"How do you do that?" he asks with some fatality in his voice.
"What?" she asks in a bit sleepy tone.
The room is floating in the shadows. Fire is crawling out of the fireplace, eagerly eating air, eating his thoughts. Her head rests on his shoulder with her curls tickling his chin. He doesn't mind.
It is warm in the room and he thinks that she lied when she told him that she was cold. Her body is pressed to his side with her hand stroking his arm. He doesn't mind. He doesn't mind in the least.
"Selina?"
"Hmm?" she asks, turning her head to the side.
Their stomachs are full. Almost the same way as their lives recently. In her half closed green eyes there is almost no ice left. Her hand is still playing with the hemline of his sweater. He doesn't mind.
"You are as talkative as usual," she says, turning her head back. She sighs and somehow moves even closer.
Her jacket is on the floor, her leather boots are under the table. In his head there are so many concerns, so many things that he needs to fix, so many crimes that he needs to investigate. But this girl is ruining his whole evening with her daring presence… But what the hell? He doesn't mind.
"Are you going to stay?" he asks, looking at the boots.
"Maybe…"
"I will ask Alfred to prepare a room for you."
"No need. I am good… right here."
He lets his head fall to the back of the sofa. He is smiling.
"How do you do that?" he repeats almost whispering.
She doesn't hear him. Her posture is relaxed and her quiet breathing is similar to purring.
He can't ask a better question. How could he explain to her what she does to him? How she steals his rotten agonizing anxiety. How she lets his mind think of simpler things, simpler days. How she helps him breathe poisoned Gotham air and then eat a birthday cake. How she comes right when he needs her, saving his life over and over again.
And now.. How she puts the whole world in this small room with a fireplace. How she puts the whole universe in this easy breathing that escapes her lips. And he, despite everything, despite anything, doesn't mind it to the smallest extent possible.
He just can't put this in words. So he repeats:
"How do you do that?"
He doesn't know the answer and… he doesn't mind.