twenty.

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IT WAS ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE NIGHTS. Fancy champagne, chandeliers hanging above heads, snobby rich people. It was a night Tim dreaded. Wearing suits and listening to dull conversations were simply not his style. It was almost monochrome-like, same old people who simply would love to marvel and be noticed by him. Sure, it was his birthday. Sure, he should be happy. But this wasn't his style at all.

Slow music played as people danced here and there. Faint clanks of glass and fake laughter filled the air. Tim stood in the corner, his gaze skimming through the crowd. He was waiting for a certain tuft of hair, the hazel eyes that spoke millions in a single glance. He was waiting for Ciara.

He awkwardly glanced at his phone, time seeming like a blur. It felt like hours since it started, even if the gala simply just started.

"Mr. Drake," A voice grunted in front of him. Tim's baby blue eyes shot up from his phone, staring at the man across him. "Mr. Denali." Tim smiled softly, shaking the outstretched hand.

A hefty laugh resounded from the elder male, his chest heaved up and down as a wide grin plastered on his face. "Please, call me Wilson." His heavy, calloused hand placed awkwardly on Tim's tiny shoulder. "I see you're straying away from the party, i mean it is your birthday gala after all!" Wilson spoke.

Tim inwardly cringed, his face slightly scrunched at his loud tone. A subtle laugh left his lips, a gentle smile on Tim's face. "Yes, well, I don't exactly like having an entire gala as a birthday."

Another hefty laugh left Wilson's lips. Tim huffed quietly, hoping Ciara, or maybe even his siblings would step through any second. "Well you gotta get used to it my boy, you are the CEO of Wayne Enterprises." Wilson grinned. "Say boy; since you're currently alone, why don't I introduce you to someone?"

Wilson made small hand movements, as though as he signaled someone to get closer. A young girl stepped forward, a gentle smile on her face. Her shoulder-length, raven hair was curled at it's ends, framing her small face. Makeup was lightly dusted onto her tan skin. She was beautiful, like all others of course. You could even see boys fawning over her from miles away.

Tim smiled politely, watching as Wilson rambled on and on about his 'beloved' daughter. It was sweet to see a father speak so highly of her daughter, of course. Yet Tim's interest was drawn elsewhere. His slowly eyes focusing to the grand doors that led into the ballroom.

Time felt as though it skidded to a stop. The large doors opened, it's doors slowly pulled away. Gentle clicks of heels tapped against the floor as eyes were drawn away to the door. The familiar, tuft of hair he was looking for so long was tied neatly up into a bun. The pair of hazel eyes glinted in amazement as it travelled around the room. White fabric elegantly draped from her shoulders, hugging around her frame before owing open like a mermaid's tail.

To everyone else, it was simply another girl just coming in. She was just simply another girl in a gala. Another girl in an array of other beautiful women who were unique and diverse in their own way. Simply another girl hoping to catch the eyes of a certain male, and so she did.

Tim could not pry his eyes away whatsoever. His cheeks warmed as he watched her wander in. His stomach fluttered as he took a deep breath. "S-Sorry, Wilson. I need to do something." Tim smiled softly, gently pushing his way through.

"Ciara." Tim softly breathed out. It was so faint, almost no one could have heard. Yet the girl spun around, the white fabric softly swishing around her feet as the hazel eyes he loved landed on him. The ends of her plump, pink lips curled up into a smile. Ciara's face lit up in joy, her arms now around his neck as her sweet scent filled his nostrils. "Tim."

"You look great," Tim smiled softly. He pulled back gently, his baby blue eyes scanning Ciara up and down.

Ciara snorted, rolling her eyes. "That's the driest thing to say," Tim raised a brow in amusement. "Really now? What were you expecting?"

"Well I was expecting 'Must I say, you look wonderful this evening Master Ciara.'" Ciara mocked in a fake posh accent before giggling. Her nose scrunched as her tidy hair now had strands falling in her face. Tim laughed as well, the ends of his lips curled up into a wide smile.

"Why madam Ciara, I must say you do not look wonderful this evening. You look like utter trash! Garbage I say, garbage!" Tim mocked back, making the two erupt in loud laughter.

Music slowly played, Tim smiled at Ciara who grinned back. "Shall we dance, m'lady?" Tim joked, bowing down as Ciara feigned a shocked gasp.

"My word! A lowly peasant? Asking me to dance?" Ciara gasped. "Why, heavens no! I must not be seen around you!"

"Just take my hand, pussy."

"Alright, bitch boy."








LOUD LAUGHTER FILLED THE QUIET GARDEN. Hours had passed. Tim and Ciara ran around, wide grins were plastered on their faces. The two ran around like children, hands linked together as Tim ran in front. Birds watched the two, the grass softly crunching under their feet. The moon shining softly above them.

Their shoes were gone. Dirt was caught between their toes as they spun around in the garden, away from the loud gala filled with people. Tim's jacket was thrown away, somewhere in the garden. His hair was messy as a grin was widely shown on his face. "Tim! Slow down! Running in a dress isn't easy!" Ciara shrieked in joy.

Tim swiveled around, staring into the hazel eyes he loved. Ciara's once neat hair was now splayed around. Patches of dirt covering her face as her red dress sloshed around. "Are you making up excuses?" Tim teased.

Ciara laughed. "Fuck off Tim!"

The two erupted in laughter, pants now filled the air as exhaustion reeked over Ciara. Tim felt as though he was fine, perhaps it was the fact he was a vigilante. Running was the norm for him, at least. The two plopped down on the ground, ignoring the fact they'll be covered in dirt and soot in the end.

Tim turned his head. His eyes gazed longingly at Ciara. He loved every single one of her feature. God, he's infatuated by her.

"It's been a while since I've seen the sky this clear." Ciara spoke, drawing Tim out of his state. Tim hummed in agreement, staring up at the night sky. "You wanna hear something dumb?" Ciara started.

"Jaycee tell me stories up until now. It was pretty stupid but, it helped me sleep at least. There's this one story that she always told me though." Ciara rambled. Tim raised a brow, a simple hum signaling that he was listening.

"It's about the princess of a tribe who had turned into a spirit in exchange to save her people. So now, she guides passed souls to become stars so they can watch over the people they left-"

"Okay that's pretty stupid and highly inaccurate cause stars are actually balls of gas-"

"I know, okay? fuck off!" Ciara laughed. "It sounds like a children's novel, yeah I know. But it's something about the way that the stars are actually people up there watching over you." She sighed, her eyes staring up at the stars in the sky.

"Maybe when I die, you'll see one giant ass star that reads 'fuck you!' and you'll know it's me." Laughter erupted once more.

Tim's rough and calloused hands covered her small, soft ones. Ciara's pale lips curled into a smile as she stared above. Tim gazed lovingly at her, covered in soot and the dark red, almost brown-like dress was splayed below her.

"Tim," Tim hummed, looking beside him, watching the girl lean on her side looking at him. "I love you." Ciara whispered softly, her glassy eyes watched him, looking through the many strands of hair that fell into his face. Tim felt the corners of his lips curled into a grin, warmth spreading in his chest as he held the girl's small hand.

Tonight was perfect for him.

Tonight should be perfect for him.

Tonight should've been perfect for him.



God, did he wish that night happened.

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