Batman: Bruce Wayne

You could have accepted her offer. You could be caressing her waist, giving her sweet, passionate kisses until both of your mouths are swollen. You could tell her how much you love her and all of that mushy junk. All of that you could of done, and yet you say no.

"Shut up," I muttered to myself. The moment I stepped out of that library, my conscience seemed to kick in to regret mode, and banter me with "could haves" and "now won'ts." It was driving me insane. I was ready to bang my head against the corner of a desk.

All you have to do is turn around. tell her your sorry. Say you didn't mean it. She's still there. She'll understand. She even said so, remember?

I groaned. Looks like I'm going to take the guilt trip for awhile.

Even though my heart felt like it's been stabbed with Alexander the Great's sword, my mind felt like it was on Cloud 9. I knew what I was doing was only for the best of her safety. If I truly loved her, the best I thing I would do for her is to push her away from me. And though it was hard...it was possible.

Slow steps will do it.

I hesitated and eventually stopped. I knew she was still in the library. My conscience was right. All I had to do was turn around and say I was sorry. Everything would change to the way I want it. And then I can caress her again. But that wouldn't be right. So instead, I continued forward to class. Class, which, I couldn't focus on.

The whole time, my usual attentiveness was destroyed by piercing thoughts of Selina's eyes. How those deep emerald green colors would pore deep into you and read whatever your body didn't suggest. How she'd take it and use it as her weapon, and at the same time treat the wound she caused with it.

It annoyed me how I couldn't get that girl off my mind. I wanted her. Needed her. I loved her. And I just realized it. My heart ached for her touch. My hands trembled at the long period of time without holding her. My mouth quivered nervously, begging for another kiss. But after what I did to her, I knew she would never give me another chance. The chance...I didn't deserve.

Batman is a part of me. If she dates me, she dates Batman. And when she dates Batman...it sets off the wrong idea to all of Batman's enemies. It was times like these that make me which I was never that Caped Crusader. But the very thought of it made me feel selfish. I was thinking of myself before others. My parents thought of me before themselves. Why can't I do the same?

The thought of my parents made me a little more depressed each day. Something inside me told me I was partially insane, that I wanted to do die. Batman was just a long-term suicide plot, and I was truthfully awaiting the day it kicked into action. But another part of me knew that wasn't true. At least...I thought so.

The day went by slowly, and by slowly I mean ever so slowly. So slow that sometimes I felt the clock was going backwards. But in the end, the day did eventually end, and as I walked home, took a shower, and zipped up my usual night time outfit, nighttime did fall.

For a brief second I considered skipping the whole Bat thing for tonight and just sleeping, just kicking it in early for today, so I can actually have time to think and process things. I even found myself accidentally starting to remove my cape, but I quickly put it back on once I realized what I was doing.

Mindlessly, I opened the garage and stepped out. Another night, of course. Quietly I wished for Catwoman to appear again tonight. Not because I needed someone to talk to, but simply because I needed to let my anger out. And since she's the street's main villain these days, she's the perfect one to take out.

But that was a wish.

And a wish it only was. I think.

Catwoman: Selina Kyle

I quietly sat on my bed, twinkling my just-done toes, waiting for them to dry so I could put on the second coat. Secretly, when I do my nails, it means I'm thinking. I'm letting out my feelings in a brief manner.

When I'm angry, I would take my nail marker and draw on messy stripes colliding and binding with each other creating a giant picture in the eyes of few. When I was happy, I would glue on stickers of roses and skulls and puny little angel wings. And when I was sad, I'd paint my nails something dark colored besides black, and sometimes be as blunt as to draw a sad face on it.

But the sad face would only be in the direction of me, since it'd be upside down. It would supposedly "smile" to others, which portrayed my feelings exactly.

Lola walked in, a cookie tray in her hand, a phone on the other. "Here. You looked like you needed some extra calories so I went ahead and made some fattening chocolate chip cookies. So eat up!" She set the tray down next to me and looked at me with a big fake grin. I sighed.

"I'm not hungry, L."

"I knew you'd say that. C'mon, Sel, what the hell? These took a shitload of hours to make, and I made them with lots of love and cold, hard dough. What more could you ask for? A candle?" she asked teasingly. I knew she was trying to make me laugh, but something inside me just wasn't in the mood.

She frowned. "Something the matter? You need to talk about something with me?"

I fake-laughed and pretended to smile. "I'm fine, L. But thanks. And the cookies are probably great, just like always." I took one and bit into it. "See? I knew it. They're delicious." I held up the bitten cookie as proof for her beady eyes staring at me, narrowed and ready to examine.

