here,” you reached your hand to him, and nearly all the air was sucked out of your lungs when Bruce carefully reached for it, holding your pulse in his and bringing it to his face. His lips nearly brushed against your skin as he took the smell of the lotion in, and at least a dozen of women who were shopping nearby swooned.

Bruce let go of your hand just as gently and you blinked a few times, trying to wake up from your little trance.

“It is a bit strong, yeah. You mentioned she’s got a sensitive nose, so maybe something less floral?”

You were quick to nod and walk away, afraid he’d notice the way your cheeks heat up and your pupils dilated.

Once you turned away from him, focusing on the other hand lotions, he sighed, still feeling a buzzing sensation in his hand. It was as if he could still feel your skin against his, and he had to shake his head to return to the task at hand. Control yourself.

At a clothing store, you held up different sweatshirts next to him, asking for his opinion on a gift to your father. He gave you his earnest opinion, and insisted on carrying all your bags once you were done.

“Bruce – come on, I can carry them. I’m not a baby,” you’d told him, sighing in exasperation.

“Just allow me. You’re still picking up things left and right, it’s better if I carry these for you.”

You two checked out a jewellery shop – you’d been saving up to buy your mom a pair of earrings, and while you busied yourself looking through rows and rows of pairs, looking for the one you had your eyes on, Bruce quickly excused himself, and turned to a shop helper.

Approaching the counter, he placed the delicate pair of pearl earrings next to the cashier, glancing around just to make sure you weren’t paying attention to him.

“Would you like these to be gift wrapped?” The cashier asked.

“Yes please.”

Bruce continued glancing around. You too were speaking to a shop helper, pointing to the delicate pair of gold earrings you wanted to get.

“A gift for a special someone?” The cashier asked once again with a polite smile. Bruce wasn’t dumb. If he were anyone else, this would be a regular, standard question asked by shop clerks to keep a friendly conversation going. But he’s not just anyone else. He’d noticed the way the woman had glanced him up and down with a wishful expression and could bet all his money that if he were to reveal more than necessary, then she would turn to any gossip magazine as soon as he was out the door and spill whatever nonsense she thought it was going on.

He gave her a curt nod, paid for the earrings (now neatly placed inside of a box and wrapped with a pretty red ribbon), and returned to your side, hiding the box inside his jacket’s pocket.

“Did you find them?” he asked once he got to your side, and if it were anyone else, you would’ve jumped, but by now you were used to Bruce. You seemed to lean into his side and smiled, looking at the pair of hoops the shop helper brought to the counter.

“Yeah – she’s gonna love them! I was super scared they’d be sold out Bruce, I’ve been working my ass off to get these. I’m so proud of myself,” your smile was contagious, and Bruce found himself bringing you closer to him by the waist and giving you one of his super rare smiles. Once again, every woman within a five-mile radio sighed, basically eating him up with their eyes. It was no secret Bruce Wayne was a handsome man – not to mention Gotham’s most eligible bachelor – but to see him act so affectionate in public was a completely different thing, and it was clear more than woman had gotten jealous just looking at you.

(Their boyfriends were not happy with the way said women ogled Bruce up and down.)

“I’m proud of you too.” Bruce replied. It was true. You were a hardworking woman, and he beamed with pride at your accomplishments.

Of course he didn’t tell you he bribed the store to keep the earrings stored until you came along to buy them – he wasn’t about to let someone snatch the thing you’d been working so hard to get – but it didn’t matter. You’d earned it.

You grinned at him and reluctantly broke free from his hold.

“I’m gonna go pay for these, meet me outside?”

He nodded and walked outside of the store, hand coming to pat the box inside of his pocket. They’d look incredible with his mother’s pearl necklace, that’s for sure.

He carried your things to the limo, and upon arriving to the Manor, he distracted you with promises of hot chocolate and marshmallows, before handing Alfred the little white box and telling him to keep it a secret. The rest of the evening was spent with the two of you discussing presents, drinking your hot chocolate, and watching some Christmas movies as the wood in the fireplaced cracked piece by piece, enveloping you both in a cozy warmth.

Later that month, the two of you were sitting at an expensive café, having a few treats, and talking about your Christmas shopping. Although the place was very fancy and its prices had shocked you, so had the quality of their food.

“This is garbage,” you said, eyeing the cupcake on your plate. “Holy shit, who baked these? It feels like I’m chewing on a brick!”

“Yours are much better, yes,” Bruce agreed, taking his own cupcake, and looking at it carefully. “And that’s this awful taste?”

“I think she added lemon juice, but it doesn’t work in this recipe, not at all. You’ll see, it’ll basically nullify the sweetness of it, and the whole thing is just gonna taste like one sour cupcake. Gosh, people pay their rent’s worth of money for these?”

Bruce could listen to you talk for hours on end. The way your eyes lit up when you found a topic you were interested in, and how genuinely passionate you were about your hobbies. Your genuineness was something he praised and found himself looking for more and more. In fact, one of the reasons he’d taken you to this specific café was because he knew the cupcakes sucked – he’d eaten there before. He just wanted to hear you talk about them.

An old woman approached your table, wearing a Santa Claus had on top of her head, and a few Christmas related pins on her waitress apron.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked with a smile.

“Oh, no thank you, we’re fine.” You replied, returning it «.

“I see. Well, I’d just like to say, it’s a real gift to see such precious young love.” The woman gestured at the both of you, and your cheeks flared up. “This city can be so dark and gloomy sometimes; it warms my heart to know that love still prevails on top of all. You two are such a lovely couple.”

“We’re –“ you coughed, trying to clear your throat. “We’re not – we’re not a couple.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah, we’re just – we’re just friends!” you were quick to correct her and refused to meet Bruce in the eye.

Oh, right. Bruce. He was staring at the old woman, completely lost in thought. This woman thought you two were a couple. Did you look like it? And why had you shut her down so quickly? Did you hate the idea that much? Would it be so terrible if the two of you were to date?

“Oh, I am so sorry then, my apologies!” the waitress was quick to apologise. “It’s just – you two look rather lovely together. I’m sorry for the intrusion.” She walked away and you covered your cheeks with your hands, trying to mask the sudden blush that had overcome you.

Bruce, on his end, was still staring at where the woman had been. Did you two look like a couple that much? He wouldn’t mind it. No, not really, he wouldn’t mind being a couple with you. He could finally drop that stupid playboy persona, be one step closer to his real self. He could protect you and always keep you safe and closer to him. He wondered what it would be like to wake up to you every morning and be greeted with that dazzling smile of yours. Would you ask him for five more minutes in bed? Act all grumpy until you had your morning coffee? Would you drag him out of his bedroom to start the day and be productive?

“Shall we go?” you interrupted his thoughts, placing your now empty mug on top of your plate. “It’s gonna get dark soon, and I wanted to see the Christmas lights.” Your voice was lower, still tinted with some nervousness. Bruce snapped out of it and nodded, walking towards the counter to pay the bill.

While he was gone, you made your way to the bathroom and splashed some water on your face, to wake yourself up and hopefully cool down.

Once you were ready, you walked out of the café, strolling the streets of Gotham.

Sometimes it surprised you how pretty your city could be. Sure, there was chaos and corruption, and most of the times it was a fucking shithole, but it was still home, and the tall buildings and bright lights could still take your breath away.

You and Bruce walked side by side. You were still far too nervous to look at him, so you kept your distance. Bruce, respectful as ever, remained by your side, refusing to touch you until you gave him permission. As you were looking at the prettily decorated shop windows and houses, he could see the way your body shivered and trembled.

That’s what you got for refusing to bring a jacket because, “your outfit looked far too pretty to be hidden behind a coat”.

“Cold?” he asked.

“N-no. Not at all. I’m fine. I told you; these tights are really warm.” Your voice was trembling, and your teeth were close to chattering. A part of Bruce wanted to see you fight for your case just a bit longer, while the other just longed to envelop you in his arms and keep the cold away.

“Oh, really? Because I’m pretty sure the tips of your fingers are turning blue.” He said with a smug expression.

“No, I’m fine.” You replied, nodding eagerly. “I told you; I wouldn’t be cold. I’m not.”

Bruce just nodded and kept walking by your side.

After a few minutes, it was far too obvious you were freezing. Your body was trembling, your teeth were chattering, and he was sure he could see your lips becoming a dark shade of purple.

Wordlessly, Bruce began to remove his jacket.

“What are you doing?” you asked, turning to him in confusion.

