Bruce recognized the curve of her neck, the gait in her turn before anything else. As people milled around and gave him a better view, he momentarily forgets to breathe.
He's supposed to be used to it by now. They've been running into each other in galas and charity balls every so often. Most of the time she wears black, on occasion deep red. Once he'd seen her in emerald. They're usually sleek gowns in simple, modern cuts which she carry with unassuming grace. Even without the famous name, her beauty alone is enough to draw the attention of men and women alike. But Bruce had practiced not staring. He steals glances and makes smartass comments as part of his role as Bruce Wayne, but other than that, he doesn't indulge.
Tonight though...
She's draped in the palest blush. A gown that shows off her strong shoulders and skims over her curves. It's practically demure save for the occasional flash of leg from the slit. Her dark hair is swept in a loose chignon, a contrast to the drop earrings that glints against bare skin. She looked feminine, romantic – like a delicate creature to protect from this harsh world.
Of course she's anything but. Foolish, chauvinist man, Bruce can imagine her telling him. She doesn't need his protection or anyone else's. She can easily bring down this ballroom if she wants to.
She caught him staring and started walking his way. Damn, so much for practice.
As she drew closer, he found his heart hammering against his chest. Her alluring blue eyes were more defined than usual – darker, seductive. There's a soft flush on her cheeks. Curved lips deliciously crimson. As if the face blessed by Aphrodite needed any more help.
Then she frowned, an eyebrow perfectly arched. It took a beat before he realized she asked something.
"Hera, I want to club you when you act like this," she said in a low voice.
He never found it more convenient to be Bruce Wayne than now. He pasted on his best dopey smile and taking care to carry his voice, he leered, "You can take me down anytime you want Princess... preferably somewhere private."
He felt the sting on his cheek before he realized what happened. But it was fortunate he had wits enough to drive her away in a single line. If he hadn't, he would have given in to her tonight.
Bruce ignored the hurt that shone in her brilliant blue eyes and waited until she turned.
In familiar fashion, the affronted woman walked off while the happily scandalized crowd tittered. And like all the times before, the playboy gave an exaggerated shrug and grinned sheepishly. Only this time there's a dull ache in his chest that wouldn't go away.