Gods & Monsters | Bruce Wayne

FIFTY SEVEN - ONE ASK

Bruce had been watching the minutes on the clock tick by the entire night, staring at the hands through the darkness as dawn slowly started to break through the thin curtains and cast golden shadows through the room.

Heat warmed his skin and he longed for the cold darkness of night, wishing that the black shawl would linger forever if it meant he wouldn't have to tear himself away from that bed.

He stirred at just after five-thirty, gently easing his arm out from beneath Carla's body as she slept soundly against him. Her breathing was slow and rhythmic and Bruce thought he'd be able to slip out of the room without waking her, though he should've known better than that.

Carla's fingertips squeezed his arm as soon as he moved, her eyes still closed but the tension against his skin was enough to stop his heart, halting his breath inside of his throat as he glanced back down at her and watched her eyes flutter open.

She didn't say anything, at least not at first. The moment felt painfully reminiscent of times where Carla would only have to utter the word stay and Bruce would lay right back down beside her, but they both knew that wasn't an option that particular morning.

"You didn't sleep," she said, a statement rather than a question.

Bruce just shook his head.

"Sleep on your flight. You need to."

It was heartbreaking for Bruce to feel her touch disappear from his arm and to not have her hands pull him back down into bed. She looked effortlessly beautiful beneath him with her dark hair in waves across the pillow, eyes hazy from sleep and lips pouted, skin glowing in the sunlight.

"I wish I didn't have to go."

His gaze danced across her face but found no emotion, not even sadness residing behind a crinkle at her eyes or hint of a frown. Carla looked indifferent, and although Bruce knew that didn't mean she felt indifferent, he still wished he could've seen some kind of emotion from her.

Carla swallowed and pushed the covers from her body, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and opening the curtains, lingering by the window as the sun started to peak over the hilltops.

"I'll walk you out."

"Carla..." Bruce whispered with a shake of his head, hating the hostility that frosted over the room that had been so warm all night long.

She stayed stood by the window with her hands on her hips, staring out at the trees blowing in the gentle breeze and wondering how she would ever be able to become used to the pain she felt severing the chords of her heart in that moment.

"I'm going to come back."

Carla turned around then, swallowing once and tilting up her chin with a deep exhale that gave her the composure she wasn't sure she had before.

"No you're not," she said plainly, "I'd rather keep this goodbye short."

"I am, I will."

"I know you, Bruce. There's no end to the Batman that will satisfy you, no end that will let you move on."

"Well you're wrong," Bruce interjected sharply, both of their voices as quiet as possible so early in the morning.

"I hope so."

Carla looked Bruce up and down once before taking a step towards the bathroom, only for a hot grip to seize her wrist and pull her backwards, falling straight into Bruce's bare chest.