“Preventing you from catching pneumonia,” he replied, handing it to you.

“N-no, T-that’s not n-necessary, Bruce. I’m fine. I’m n-not cold. I’m f-fine! See? Just p-peachy.”

Bruce had faced criminals and villains and corrupt cops, and they’d all lied to him at one point or another. None was as bad as you.

He gave you one of his “I told you so” looks, and you nearly pouted, spreading your arms as he helped you put the jacket on. Almost instantly, you felt warmth spread through your body and sighed in relief. Bruce also removed his scarf, and carefully wrapped around your neck, hands lingering on your face for longer than necessary when he brushed a few strands away from it.

“Better?” he murmured.

You looked at him through your lashes. He was close. Very close. So close, that you could hear your heartbeat hammering on your chest. You gave him a soft “mhm” and he returned to your side, keeping a respectful distance from you.

“Aren’t you cold?” you asked him. It made you feel terrible – it was freezing in Gotham, and you’d taken his only sources of comfort.

“I’m fine – believe me. I’d much rather have you not freezing on me.” He replied.

“Are you sure? It’s very cold.”

“I promise.”

You nodded and continued your silent stroll.

Suddenly, while crossing the street, some careless motorbike showed up out of nowhere. You shrieked in surprise, and froze in your place, closing your eyes in fear. A pair of strong arms pulled you away, and you collided with a strong figure. Bruce was holding you close, cursing the driver under his breath. Once you looked up to you look at him, he turned to you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking all over your face to make sure you were unharmed.

“Yeah – just – that dickhead –“

“I know. It’s like you can’t trust anyone with a license these days.” He muttered. It hurt to part from you. It was like you were made to stand next to him, body slotting perfectly with his. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, giving you space, but was surprised when you held onto his arm, like you usually do.

You looked at him, silently asking for permission, which he granted. You scooted closer to him, and he smiled.

The two of you continued walking through the streets of Gotham, making comments on the architecture, the lighting, the people. There were small stalls selling all sorts of trinkets and goods, a sort of small Christmas market, and you smiled as you saw kids running around with balloons or cups of hot chocolate. It was dark and gloomy, but once again, Gotham could be so very beautiful.

“A pretty flower for a pretty lady?” An old vendor asked, extending a pretty rose in your direction.

“Oh, no thank you – “ you mumbled, shaking your head, but Bruce was quicker.

“Thank you.” He nodded, taking the flower in his hands. He handed the man a bill (and surely a big one at that, because the man’s eyes widened, and he stared at it for quite a while before thanking Bruce profusely.)

Bruce turned to you and handed you the flower.

You weren’t sure if it was from his jacket, or if your whole body had simply decided to set itself on fire. You took the flower and brought it up to your nose, the intoxicating smell of it filling your senses.

“Thank you,” you said, still looking at it. No one had ever bought you flowers.

“A pretty flower for a pretty lady,” he repeated the old man’s words, and continued walking with you by his side, but not without hearing the old man say something about how “beautiful it was to see love bringing people together”. You didn’t seem to have heard it, but Bruce did, and he smiled.

It was Christmas Eve, and you were in Wayne Manor, having dinner with Bruce and Alfred (whom he begged to take a seat at the table with the two of you). There was wine and plenty of food, and the three of you had a great time, sharing funny stories and anecdotes and just enjoying each other’s companies.

You had promised your family to visit them the day after and were dead set on spending the Eve with Bruce.

After dinner, you sat near the fireplace, talking about books, movies, and whatever silly topic that came to mind. You, with your legs comfortably spread on the couch, Alfred on the big chair, and Bruce on the floor, by your feet. To him, that was the closest he had to spending Christmas with his family, and wondered if his parents would’ve enjoyed your company. Of course they’d have, he thought, you’re perfect.

After the three of you had played a few games (Alfred had won at charades, his Batman impression making you laugh for five minutes straight), you stood up announcing that, since it was almost midnight, you wanted everyone to open their gifts. It was more about you giving yours away than opening them, really – you were quite proud of the gifts you’d bought and wanted Bruce’s and Alfred’s reactions as soon as possible.

“Alright, alright, alright, me first! Here – Alfred, these are for you!” You handed him about five different packages, and he looked at you with a fond expression in his eyes.

“You didn’t have to, Miss.”

“Well, but I did. I need to spoil my swing partner, don’t I?”

He smiled at your antics and slowly opened the packages, one by one. Inside, there were a few woollen sweaters with matching-coloured ties.

“They’re really warm, you know. And it’s real wool – the quality of these is amazing! And you can even wear them without the ties, for a more casual look. What do you think? Do you like them?” you asked eagerly, hoping to get the response you wanted.

“I do, Miss. Thank you. These are lovely.”

You beamed and hugged him tightly. “Promise? There’s a receipt somewhere if you don’t like them – but I just thought they looked so cool and they were so pretty and the fabric is so soft, and – “

“Yes, Miss. I promise. Thank you. These are splendid.”

“Well, since we’re spoiling Alfred, I don’t really want to get left out.” Bruce joked, before reaching for an envelope sitting on top of the Christmas tree (decorated by the both of you on the first of December, thank you very much.) He handed his butler the envelope and sat back, awaiting his reply.

“So, you’ve finally decided to get rid of me.” Alfred said, looking at the contents of the envelope intently.

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just a few weeks.” Bruce replied smugly. “If anyone deserves a vacation in this house, it’s you.”

When Alfred didn’t reply, Bruce raised an eyebrow, worry starting to pool in his stomach.

“Alfred? Is everything okay?”

Alfred sighed and shook the envelope in his head.

“A ticket to the Maldives, Master Wayne? You’ve outdone yourself this time.”

Bruce grinned, nodding. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do indeed, but, if I may express a tiny complaint…”

“Of course, Alfred. You can always speak your mind.”

“You’re a bit of a cheapskate, Master Wayne.”

You burst out laughing, nodding along with Alfred.

“A cheapskate. I see. And why is that?”

“After all I’ve done for you, three weeks of vacation seems a bit stingy, don’t you think?” Although he was saying this, he had a smile playing in his lips. Clearly none of it was serious.

“It’s not like I can function without you Alfred. Can’t have you enjoying too much time off, now, can we? You might remember just how fantastic life is outside this place and never return. You’ll be here forever. You’ve changed my diapers when I was born, and you’ll change them when I’m old and gray.”

“I knew I should’ve never accepted Thomas Wayne’s job offer back then.” He muttered. But he then turned to Bruce and gave him an earnest smile. “Thank you, sir. This is very thoughtful of you.”

After that, it was his turn to give you your presents. He gave Bruce a (very expensive) bottle of wine, that he expressed “wanted it to be opened on a very special occasion” with a wink – which made Bruce clear his throat and change the subject. You received a burgundy scarf he’d brought from his latest trip to England, from a shop you’ve expressed your admiration for a few times.

“Holy – oh my god! This is incredible, I mean, look at it!” You hugged him tightly and wrapped the scarf around your neck, not caring that it was far too warm inside the Manor for you to require a scarf.

“Well, now, it seems to be getting rather late for me,” he announced, standing up.

“Oh? You don’t wanna stay here until midnight?”

Alfred shook his head.

“I’m afraid not, Miss. I’m quite tired. I’ll be retiring for the night.”

“Alright, Alfred. Goodnight.” Bruce said with a curt nod.

“Goodnight, sir. Goodnight, Miss.”

You’d turned away to investigate your scarf once again, you missed the look Alfred gave his master, which made him sigh and look at you fondly.

“Alright – now it’s my turn! I need to go get your gift, just wait in here!” You were quick to stand up and disappear into the hallway. You’d been gone for a few minutes, so Bruce went after you, wondering if everything was alright. He bumped into you near the grand staircase at the entrance, and you jumped.

“Christ – you need to stop scaring me like that!” you reprimanded him.

Bruce chuckled, and you shook your head.

“Anyway,” you mumbled, presenting him with a small black box. “This is for you. I know it’s not nearly as fancy as the ones you already have but – well, it’s Christmas and it’s the thought that counts, is it not?” There was a certain nervousness in your voice, Bruce could feel it.

He gently took the box from you, and opened it, revealing a fancy looking black Hugo Boss watch. His fingers trailed the screen and the expensive leather strap.

“I know you have a ton of those, but I thought, hey, this one’s special, this one’s from me!” Before you could keep on with your nervous ramblings, Bruce brought you close, hugging you tightly. You smiled against his chest and wrapped your hands around his torso. This was nice. This was comfortable and familiar and nice.

