Beautiful, beloved

3

Deja

I give my body a moment to shed the sleep from my brain, allowing the visions of the night give way into the mourning. I could hear the rain beating weakly against my window even before I opened my eyes. The room was dark and the day outside was grey. A deep loneliness seeped through my bones as my eyes stared at the empty ceiling above me.

A silent groan exits my lips as I stretch over the soft satin sheets, scooting to the edge of the bed, I check the time on my phone. I purse my lips tightly, I have about an hour to get ready.

I swiftly make my bed, strolling into the bathroom freshening up. I strip from my pajamas padding over to the shower twisting the faucets. I allow the water to sprinkle over me. It's usually at this time I feel at peace, alone with my own thoughts.

I press my hands to my face as I shiver under the steam. Sucking in a deep breath I begin cleansing myself. My long waved red hair is completely drenched, sticking unto my body.

I grab a towel wrapping it firmly along my torso trotting back into my room. The cold temperature biting my skin. I slip on a nice pair of skinny jeans with a solid eyelet embroidered white blouse, flashing a faint skim of my cleavage.

The faint glow of the early sunrise gleams through the peak of my grey curtains as I stride into the kitchen. I groan, resting my elbow on the ashy wooden counter, my gaze flickering up to the clock hung by the front door. Twenty minutes left.

Its only seven in the mourning but the darkness has enveloped the sky, no hues of colour. Just grey dim clouds, making the city miserable as usual. At the corner of my eye I notice Milo pad his bowl demanding meows purring from his throat. I sigh sinking down beside the bowl, as my hand caress the opening of his kibble bag beside the fridge. He extends his furry paw gently scratching my knee as the food tumbles into the dish creating a rhythmic cluttering noise.

****

The next fifteen minutes had passed by rather quickly. And I was already in a cab on my way to Wayne Enterprises. I tug at my fingers nervously glancing at my appearance in my small hand mirror. My eyes creased with the curved line of eyeliner, the mascara popping my eyelashes seemingly to be longer and quite noticeable. My hair sat loosely over my shoulders a small burette enclosed any uncooperative hairs from falling into my eyes.

I inhale as I finally arrived at our destination. I took a sigh of relief knowing I wasn't late again. No one was suspected at work for another half hour so that tension eased my nerves easily. I began to wonder why Bruce had wanted me so early, I mean he sounded rather odd on the call the other day. The hospitality of the building welcomed me as I was encountered by the main elevator leading unto Bruce's floor. My finger indistinctively brushes along the bright arrow pointing upwards as the elevator noise rung out in a small bell.

I stand in the middle of the elevator the motion of it swaying my body slightly. I clear my throat as my palms grow sweaty. My eyes nervously flick to the panel. Almost there.

I swiftly rummage through my purse applying a small amount of lip gloss the texture smoothing over my lips. I close my eyes momentarily stepping from the elevator as it opens on my office floor.

A howling suction emerges further down from the elevator doors, my eyes narrow at the tall silhouette striding towards me cautiously. I straighten out my shoulders as I follow his contemplative cold gaze.

His decisive brown eye land on mine as he strides towards me, the sharp edge of his stubbled jaw tensed, a barely noticeable sheen of sweat grazed a visible bruise painted on the side of his face. I clear my throat, as my eyes widen with shock. "Oh my god, what happened to your face." I mutter hovering a steady hand over my mouth.