"'Till death do us part
But my hearts getting dark
On the edge of the cliff
This cars gonna start
Now I can't breathe
Do you wanna way out?
I don't wanna way out
You and I know the truth
Even though it hurts
I just wanna be a criminal with you"
- MsMr, Criminals
••• Flashback •••
Oswald looked over to Bird as she struggled to open the small plastic packet of teriyaki sauce but struggled to get a good enough grip on the corner while still wearing the full-length satin gloves.
What a sight she was, he thought to himself.
Sitting with her legs crossed under her in a dark red evening gown, shoes kicked off on the walkway in front of the park bench, dark brown curls with frizzed roots from giving in to the itching the hairspray caused on her scalp -eating cheap take out from a food truck.
He glanced up to see an older woman walk past them with a small dog on a short leash; he didn't miss the judgment in her eyes when she passed them.
The same expression he'd seen on so many faces whenever he was out in public with Bird, wondering what someone like her was doing with the likes of him.
It bothered him initially, mainly due to his fear that she'd be too bothered by it to stick around, but she never seemed the least bit embarrassed to be seen with him.
As more time passed, he even got a kick out of it, wondering what stories the passersby were creating about them. How they'd react to knowing she was just as sick and twisted on the inside as he was.
Looking back over to Bird, he started to offer his help in the battle against the packet of sauce, but before he could, she raised it to her mouth and bit down on the corner of the plastic, roughly tearing it open with such force it split further down the side than she'd intended and soaked into her gloves.
Laying the foil tray of fried rice on her lap, she jerked the gloves off and let them fall to the grass beside the bench.
He wondered why she hadn't taken them off in the first place -but then he caught the cuts spanning a good distance of her forearm.
Bird didn't seem to notice him staring at her as she picked the tray back up and started shoving the rice into her mouth by the fork full.
"You sure you don't want any?" She asked.
"Yes, I'm sure." Oswald nodded as he held out the styrofoam cup of soda he'd been holding for her.
She took the cup from him and got a drink.
Her eyes were bright as she looked around the park. The crowd was steadily thinning as the night got later.
She seemed to be in a pretty good mood since getting in the car with him from the school dance, even giggly at times - thanks to being not quite drunk but pretty tipsy from the alcohol she'd consumed on her way to the dance.
But he knew something must have gone wrong at the school event for her to have called him her getaway driver.
"Bird," He adjusted how he was sitting on the bench to get a better look at her, "What happened tonight?"
Her mood shifted; he could feel it in the air around them, seeing how she went from scooping up bites of the fried rice to angrily stabbing at the food with the fork prongs.
"My dad." Bird finally answered, "He wants so badly to control me that he just ruins everything good in my life."
Oswald started to push for further information, but Bird offered it up on her own.
YOU ARE READING
Devil's Playground • Gotham Fanfiction •
Fanfiction"Sometimes you have to just sit back and watch people destroy themselves." Bird's own words after watching her biological mother die. Little did she know that apparently it was something she'd inherited. Maybe that's just part of the madness of life...