“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair, and you almost melted at the cadence of his voice.

“You’re welcome.” You replied.

When you two pulled away, something caught his eye. Looking up, he realised the both of you were standing right underneath a few branches of mistletoe. You followed his eyes and blushed furiously, your whole body heating up.

Bruce said your name and you turned to look at him, feeling as light as a feather.

“Look, I – there’s something I would like to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Bruce thought of all you’d been through together. Laughter, tears, giggles, and scowls. You’d had great times, reading books, walking around, spending time together, and bad times, when he blew you off, choosing Gotham city at night over you. He thought of all he told you, all he trusted you with.

“I just wanted to say that I really enjoy spending time with you,” he began.

“I enjoy spending time with you too.” You inched closer to him, hands still on his chest.

“You’re amazing, and I’m so glad to have you in my life. You see through my charade. I can be myself when I’m around you.”

He thought back on the charity gala, on you wearing that lovely black dress, dancing with him. He thought of holding your hand and pulling you close to him to keep you safe. He thought of your sparkly eyes and delicate lips, and how much he could stare into the former and how badly he wanted to kiss the later.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I guess what I’m trying to say is…”

He thought about how badly he wanted to always be with you. How much he’d love to wake up next to you, feel your skin against his, be able to shout from the rooftops that you’re his and his alone. He thought about dropping to one knee and seeing you walking down an aisle wearing the prettiest of white dresses. He saw a lifetime with you, side by side.

“What I’m trying to say is…”

He thought about Batman.

How he’d have to cancel date after date after date, prioritising the black suit over your relationship. He thought of you getting worried sick when he got home late, frowning as you looked at his scars and bruises. He could see it vividly, how you’d cry and beg him not to leave you, to choose you over the city for once in his life, and how he’d leave you to cry all of your tears as he put the cowl on.

“Is…”

“Is…?” You pressed further, eyes dropping to his lips.

He saw argument after argument, saw you screaming at him, accusing him of not loving you. He saw nights spent in the couch, because you were far too angry to let him in your bed. He saw your sad eyes welling up with tears in the middle of romantic dates after he’d told you he had to go because the bat signal was shining in the night sky. He thought about someone finding his identity and going after you first and foremost. He saw you tied up in some random chair, mouth gagged and tears running down your streak as some criminal tortured you to get to him.

He saw your lifeless body inside a coffin, skin devoid of colour, eyes closed, to never open again, and how he’d spend the rest of his life hating both himself and his mask.

He thought about Bruce Wayne, and Batman.

And he realised you couldn’t possibly love both.

“Is… You’re a great friend. Thank you.” He squeezed your arms in a comforting manner and walked away, leaving you wide eyed and speechless under the mistletoe.

Later, he’d gift you the first edition of your favourite classic novel and wish you goodnight with a polite nod of his head, going up to his bedroom.

Before he went to sleep, he locked the pearl earrings and his mother’s necklace inside his drawer.

Things were awkward between you two. Your friendship with Bruce was still there, but he was sort of distant. Your weekly book club meetings still happened, and he still dropped by your café to drink coffee and try new cupcake recipes, but everything seemed to have changed after Christmas Eve.

So, you tried to move on with your life.

A few weeks after Christmas, your bakery started to work with a new supplier, and you quickly befriended the delivery guy, Tom. While you started to look forward to his visits more and more, it still did not feel the same as when you were with Bruce, and you felt guilty for hanging out with him.

One day, Bruce came in for his regular cup of coffee and a cupcake and found you smiling and giggling at a guy at the counter. His first reaction was to punch the guy to next Sunday, but thankfully he calmed down and approached you with a polite smile on his face.

“Hey there,” he greeted you, not sparing Tom a single glance.

“Oh! Hey Bruce – this is Tom. He’s the delivery guy from the new supplier.” Tom’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he realised the Bruce Wayne was standing in front of him and tried his best to shake his hand nonchalantly.

“I’ll be right with you,” you told him, and continued your conversation with Tom.

Fucking Tom. Who even was this guy?

And why were you smiling so much? What the fuck did he have that Bruce didn’t?

Most likely, it was what Bruce didn’t have that make a difference – a mask, a secret identity, a promise made to Gotham.

After you were done chatting with the delivery guy, you placed a cupcake and a cup of coffee in front of Bruce, but instead of sitting down with him, you returned to the counter and resumed your conversation.

Bruce cursed himself mentally.

On Christmas day, after you’d left, Alfred had asked what happened.

Bruce told him everything. How he couldn’t be with you because of Batman, how he couldn’t risk your safety and life, how he pushed you away.

Alfred lectured him, telling his master that his mask was going to be the end of him, but Bruce refused to listen and went to the batcave to busy himself and get his mind off you.

As he looked at you now, radiant and smiling at someone else, he realised that he might’ve made a big, big mistake.

It wasn’t long until you two started dating. It was casual, nothing too serious, but Bruce still seethed on the inside. He found himself staring at you for longer, hands lingering on yours whenever he touched you, and his heart ached more and more whenever he saw you with Tom.

You seemed so happy with him.

Seemed.

Because the truth was, you weren’t doing as well as Bruce thought you were. Tom was a nice man, yeah, but there was something off about the whole thing. He was good looking, yes, and very kind. He listened to you and made you, his priority. He was a dream. But there was just one problem, he wasn’t Bruce.

When you two went out, you often found yourself wishing it was Bruce’s arms wrapped around you. When you two went shopping and you decided to go try on a few hand lotions, Tom simply bent over to sniff your hand, and you were brought back to that time last November when Bruce held you with such gentleness, you nearly melted.

Tom always reminded you to bring a jacket, and you did so diligently, unconsciously put off by the idea of wearing his. He’d once given it to you, and it just wasn’t the same. He didn’t wrap it around you securely, he didn’t brush the hair away from your face, he didn’t look at you the way Bruce did. He was an amazing guy, and you liked him.

But that was it.

Still, you kept your relationship going, hoping your feelings would change.

After all, it’s not like you had ever felt anything for Bruce, right?

He was just a good friend.

You enjoyed spending time with him, sure, but that was it.

So, you looked forward to every time the two of you hung out. And your heartbeat quickened every time he was near. You couldn’t get your eyes off him. You easily got angry or upset whenever other women looked at him, and even more so when he entertained their advances. You longed to have him hold you in your arms.

But that was all normal, right? It just meant you were great friends.

You mind goes back to Christmas Eve, and the way he hugged you. Standing under that mistletoe, there was nothing you wanted more than to kiss him. You remember looking at him and wishing so bad that he would lean down and press his lips against yours. Just friends don’t kiss.

And that’s what you were to him – just a friend. He’d say that himself.

So why were you so heartbroken?

Looking at an empty coffee mug, it suddenly hit you like a train.

You were in love with Bruce Wayne.

And he didn’t love you back.

So there was no need to feel guilty over going out with Tom, right? Even if you didn’t particularly want to kiss him and didn’t want his hands around you when you two went out. Even if you were reluctant to introduce you as “your boyfriend” and had more than once ditched him to stay home and rethink your life decisions.

Even if when the two of you went out on dates, you barely paid any attention to him, focusing on the times you’d sat down with Bruce over a drink and just laughed your asses off and spoke until the crack of dawn.

Even if you didn’t really love Tom.

Yeah. No need at all.

On a lovely April afternoon, you were helping Bruce do some spring cleaning. You were both wearing some casual, old clothes, and helping Alfred to make sure the Manor ended up spotless.

You were currently in charge of the spacious living room, carefully placing picture frames on top of the coffee table so you could clean the fireplace. You looked at the framed memories. Pictures of Bruce as a child, or with his parents. There was one with a young Bruce standing on his father’s shoulders, and another one of him hugging Alfred.

You smiled to yourself. What a cute kid, he was. He seemed so happy.

There were pictures of him with Rachel, knees scraped and clothes dirty from the mud, and some with you. Your gaze lingered on those.

There was one framed selfie with the two of you, faces full of flour and whipped cream. You’d been teaching him how to bake, but the whole ordeal ended up in a small food fight – which he’d won. You chuckled at the memories of trying to teach Mr. “I’m far too rich to cook because I have people to do it for me” how to measure cups of flour, and break eggs. You’d held onto his arms and guided him to make sure he got the measurements just right.

Something inside of you flared up the memory.

The other picture in your hand had been taken at the Carrington gala.