"You're hiding something, aren't ya."

"No no!"

"That's fine. Benefit of the doubt. But if I find out you don't wanna tell me something...I'll be so heartbroken," she mocked, and pretended to stab her heart. She laughed. "Hope ya feel better, Sel." And she walked off, dialing a number on the phone in her hand.

I sighed and put the cookie down. There's no way I'm going to tell Lola about this. I can't believe it's gone to the point where I have to hide things from Lola, my best friend. The only person in this world who actually gives a damn about me. I use to think there were two people...until that person proved me wrong.

Only one thing could get rid of my anger right now.

And suddenly...a huge grin appeared on my face.

~~~~CW~~~~

"This is the LIFE!" I called out to no one in particular. I continued to sit there on the edge of the roof, drink in my right hand, in my Catwoman costume, just reminiscing on the good times. I already knew I was insane. I was never normal. If I was normal, this outfit would have never been on me in the first place. But Catwoman was my drug. I needed it. It lifts me in good spirits.

I swung my legs, watching my thighs collide with the hard concrete roof. Sometimes I would think about my parents. I hated them with a fiery passion. They left me. Without even saying goodbye to their only daughter.

My mother died when I was only seven years old. She had hanged herself from all the pain she had to go through everyday. Ever since then, my father went crazy. So he decided to use me as his wife instead, to get all his anger out. There would be days when he was in a good mood, and would actually give me dinner. There would be days when he would beat me after coming home from a day of work. And then there were days when he would touch me in ways fathers should never touch their daughters. I don't know what came over me, but soon I finally called Child Control on him, when I was 12.

"You monster! That's all you are! A lying, cheap, slutty MONSTER!"

The words he unleashed at me the day he got arrested were stinging, leaving a burn in my heart. But knowing the fact that he's behind bars and I'm living my life out to its limits made me smile. Because in the end, I came out on top.

I heard heavy footsteps behind me, but I didn't bother turning around.

"You're back," a familiar, grunted voice greeted. I knew exactly who it was. He made himself be heard on purpose. If he was actually plotting something, he would've done his Silent Take-down or something. And so, I smiled. Even though he couldn't see it because my back was towards him, he could still sense my grin.

"Why wouldn't I be? These streets would be empty without me. You, on the other hand, truly have no business to be here. Go back to where you used to. We don't need you here," I laughed, waving my glass around. Suddenly, an arrow shot through my glass, shattering it into many pieces. The wine I had been drinking stained the roof an off-red. I sucked on the cut on my index finger and stood up, slowly turning toward him. Sure enough, it was Batman. And he had an expression of malice.

"Hmph," I said. "You have nerve. Might I ask what has you so pissed?"

He didn't answer my question. He bit down on his jaw, flexing his outer jawline. I paced around him. "I didn't actually do anything, Bats. Unless you're an enforcer of underage drinking," I cooed. Out of nowhere, he grabbed my wrist and threw me over him. I slid on my feet, taking a hard land.

"Nice one," I grunted in pain. I slowly stood up and brushed my clothes off. "However, you should know that cats...always, land on their feet." And with that I threw a sensitizer on the floor, making purple smoke appear. Batman started to cough. Immediately, I took the chance and reached for his face, ejecting my claws. Alarmed and fully aware, he grabbed my left hand, bending it backwards a whole new level. I screamed and clawed his chest instead.

He groaned and released me, stumbling backwards in pain. Blood seeped through his outfit in three broken lines on his chest. He quickly pulled out a blade and threw it at me. It landed on the floor next to me. "You missed," I said bluntly.

Batman just grinned.

Suddenly, the blade blew up, blowing chunks of sparking material towards me. I flew backward, sliding on my back against the roof. I moaned in pain. Then, I lightly smirked. "Ouch. That's gonna hurt." Batman finally stood up straight, letting go of his chest, and slowly backed away.

Only in hell will I let someone who just comes and attack me get away without a good beating.

And so, I pounce up and push him over, making him fall down to the roof, back on the floor. I pinned his hands down and maniacally grinned. "Now," I stated. "Let's see your true colors." Batman's mask widened along with his eyes. He struggled to release himself, but to no avail succeeded against my strong grip.

Slowly but quick enough, I pulled off his mask. "Aha! So you're actually-" I stopped. I even frowned a little. "Wait..." I started. But instead, without conversing, he pushed me off. I landed on my shoulder, making me yelp. Without even reaching for the mask, he lifted his cape and jumped, floating away. I didn't bother chasing after him. I was too in shock. Batman, the man who I had just tassled with, the man I despised, my enemy...

Was Bruce Wayne.