Woah...it's been a hot second since I updated this. I hope you don't hate me too much. Anyway, here's day 7: Don't be afraid.
The cold breeze that blows past sends a chill down my spine and I shake my head, silently cursing that I did not take Shayera up on her offer to switch my current mission for monitor duty. Right now the red headed Thanagarian was seated in a comfortable chair, probably sipping on a hot cup of coffee, out of the cold. Granted, she was probably bored out of her mind, as nothing that required the League's help had come across in days, but at least she was warm. As I shiver once more and pull the cloak closer to my body, I realize Athena would be angry at me for not taking such a deal.
"I thought you didn't get cold."
I force myself to stop the shiver that threatens to fall down my spine, not wanting to give my current partner the satisfaction. Bruce knows I am an Amazon, he knows I can withstand much more than a mortal, but even I have my limits. And standing out in the snow with him for the last three hours, watching a shipyard from a nearby roof in Gotham, has made my skin as cold as the concrete under our feet.
I turn to Bruce, watching with annoyance as his fully masked face stares back at me. The slits of his cowl widen in amusement and I try my hardest not to roll my eyes at my partner for the evening. When he had asked me to help catch some small arms dealer in Gotham, part of me had a glimmer of hope that Bruce had finally caught on to the many years of flirting and hinting that we could be more. He knew how I felt- I had made that perfectly clear months ago. But Bruce was, is, stubborn, and he doesn't want to do anything that would jeopardize the relationship we have now, even if it could mean a most pleasant future for the both of us.
"Well your cold heart never seemed to phase me," I whip out with a smirk. I know if his lower face were visible I'd most certainly see his smile waiver. I have studied Bruce, have watched him work for a long time. I know I'm one of the few people who can deter his confidence. The thought alone makes my smirk widen. "Maybe you haven't been trying hard enough to push me away."
Bruce only shakes his head and turns away from me to glance down at the shipyard we've been watching for hours. No one is coming out in this weather, and although we both know this, neither will acknowledge the need to go our separate ways. I enjoy Bruce's company, as I know he enjoys mine; if only we could do this inside where I could feel my legs.
"Maybe not," he mumbles over his shoulder.
I watch as he shoves the pair of small binoculars into his utility belt. I pull the cloak tighter to my body, letting out a small sigh as I move closer to Bruce. I place my hand on his shoulder, feeling it tense under my fingers, as I whisper his name. He only shakes his head, refusing to look at me. But I am just as stubborn as he is. "Bruce," I call once more. This time he turns to look at me. "I don't understand why you won't allow-"
He presses a small button behind his ear and the lower part of his mask disappears into his suit, leaving only the cowl I have seen him wear for what seems like forever. "Diana," he warns, pressing his lips tightly together. He did not invite me here with him to have this conversation as we have had many nights before.
This time, however, I only shake my head. "No, Bruce," I say, taking a step closer to the man who has become my best friend. "You have no concrete evidence that this will end up badly," I say.
"And you have none that shows it won't," he rebuttals.
I respond with a small chuckle. This man is infuriating at times. "Bruce," I whisper once more, taking another step closer to him. "Don't be afraid." Before he can respond my lips are on his. My hand curls in the fabric of his uniform and I hold onto him for dear life, not knowing what his response will be. I know I am taking a risk kissing Bruce, but I've grown tired of him not seeing how great we can be.
I quietly take a deep breath, trying to will my mind to ignore the flames Bruce's fingers on my back are igniting. It has only been two weeks since I have felt his touch, but it feels like a lifetime. This man could make me melt with those hands and it is taking nearly all my strength not to come undone at the slightest touch. But I have to remember why I came here today, and what I have set for tomorrow. Tomorrow I will be back on the island. Tomorrow I will be away from Bruce. The thought brings me back to reality and I clear my throat, shifting in my seat, forcing Bruce's hand from my back.
Once again we sit in comfortable silence, each sipping on our respective drinks. Bruce takes a larger sip of his scotch than intended and struggles to clear his throat, but I don't dare turn and face him. He's nervous, and I know why.
"Alfred misses you," he says. He places the nearly empty glass on the bar and leans back.
I let out a small scoff. "And you?" I find myself asking nonchalantly. Bruce was never good with his feelings, so I know he'll just shrug off the question and move on.
To my surprise, however, he does not. "I do too," he confesses, and I have to force myself to stay calm as I turn to face him. His eyes don't dare meet mine as he continues to stare at the wall behind the bar, trying to focus on something other than my face. I'm a distraction for him, and he apparently has something important to say.
"I miss you too, Bruce," I find myself whispering, finally confessing that I have missed him more than I have let him believe. Truth is, I will always miss him. He was my best friend, the first man I loved. That is not something that I can just forget.
He cocks his head and looks at me, raising an eyebrow. "Just not enough to stay off the island," he says.
I try to hide my shock but Bruce is a master detective. He can see I am shocked he knows my plans no matter how hard I try to remain stoic. I could try to talk my way out of this, try to convince Bruce that he has been given incorrect information. But there is only one person who knew I was going back to the island, and it seems as if he has let this information slip to the one person I didn't need knowing; it's not J'onn's fault, I should've been more specific with who not to tell.
"Seems not," I respond, grabbing the wine glass and raising it to my lips. I swallow the last of my drink and gently place the glass on the bar, before I let my fingers gently work their way to my temple.
Bruce lets out a sad sigh. "Diana," he begins. He places a hand on my shoulder but I quickly shrug it off. He takes a deep breath and pushes his chair back, before he stands and extends his hand. "Dance with me."
Taken aback by his sudden request, I look up at Bruce and raise an eyebrow. Is this his attempt to get me to stay? Or has he finally given up and is accepting that after tomorrow I will not be a part of his life for a while. "Bruce," I whisper when I have finally found my voice.
He silences me by shaking his head. "Just one dance," he says. He watches as the internal struggle shows on my face. "Don't be afraid," he says with a smirk.
I glare at him, my eyebrows furrowing as I stare into his eyes. Without a word I place my hand in his and allow him to help me off the stool, before he leads me out and onto the dance floor. His hand quickly finds the small of my back and he pulls me close, letting out a small sigh when our chests press together. My hand instinctively finds the nape of his neck and we begin to sway to the music and for a moment I forget why I wanted to be anywhere other than Bruce's arms.
One more left!