You were wearing your pretty (and extremely expensive) black dress and were smiling at the camera. You were leaning into Bruce’s touch, who was holding you close by the waist. Instead of looking at the camera, he was instead looking at you.

Somehow, tears had clouded your vision.

How you had loved dancing with him. Being held by him as if you were the only person in the world he cared about. Your fingers traced his figure in the picture, and a tear fell down your cheek, falling on top of the glass.

“Hey, are you done with the fireplace?” You jumped at the voice behind you, and dropped the frame, which fell on the floor and broke into a million little pieces.

“Shit!” you mumbled, quick to crouch and try to pick up each glass shard. Bruce was quicker though, and made his way towards you, pulling you away from the soiled floor.

“No, get away from this, you might get hurt. I’ll call Alfred and – “ he looked at you and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Tears were streaming down your face, and you couldn’t look away from the mess you had made. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you choked back a sob. “I’m so sorry – I broke it.”

“No, no. It’s okay, we’ll just get a new frame.” Bruce assured you, hands resting on your shoulders.

“No – fuck – it’s not okay! None of this is okay!” You cried, and he pulled you against his chest, running his fingers through your hair.

“It’s just a frame. We’ll get a new one. And we’ll clean the floor.”

You cried in his arms for a while, until your sobs subsided into quiet sniffs. Bruce didn’t really know what to do, so he stood there, holding you tight. He’d never let you go.

After a while, you broke the silence.

“I – “ sniff, “ – I broke up with Tom,” you mumbled.

Bruce’s expression was one of surprise. Really? Why would you though? You two seemed happy.

“I… I don’t really think I liked him…” you continued; voice muffled by his chest. “I think I was dating him simply because I wanted to forget you…”

What?

He looked at you, but you refused to face him, face pressing harder against his chest.

“I’m such an idiot, Bruce… Everything was fine, and then I went and fell for you… And now our friendship is going to be ruined, and I broke your picture frame…”

Bruce held you tighter. You fell for him?

“I’m sorry, Bruce… I’m so sorry – I promise I’ll fix this. I – I’ll stop loving you and we can go back to being friends, and – “

Bruce used his thumb to lift your face up and looked straight into your eyes. There was nowhere to run. You were trapped, and so was he.

“You love me?” he asked, voice as soft as you’d ever heard it.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words out loud, so you opted for nodding.

“But – Tom –“

“Tom was a distraction,” you sniffled, “And I feel terrible about it. But I didn’t really like him. I just wanted to forget about you.”

“You love me,” Bruce repeated, using the same thumb to rub circles on the skin of your cheek. His gaze fell on your lips.

He had two choices. He could let you go once again. He could walk away from you, tell you he didn’t love you back. He could watch as you eventually moved on with your life (this time for real) and protect you from having to choose between Bruce Wayne and Batman.

He could give up the love of his life forever.

Or he could kiss you. He could tell you how he felt. He could trust you with that darker side of him, and you two could figure it out along the way. He could take it easy. He could bare his heart and finally tell you how you felt.

Two sides of him fought against each other, but ultimately, one was stronger.

He bent down and took your lips in his, sliding his hands up to your face to cradle it.

You were surprised to say the least, but pleasantly so. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back with vigour, tears of happiness falling down your cheeks. How you’d wanted this. And now, it was finally happening.

When you two parted for air, Bruce refused to let you go, standing mere inches away from you. His nose nuzzled yours, and he whispered a quiet, “I love you.”

You don’t know wat surprised you more. That he’d say it, or that you said it back.

“I love you too,” you smiled, pressing yourself against him and kissing him once again.

Bruce wrapped his arms around you, attempting to convey all his feelings for you in a simple kiss. All the longing, the love, the desire, the friendship. Everything he couldn’t find the words to say, he poured into that kiss. And you smiled, accepting all his confessions, all his words.

“Well, it was about time, don’t you two think?” Alfred said from across the room.

You jumped and just stared at him, embarrassment overtaking you.

“Yes, I’m talking about you two. Do you know how bothersome it was to see you moping around and sulking because you hadn’t kissed her on Christmas Eve, sir?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I – You wanted to kiss me on Christmas Eve?” you turned to Bruce and gave him a soft smile.

“I did. I really did. I’m so sorry I didn’t.” he replied, before looking at Alfred. “Could you please leave us alone now? I don’t really recall paying you to mind my business.”

“You don’t pay me enough not to, sir.” The butler replied with a cheeky grin and that “I have the high ground, for I am British and old and wise” smug look of his. “I am glad to see the both of you are finally getting along. If you need me, I’ll be cleaning the Manor, since no one in this house does it.”

You laughed and faced Bruce once again, cupping his cheek.

“I thought you didn’t even like me. I mean, on Christmas…”

“I’m sorry about Christmas. I really did want to kiss you, it’s just… There are things about me – things you don’t know. And I’m afraid of telling you because I don’t want you to get hurt.” He replied, hand coming up to touch yours.

“You can tell me anything Bruce, you know it. Right?”

He nodded, and hugged you close one more time.

“I do. And I love you. I really mean it.”

Bruce could hear the smile in your voice when you replied.

“I love you too.”

For once in his life, Bruce Wayne did not feel completely alone. On the next room, he had his trusted butler, who had raised him as his own and acted like a parental figure all these years. And in his arms, he had you. The love of his life, the woman he loved the most in the world.

Holding you close to him, he knew he could trust you, no matter what. He knew you’d accept him, because if anyone would, it was you. And he would cherish that forever.

Later that night, a small white box was taken out of a locked drawer and placed inside of his pocket.

Bruce led you to the same spot you’d been on Christmas Eve, handed you the small box, and after carefully placing the necklace around your neck, finally kissed you.

There was no way he was ever letting go of you.

A/N: And that's it! I hope I was able to do both this trilogy and this request justice, I was really worried about it. I wrote most of it in one sitting, you have no idea, I just kept on writing and writing and writing and when I realised it, it'd gotten kinda long and out of hand.

I also hope this Tom character wasn't useless? I mean, he sorta was, he was just a plot device, but I hope he didn't feel rushed or whatever.

Anyways, I hope you guys liked it! I really do!

Have an amazing day, everyone! <3

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #nolanverse #the dark knight fanfiction #the dark knight fanfic #nolanverse fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader

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saiidahyunie · 4 months

Text

just come kiss me (and bite me)

vampire!myoui mina x doctorstrange!reader ; fluff

synopsis: it was supposed to be a normal gala event that you were attending at, the evening was going swell until you found yourself in a situation with the party’s host.

wc: 8.3k

warnings: cursing ; blood (mentioned only once) ; that's all really :)

pt.2 pt.3

a/n: this spinoff is set in @miinatozakiii’s detective!jihyo x spiderwoman!reader au!!!! her whole series is a work of art!!!

keep your eyes peeled for a small guest appearance ;-)

—

the constant beeping of the ekg machine and the patient’s soft breathing keeps you engaged, prying in between the layers of open tissue and bone before reaching the designated area that was focused for today’s operation.

“scalpel please.” you command as an aiding nurse hands you the sterile tool, swiftly cutting into the patient’s small outside layer of tissue that was surrounding the brain, checking the monitor above you that reflected the location of the tumor that was protruding just in the back of the patient’s head.

with your steady hands, you carefully place the tongs on the tumor that was roughly about the size of a golf ball, cutting under it very carefully as you waved the sharp blade around the incision area. once you pulled the scalpel away, you slowly take the tongs out of the patient’s open skull area, showing the tumor before placing it in the small tray on your left side, stepping away from the operating table.

“alright, we’re good here. prep the head for stitching.” you say once exiting the room to clean yourself up.

about ten minutes later, you and your assisting operating nurse sohee walked out to the waiting room where the patient’s family was sitting, all of them collectively standing up, waiting to hear the news. while that was happening, cristina, your best friend, pops her head out of the front desk, watching you shake hands and exchange hugs, delivering the good news, reading your lips while you give the assurance that the patient will be in recovery right away and they’ll see them very soon.

you tell sohee to take a break before being paged again, eying cristina from the desk, walking toward her as she whips her hand out in front of you, reciprocating her energy as you gave her a high five.

“so i suppose the craniotomy went well as expected?”

“i would’ve done that with my eyes closed, but yes. the tumor was actually bigger than anticipated.”

cristina was left in a small surprise, walking through the long concourses of the hospital. it was practically second nature to be in this fast-paced environment with the route back to your office was just a simple walk down the hallway and to the left, take the elevator up to the 32nd floor, and the door to your office will be two doors down from the right.

