Stars

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We're like the stars, Batman. We only come out at night.

Gotham City, 1 year after the death of the Waynes
"Come climb the bridge with me."
"It's late. Even Alfred is asleep."
"So? No one will be around...it'll be fun."
"...fine."
"Fine."

"I can't climb this...I need training, I need—"
"Shut up. It's not that hard, of course you can climb it. Watch."
"Just because you can doesn't mean I—"
"Climb. And I'll help you if you fall."

"I think I'm starting to get it."
"We're halfway there. Hurry up."
"How do you go so fast? You're like a cat."
"And you're like a seventy year old dude. Let's go."

"We—we made it."
"Only took us an hour."
"The stars are beautiful from up here. It almost feels like I could reach up and grab one."
"You're weird, you know that, right?"
"Perhaps."
"...thanks for coming with me."
They turned, facing each other and he found his gaze settled upon her pink lips. She followed his gaze and, without thinking, leaned in and pressed her own lips against his own. For a moment he froze, eyes wide. Pulling away, he began, "A—are you sure—"
But she only drew him in closer, their mouths colliding more roughly this time.
The kiss burnt out like a flame that was slowly dying. There was a long period of silence.

"I'm sorry." she said
"For what?" he replied.
"You were right...I'm not nice...I—I—" her speech stopped and her gaze turned up toward the tiny twinkling stars above them, a thousand tiny feelings bottled up in the universe.
Then: "We'll never work."
A feeling stuck in the pit of his stomach. He knew she was right, yet part of him also felt this wouldn't be the last time he felt the sweet taste of her lips on his own. "So...what do we do?"
She turned to him, curly locks framing her moonlit face. And before he could speak again, before they could think, their hands were in each others hair again, two mouths in an eternal embrace that would end over and over, yet be reborn a thousand times.

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