“so how’d that blind date go two days ago?” you ask cristina, back still turned as she was right in tow with you.

“god, never again. she was a complete nutjob.”

“oh how so?”

“didn’t have the basic manners for a fancy restaurant, didn’t want to take no for an answer. she insisted on paying the bill but i played it safe and paid my half of it.”

you seeth air out of your teeth at the calculated defensive play that cristina did as you two enter the elevator.

“something tells me that you’re being set up with the wrong people.” you say, pressing away lightly on the buttons of the elevator panel, automatically going up after a few short seconds. “soojin was never really a good matchmaker for you to rely on, actually never was since med school.”

“you think y/n?” cristina retorts at you, “thanks for stating the obvious enola holmes.”

“hey! i finished both movies this past weekend. really great, don’t think i’d be a sherlock however.”

“you’d definitely would and i can prove that to you.” cristina says as you reach the floor of your office, briskly walking to the door, opening it wide enough for cristina to follow shortly after. you then walk to your desk, you snap your fingers as cristina is caught off guard by your cloak of levitation closing the door behind her, placing a hand on her chest in shock as the cloak moves around the room.

“i swear i told you to have a coat hanger for that thing.”

“not a thing.” you shoot out, pointing a finger as she sees you sit at your desk reviewing some of the paperwork that was left before your midday operation.

“say, are you doing anything saturday?” you ask, not paying attention to her while signing through certain lines of the files as cristina sits down on one of the couches as she notices the cloak holding up a kettle of water and cup, offering to her as she takes the cup.

“not at all y/n.” cristina replies as she sips the water easily. “why do you ask?”

“i got courtside tickets for the knicks game next tuesday and i cleared my schedule so-”

you get interrupted with the phone beeping as you put down your pen to answer the pager, clearing your throat before answering.

“what’s up jungwon?”

“hey y/n!” your young secretary answered with a bright tone in his voice. “i have doctor west here at the front desk with me saying that she needs to see you. she has some envelopes in hand with your names on it.”

“ah that must be the mail then, send her up!” you reply heartily as cristina breaks her head down, stifling a laugh at your antic.

“i can’t believe you made west your errand girl.”

“she lost a bet with me, so this was the punishment that she had to do.” you say with a cracking smile on your face. “i actually hope she does this forever really.”

the door opens again with doctor west walking in with a smug look on her face, “har har very funny l/n.” she says to you as she hands you the small set of envelopes for you to look through. “i was off by ten points on that basketball game bet, but with you being the sports analyst you are, of course you’d be on the dot with it.”

“i won fair and square.” you firmly say, “want an espresso before you head down?” you ask as the floating cloak hovers over the machine waiting for her answer.

“i’m good y/n but thank you though.” west replies as she makes her way to the door, “oh there was this old fashioned envelope with a fancy seal on it.” west says with a finger pointed up like an idea popped up in her head.”it looked pretty important to me so i put it in the middle of the pile.”

“why would you put the most important one in the middle when it should be on top?” you ask, shifting through the stack as you see the envelope that west was talking about, flipping it over as it had very fancy writing on the front that was written to you before looking at the red seal that was keeping it closed.

“what is that?” cristina asks as she looks over to you again.

“a very old envelope, but i think it's what’s inside that matters.” you reply breaking the red seal, opening up the envelope to pull a slip of paper that had a ticket inside along with a note.

“it’s an invitation.”

“to where?”

“a special evening gala at the myoui residence, tonight.”

“the myoui’s?” doctor west asks with confusion in her voice. walking back to you to show the small lettered paper as she was left in surprise. your cloak of levitation floating behind you as it also looked like it wanted a look at the paper, you waved your hand away at it as it went back in the corner.

“what does the invitation say y/n?” cristina asks you, organizing the rest of the unopened envelopes to the left side of your desk before putting your attention back to the paper you were holding.

“it says: you are cordially invited for the celebration of akira myoui’s seventy-fifth birthday. there will be a special hearing from the celebrant himself as well as reception following after with provided refreshments. please dress in black attire accordingly and the ticket you received in the envelope will be your entry into the residence.”

cristina and west were left in shock that you were given such an invitation as the realization hits her like a truck.

“wait! this is the same akira myoui that you had to do emergency brain surgery on that one graveyard shift?”

you nod at the exposition clearly and remember the urgency of the situation. luckily you did save his life after they brought him in what was a sudden aneurysm to his brain. it was clockwork for you as the operation went swiftly for about four hours. you recall informing the mother, daughter, and his visiting brother after and they were able to leave after a few days of close monitoring to make sure that there weren't any complications.

“what’s so special about the myoui family?” doctor west asks as she takes a seat on the couch set on the opposite side of cristina.

“they’re the most esteemed family in all of new york, kind of like uncrowned royalty given that mr. myoui was one of the pioneering businessmen that put wall street on the map.” you answer as doctor west scratched her head at the new information gained. “consider them to be the japanese version of the beckham family.”

“an event hosted by the myoui family like this is way more prestigious than common pop culture gatherings. this is fifty times bigger than the met gala or the oscars.” cristina adds on snapping your fingers again to get a levitating cup of espresso handed to you.

“frankly enough if it weren’t for me, mr myoui wouldn’t have been alive today.” you say taking a quick sip down the last bits of your espresso before waving off the cup to float back to its original place.

“well congrats on getting the invite y/n.” doctor west says to you as she heads out the door of your office for real this time. “don’t forget to take pictures of their mansion for me, will ya? i’m helping my little sister with her architectural project so a little inspo would be nice.”

you wave doctor west off with a thumbs up as you reach for the slip of paper that was addressed to you before looking at the opened envelope that it came in. the paper was aged and ragged, you could feel the years behind your fingertips slowly grazing the cracked seal, looking at the image of the elegant swan that was used as a stamp.

“so you are going right?” cristina asks you as she leans back on the couch to relax for a bit before heading back downstairs to work.

“well i have to.” you reply lowly, “i saved the man’s life, in a way he’s indebted so by inviting me is one action of his thankfulness for the years of work i dedicated most of my life to in order to help others.”

being a sorcerer of the mystic arts was one thing, but somehow it felt wrong to be one place than the other. you tried your best to be in the sanctum and the hospital but you know that it’ll eventually come down to leaving one thing behind. you didn’t get to that fork in the road yet but it was going to be soon.

you fold the paper up and place it in the center of your desk, clap your hands together twice, getting cristina’s attention, grabbing the empty cup from her and setting it on the coffee table.

“we should go downstairs before the pager reaches my office again. not a fun time the last time they did that.” you say as cristina cracks a laugh at the memory you mentioned, closing the door behind you as you made your way down to the hospital floors.

—

a couple hours later after you left work early and you were walking around your decked out high-rise apartment, lightly cleaning around before you had to get ready for the gala event.

to say that you’ve done well for yourself (frankly quoted by your parents to add,) would be hell of an understatement. the apartment was minimal and spacious, but it reflected your lifestyle and personality so well with all of the trinkets and nicknacks you’ve spoiled yourself with within your 5 years of being a neurosurgeon. the list of flashy toys and items only grew and hell you had a rare grand piano sitting in your dining room that was auctioned off with the description which was claimed to be the same piano that elton john had on his farewell tour, along with three of the rarest hypercars just sitting in your garage waiting to be taken on a joyride again.

you open one of the units in your walk in closet after showering, browsing through any possible outfits to wear with two options; the first one being a sleek satin textured dress that would flaunt off your figure in all the right curves and places—if you wanted to attract attention to yourself, this would be the outfit to wear.

the other one however was more on the subtle, lowkey side as it was a simple suit, but the jacket was tailored to a super cropped fit that would expose your midriff, not that you had a problem with showing a little hint of your abs since you kept yourself in shape regularly. giving the suit a longing look, you nodded at the thought of the suit on your body and pulled it out of the closet closing the door right after.

once you got all of the necessary chains and jewelry you thought would look good with the suit, you walk up to the glass case of all of your degrees and accolades, pulling the drawer below to reveal a plethora of watches rotating in different cycles to ensure that the inner gears would be operating properly. you hovered your finger over the different watches that would be worth almost a third of your paycheck as you picked out a sleek rolex out of the drawer, pressing the knob to ensure that it was working, and pushed the drawer back and slipped the watch on your wrist while walking out of the apartment.

—

even though you had only seen pictures of the myoui family’s estate, you couldn’t help but get lost in the intricate designs that they had for the house when you arrived. architectural digest would have a field day in covering the estate if the family wasn’t very closed off to the public, but that was also the beauty of it too—it gave a mysterious vibe to everyone that has ever seen or written about this famous family and nobody knew what was happening behind closed doors.

the outside pavilion of the estate was riddled with vines growing on the sides of the front door, exiting your lambo, adjusting your necklace and jacket before handing the keys to the valet worker nodding as he watched in awe as you went up the stairs to the front entrance where they were checking every attendee inside.

the process was quick and smooth, following along the flow of the crowd, scanning and observing the walls plus the high arches in the interior before approaching the main hall.

you were no stranger to gatherings, observing many of the people conversing with one another in the various standard and standing tables spread across the room, proceeded to walk forward. people steal quick glances at you walking past them, immediately recognizing who you were as the sudden exchange of words turn into quick murmurs—no surprise as word does travel fast when you have a powerpoint presentation of awards and achievements.

as people try not to freak out at the sight of you and your appearance, you give a small smile nodding to the multitude of eyes staring, walking forward past the occupied tables. you then get stopped by various individuals that actually turned out to be colleagues you’ve met at previous events, breaking the ice and catching up on what’s been happening since that last time you and them have met.

it’s refreshing and nice that you don't have to keep your mouth shut since you usually speak at these events or conferences, but then your eyes wander to a certain person, well technically, a big guy who was about 6’4 who stood out a little more than needed. either way, you flash a goofy smile blurting a fast excuse to remove yourself from the conversation that you were in.

you walk your way through the idle crowd as you approach the man, his back faced towards you. getting stopped by one of the waiters who was plating out simple pastries to the table, looking back at the man’s broad shoulders, the hair on the back of his head looking more familiar, instantly remembering who the person was.

“chief!” you yell out, getting his attention as he flashes a smile that matches yours, walking towards you arms open as he draws you in for a long embracing hug.

“ahh y/n!” the chief cries out with joy, his hands nearly taking up the entire space on your back, patting his shoulders and moving your body side to side as he pulls away after a few seconds.

“it’s so good to see you!”

“even better to see you again!” the chief replies, “god, how long has it been since we last saw each other?”

“about 6 years, no?” you ask as the chief places his fingers on his head, rubbing his temple at how long it had been. you and the chief had quite the history together; the both of you met back at the hospital during your internship at the time for med school when the chief’s best friend in the force at the time was rushed in after a case that went south. you were an assisting nurse at the time but luckily the surgery went well for him to make a full recovery.

you were the one to actually break the news to the chief after the long operation and you remember the faint memory of him shaking your hand, thanking profusely of the work that you and the other nurses did to save his friend’s life. since then, you and the chief kept in touch—mostly by events like these and you were even invited to some of his birthday parties. he was a good colleague, an inspirational person with the considerable amount of work he’s done for the police, but above all that, you were happy to have the chief as a close friend.

“what you been up to lately?” the chief asks you while adjusting your rolex.

you sighed out playfully at the doting question, “nothing much actually, it’s been nice down at the hospital.”

the chief nods with pouted lips as he scans the crowd for anything out of the ordinary, still letting his policeman demeanor take over him.

“you’ve kept yourself busy, i heard about the whole lizard debacle when it happened two weeks ago.” you say, angling your head off to the right as the chief nods his head at the memory.

“yeah, that was something.”

“word on the street is saying that you were actually tied up with we-”

“zip it l/n, i already got made fun of with that from the other detectives back at the precinct.” he says coldly, “i don’t need to hear it from you.”

you raise your eyebrows at the chief’s tone, taken aback at the sudden change of attitude. a second of tension hangs in the air before the chief bursts out laughing at his little prank.

“sorry, but it was a pain in the ass to get all of those webs off of me and the car.”

you scoff at the chief, looking out to the crowd of people that were still coming in from the main door of the hall. this was some gathering it had to be, diverting your attention back to the buff man standing in front of you.

“are you by yourself or?” you ask the chief again to keep the conversation going.

“thankfully i’m not. i brought company with me for tonight, had to take some convincing though.” the chief replies before turning his head around to get someone’s attention, “park!”

you lean your head to the chief’s left side as you see a woman approach you with a second person in tow right behind her.

the first person that the chief called over looked to be about 5’3 in comparison to your 5’9 height and a clear difference compared to the chief’s frame. you take notice of her high cheekbones, her eyebrows looked recently threaded, skin complexion looking clearly divine, she had a beauty mark that slightly stuck out on the tip of her nose, and her hair was wavy flipped over to the right side of her dress.

“y/n, this is detective park jihyo. my right hand woman and one of my best and brightest in the force.” the chief informs with a hand out towards the detective, jihyo sticking her hand out. you politely obliged with a firm handshake.

“pleasure to meet you jihyo.” you say with a smile.

“likewise y/n, i’ve heard a little bit about you already.”

“that so? well if it’s from the chief’s mouth then it’s probably not true.”

the three of you share a quick laugh as the chief scrunches his face at your joke. soon after that, the second person that was behind jihyo finally merged into the small circle.

the second person was roughly about your height, she wore a velvet red dress that complimented all of the curves on her body nicely. her frame was much similar to the chief’s given the amount of muscle that was peeping through. her face felt too fake to be real, but it was all natural the way it contoured with the slightly darker skin compared to the chief’s. you got lost for a second as the person across from you stared back before the chief broke the silence yet again.

“i haven’t actually introduced you to her yet, but y/n this is my niece.” your face lights up in awe at the new piece of information given, playing along with the act since you already know who she actually was, but the chief didn’t know this, and hopefully you can keep it that way.

“i was about to say that you look very familiar with the chief.” you say to the chief’s niece, locking eyes with her, hands still shaking together. “did he have to drag you here since you couldn’t stay at home?”

the chief’s niece laughs lightly, retracting back with arms crossed, pushing a strand of hair away from her face before answering.

“i’m not really a fan of events like these, but hey, free food!” she exclaimed with open hands, simply nodding at her substantiated reason as the chief glances at the three of you.

“attention everyone, please start taking your seats. the event will be starting in approximately five minutes.” you hear the announcer say on the speakers as everyone starts to settle down, scrambling for open seats around the hall.

“well then, you girls can get acquainted while i find us a table.” the chief exclaims out, clasping his hands together before leaving the small circle that was now consisting of the three of you.

“i suppose we should follow him then while we do that.” jihyo says as she follows the chief’s pathway. you nodded at the plan that the chief started as the chief’s niece started to walk behind jihyo before you stopped her for a quick second to whisper something in her ear.

“didn’t think that you’d be here too, spiderwoman.”

the chief’s niece gawks her head as you smile at the mischievous message you just uttered, rolling her eyes at you, playing along with your little antic.

“very funny magic doctor, but hopefully nothing goes wrong tonight.” she replies, “it’s my day off anyway.”

you pat her shoulder as she continues to walk after jihyo, reaching for her hand as she naturally joins hers without jihyo looking. you didn’t think anything of it, but they did look good together, tracking behind her to the table that was a little bit off to the side of the main dance floor.

—

sitting next to the chief at the table, the light’s dimmed down a bit as the emcee for tonight stood center stage with the microphone and a paper in his hands.

��ladies and gentlemen, i would like to thank all of you who came tonight for this special occasion. tonight we are celebrating the man who has given everything for this city. one who has sacrificed a lot to build the life that he has made, if it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t be standing here tonight in this hall together. he is loved by all with his good graces, so without further ado, please welcome akira myoui and his lovely family!”

the crowd parted like moses with the red sea as the myoui family finally took center stage. greeting the various guests along the way as they walked to the dance floor. the hall erupted with endless applause, setting your eyes on the family clapping along too.

mr. myoui looks to be in healthy shape on the small stage, impressed that for his age that he’s still standing tall with a bright smile across his face as he repeatedly bowed to the audience, thanking them. his wife was also clapping along next to him, almost shedding tears as she tried to wipe her face while clapping.

switching glances from mrs. myoui to their daughter, you’ve only seen her once and that was back at the hospital after the operation, she was very quiet and timid, didn’t really speak much in that first encounter but that was more than a couple years ago compared to now.

myoui mina was it? you try to remember. wait, that can’t be mina now right!?

mina stood aside her parents wearing a one piece dress with the bottom half being flared out to give more breathing room for her legs. her heels were clunky and simple, but she pulled it off so well. you couldn’t help but stare at the elegance that she was emitting just by doing absolutely nothing. refusing to draw your eyes away from her as you become slack jawed.

you could see why she was considered to be the myoui family’s black swan. she was the sole example of beauty perfected on a person. the way her face is outlined in the lighting, making her jawline unreal to look at. her lips were simple but fitting on her, her hair tied in a high ponytail with the ends hanging loosely. you see her turn towards her parents and you notice that the back of her dress was completely exposed, leaving you almost salivating at how flawlessly sculpted and toned her back was.

before you could indulge in eye-fucking her more at a distance, you break your trance, ears picking up the sound of chairs squeaking on the glossy floor as the guests started to take their seats. placing your hand over your mouth, you try your hardest to get that image of mina out of your head before you try to keep yourself occupied by engaging in conversations with jihyo and the chief’s niece for the next couple of minutes before you hear someone tap a couple times on the microphone.

everyone’s attention turns back to the stage as akira myoui holds the microphone proudly, getting a few more applause before he holds a hand up to quiet down the slightly rowdy crowd.

“please please!” he starts off saying, quieting the crowd more as the sound of hands start to dissipate.

“i’d like to keep this speech short as much as possible, but knowing myself, i’ll probably get off track with my three second memory span like a goldfish.”

the audience breaks out in a small laughter as mr. myoui cheekily smiles, tensing his shoulders up as a few ‘woops’ are heard scattered in the crowd.

you couldn’t help but have a sense of content watching your former patient stand in front of you feeling never more alive than he already is. you considered it to be just a small accomplishment that you didn’t realize at the time but it would be a major contribution to his long life as the event you were in was just living proof that he will always be standing despite the many adversities thrown at him.

“i’d like to have everyone take a seat. i’m going to indulge you all with a little story of mine.”

it was going to be a long night indeed, but you didn’t mind the speech taking eons to finish as you were moved by the words of wisdom that was filling your ears with so much knowledge.

—

the speech felt like a seminar speaking back in your college days, but nobody complained because everyone in the room was captivated by mr. myoui’s view on his life with the whole grand hall exploding in cheers as mr. myoui thanked the crowd for listening as he bowed to close the momentous moment.

soon after, about fifteen minutes later, the dance floor was opened for anyone willing to partake as the open area was filled with the lively music played by the lively band.

you weren’t big on dancing, but if someone were to be playing 80’s classics, it would be a different discussion. for the most part, you stood off to the side behind a couple tables conversing with other doctors from a neighboring hospital just a few blocks away from yours.

soobin and sunghoon were your lab partners back in college and they both were practicing physical therapists in contrast to your dabbling with poking inside people’s brains. the three of you were sharing a quick laugh about a college memory with soobin getting absolutely hammered on the week of finals midweek before showing up the next day with no sign of a hangover from his face whatsoever. when you asked him after class he just simply said to you that he had his ways.

nearly laughing your ass off, you catch your breath before speaking again—suddenly you hear a cry for help on the dance floor, turning around in less than a millisecond to see what was happening. at the last second you see the head of a girl dip in your line of vision behind the figure of a man, you didn’t think of it since it might be one of the other guests before your ear hears the name of the woman that fell.

“miss mina are you alright?”

you turn back to see the man attempt to pick up mina, screaming slightly again as you start to make your way closer to the incident.

“get away from me!”

“aw don’t be like that, i thought we were having a moment.” the man says while you stood your ground between the two of them, seeing mina on the floor and the man on one knee with his hand floating next to her right cheek.

without a second thought, you grab the many by his shoulders and tossed him back causing the man to get agitated towards you now.

“hey what the hell?!”

“back away from her, she’s clearly uncomfortable.” irritation clearly rising in your tone as the man simply just scoffed at your action.

“c’mon now, her and i were just having a friendly conversation.” the man replies taking two steps forward, only to be shoved back by you again now getting annoyed with your persistence.

“i can see through your blatant lie you pretentious disgusting fuck.” you harshly say, anger now reaching to your hands as they balled up into fists.

“who do you think you are-”

“what’s going on here?”

the three of you are approached by one of the security guard members with the chief trailing behind to see what was happening.

“someone tried to get a little frisky with myouis’s daughter, but he’s trying to play it off cooly.” you say, pointing to the man standing across giving a disgusting look at you while the guard and chief both look towards the man.

“she’s just making it all up, it’s a lie.”

“then how come mina’s on the floor hmm? care to explain that?”

the man parts his mouth open, tongue caught in his throat as he hangs his head in shame, admitting that he was in the wrong as the surrounding guests watching the altercation gasped in detestation at what they just heard.

“get this guy out of here, what a disgrace from a high working member of society.”

the man was then being escorted away by the security guard and the chief, you then tend to mina’s care who was still on the floor, sitting upright as you got down on one knee to see her condition.

“sorry about all of that, was he troubling you?”

mina shakes her head while you put your hand out to help her up, “a little, he was eying me for a majority of the party so i have to thank you for stepping in.”

once level with you standing, you brush your hands down your blazer before looking back up to mina, not realizing that you were observing her features a lot more closely now compared to earlier, eyes trailing her face as mina tilts her head in curiosity realizing that you were staring for a little bit too long.

mina was about to say something to you, fake coughing in front of her to cover the embarrassment of you glancing at her before you gathered your thoughts in less than 0.9 nanoseconds.

“i believe we met once before, but i’ll introduce myself again.” you begin saying, “i’m y/n, well, doctor l/n since i helped save your father’s life a long while back.”

“i remember, it’s nice to see you again, y/n.” mina responds politely, putting a soft smile that makes you keel over in your head, taking her hand, kissing it as a sign of respect that made mina blush lightly at the feudal act.

—

to step away from the crowd, you follow mina around the endless pathways in the mansion before stopping to opena set of doors leading into the library study. you were left appalled at the towering bookcases that stretched across the room once the lights lit up the darkened place.

“i’ve only seen pictures of this place, it’s amazing to finally see it in person.” you say, jogging lightly to catch up beside mina as softly laughs at you acting like a little kid.

“we don’t normally show what we have inside our estate, but it’s always good to receive compliments like yours every now and then when we have events like these.” mina replies, walking along a bookcase trailing her fingers across the spines of books that have been sitting there for years. some probably touched while the rest were just simply collecting dust.

you leaned against the handrail as you continued to watch mina, everything that she did was with a sense of elegance. the way she rolls her feet on and off the floor almost as if she was gliding on air, crossing your arms with a thought running in your head that you just can’t seem to get out of.

“it’s nice to see you’ve done well for yourself doctor.” mina begins again, turning her gaze back to you with a sly grin tugging on her face that would’ve sent a punch to your stomach the way she was looking. “you’ve put yourself miles ahead with your reputation for health.”

“what makes you say that?” you say hiding a frown reluctantly accepting the curveball compliment.

“there’s something with you y/n, behind those years and years of medical experience that i just want to know about.” she says as she opens a panel that leads to the outside balcony, looking at you flashing a subtle nod at the offer to go outside with her.

“what is it that you like to know? i’m an open book.”

mina hums as she stands overlooking the garden of the family estate below before facing square with you.

“cocktails or charcuterie?”

“nice to have an appetizer before delving into a little bit of concoctions.”

“interesting take.” mina says, pinching her bottom lip before releasing a gummy smile. you smirk at the sight while looking down from the simple yet unique question.

“is it true that you have two PHD’s?”

“got them both simultaneously after medical school.”

mina is taken aback by this trivial piece of information as she tries to think of more questions to break your icy wall of knowledge.

“favorite movie of all time?”

you snort at the sudden simple question as mina bursts trying to compose herself too. “you’re kidding right? there’s no way you ask me that after two questions.” you tease as mina tries to control her laugh at the randomness she just did in front of you, gazing softly at the state—you wish to see her like this around you more often.

“you still have to answer.” mina finally says once finished.

“oppenheimer and interstellar, absolute masterpieces of works.”

mina then turns around to stare at the city skyline, the jungle of skyscrapers and the faint sound of cars on the streets frantically beeping their way around as you stand next to her again, indulging in the same view, letting the cool breeze flow past your bodies.

“did you ever think you would be helping people anywhere else besides here?” mina asks you and you perk your head up at the question.

“not really, this city has been my home for as long as i can remember.”

“even if you wanted to work overseas?”

you shake your head, “i think keeping myself here is a huge favor. i can’t imagine what it’ll be like for your father if i wasn’t here to save him.”

mina’s head dips at the thought before looking at you again with the same soft smile she’s been giving you this whole night.

“i wanted to thank you again for earlier, you looked pretty alluring when you stood up to the creep back in the hall.”

“i also have something.” you say, “you looked extremely dashing when you were on stage. i simply couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

silence fills the air as mina hears your sudden expression that makes her heart dance leaving her flustered.

“didn’t think that it would be you of all people to tell me that i was beautiful or pretty, doctor.”

your face warms up at your foregoing words, as run your hand through the back of your head, trying to keep yourself cool, getting a motivation to double down your efforts.

“well consider me to be the first doctor to tell you that you’re amazingly striking mina.”

“nothing new with us high class members being bewitched by each other after they just met.” mina says as she leans a little closer to you, lightly placing your fingers on her chin with the both of you staring at each other's lips, allowing the gravity between you two do it's work before you feel a buzz in your pocket.

turning away at the last second as mina stops her movements while you grab your phone from your pocket, letting out a small whine of annoyance through your nose as you see the caller id on your screen.

“sorry mina, i have to take this.” you say as mina shakes her head again and with a hand up while you went back inside to answer the phone. with the phone in your ear you tried to see if your phone was glitching out, noticing the flashing lights outside the paned window—fireworks as the light bursting through with a hint of red color. curious to see if anything was weird, you immediately ignore that thought once the sparking lights along with the red color fading away went back outside to check on mina.

popping your head, you see mina stand there now in the same position as she once was, overlooking the city as you walked back to her, tapping her shoulder which startled her for a second.

“you okay? i saw some fireworks go off.” you ask her as mina hums softly while nodding.

“just taking in the view y/n that’s all.”

“we should head back inside, i think we’ve been here for a little bit longer than expected.”

mina agrees as she turns around, leaning forward from on the stone handrail as you take her hand with yours, leading her back inside and into the ballroom.

—

you and mina return back to the ballroom arms linked together. the music played by the band was still considerably loud while people in the crowd began murmuring again at the sight of you and mina walking in together instinctively giving small nods around before reaching mina’s parents who greeted you happily.

“y/n!” you hear mr. myoui’s voice over the loud music as you and mina turn your attention to him approaching you, unlinking arms to fix your appearance to make yourself more presentable, flashing a hand out for him to shake.

“great to see you still walking mr. myoui!” you exclaim excitedly as mr. myoui takes your hand, bringing you in for a hug as you and him groan out in bright remarks.

“how are you doing?”

“i’ve never felt more alive!”

“that’s good to know. my door is always open for you at my office if you ever want to chat again.” you say as mr and mrs. myoui laugh at the generous offer for your former patient’s wellbeing.

“thank you for stepping into that incident with my daughter earlier, i thought shindong knew better but knowing his dragging of women back at his workplace it seems that he never leaned from his mistakes.”

“i apologize for causing a scene at your party.” you say, placing a hand on your chest and bowing slightly out of respect.

“not at all! you actually did a good deed protecting my daughter mina.” mr. myoui replies, “consider that to be your second good act you’ve done for us.”

“gladly sir, thank you as always.”

“attention everyone, will mr. amd mrs. myoui take to the center of the dance floor for their special dance segment.?” you hear the emcee announce abruptly as the stage light beams down towards you and the myoui’s.

gasps and whoops were heard as they started to make their way past you to the dance floor, letting them pass by you and mina, watching them as the band started playing something slow. a fitting moment once mr. and mrs. myoui held each other lovingly.

a subtle song choice as the band played a cover of a jazzy tune of mr. blue by the fleetwoods. it was also understandable that this was the song that was playing when mr and mrs. myoui first met each other so long ago.

when the song had ended, the crowd applauded the lovely couple as more and more people took to the floor to embark on their own slow dancing. the lights dimmed just a bit as the band started setting the mood with more jazzy tunes. you scan the crowd and see the chief with a pretty lady walking across your line of vision, jihyo and the chief’s niece followed suit not long after too.

you stood there in the crowd of moving people as you contemplated on whether to stand off to the side—but it wasn’t gonna be like that just for tonight. you finally decided it would be fine to let loose a little bit to breakaway from the stress back at the hospital.

mina sits at a nearby table not too far from the dance floor, reaching for a glass of water to drink when she recalls the sudden red light she was staring at on the outside of the balcony. it felt strange—entrancing like the gods from above had sent her a message—a throbbing headache pounds her head as she tries to fight it off with tightly closed eyes. flashes of images pooling in her head of people screaming, a shadow striking down another person, and an eerie hissing sound followed by a low growl before opening her eyes again.

she feels a hand on her shoulder, looking up to meet your worried gaze along your hunched posture. you notice a hint of red lightly fading away from her eyes leaving you puzzled, but you thought nothing of it as you kneeled next to mina on the chair.

“everything okay?”

“yeah, i just had a brain freeze from the cold water.”

you let out a soft sigh followed by a smile, standing up to turn your attention towards the dance floor for a quick second before returning your look back to mina, extending a hand to her with the lights shining behind you, emulating the same aura that mr. myoui had with mrs. myoui just earlier.

“care to dance with me?”

—

this evening had its fair share of twists and turns, but this was easily the best highlight of the night—dancing with a literal icon of the high class with mina with the both of you weaving past the people on the floor to reach the center.

your hands seamlessly find their way to mina’s waist as her’s are neatly wrapped around your neck, the flow of music moving your bodies as you hold her hand out to the side.

it’s like you had a spell activated to turn yourself invisible as everything around you started turning blurry, the only thing that was in your vision was mina—something about her with you just made her 10 times more ethereal with the ambience of the band playing a slow song, the lights nearly off in the hall with the nightlight effect emitting from the hanging chandelier’s.

something about the band playing a dean martin cover, it awoke a version of you that was rowdy with love. mina was just getting lost in the music, breaking her vibe by pulling her closer to you. you already noticed earlier but your outfit and hers really complimented each other nicely. all of the big designer companies should take notes with the contrasting angles that your suit and mina’s dress fit on your bodies.

the space between you two was now just within a few inches of each other, mina’s hand now at your chest as your hand was still on the small of her back—a lot more closer with meeting eyes again—the same tempting pupils that were seen back on the balcony with the air around now thickening rigidly.

“say…what were you going to do when we were together back on the roof?” mina asks you with her voice above a small tone.

“when my fingers were on your chin and when you were staring at my lips?” you mumble, earning a sigh coming out of mina’s parted lips.

you then do the same motion with your fingers like earlier, mina leaning closer again, but this time the distance was just mere centimeters at this point.

“what’s your diagnosis of this we’re doing y/n?” mina whispers to you, tilting her head slightly, the desire pulling the string more and more by the second.

“how bout we just-” you cut yourself off by mirroring the same actions with mina and before you could have any second thoughts, her lips met yours.

staring at her lips earlier was one thing, but feeling them was a completely different thing. they were just as plump and soft as they looked. mina’s fingers sliding on your cheek with you pulling her closer. luckily the room was dark enough for no one else to notice, you didn’t care about the repercussions that might follow if someone noticed—you were always about living life on the edge every now and then. kissing the myoui family’s black swan was no different.

mina pulls away for a quick second, the music still ringing through your ears as she pecks you again with a slight urge than before, catching her breath again as you meet her half-lidded eyes. but before you two could continue once more, there was something out of place.

her eyes glowed red again.

you pull her for another quick kiss as mina slides her arm under yours, you still place your hand on her face, fingers getting tangled with your hair before you hear a faint hiss come out of mina.

opening your eyes to see what was happening, mina slid down from kissing your face down to your neck, tickling your pulse point as you gasped out in a slight surprise. she then hissed again when she pulled herself away, diving back into your neck, but you then felt a sharp pain suddenly—pushing mina away from you when another hiss was heard from her, turning into a growl as she gnawed on your neck one more time, properly leaving a mark with the guests surrounding you two started to take notice of what happened.

the music abruptly stopped and the lights flickered back on again. murmurs from the crowd only increased while you felt your neck from the sudden pain that it received, noticing your fingers were laced with drops of your blood. the pain soon kicked in as more and more party guests took steps back.

your head was spinning and your vision was getting blurrier. you staggered for a bit as mina watched you stumble down on the floor, fading into unconsciousness. the last thing that you noticed passing out was that mina had fangs coming out of her teeth.

screams from the guests could be heard as your vision had completely faded into blackness.

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