Little White Lie - Part 5
*There is one more part to this little mini story...*
*I am so happy to have written this*
The call came on a random Friday morning, you weren't even out of bed yet. You blindly reach for your phone, pressing answer before you could see who it was.
"Mmmm Hello?" You mumble groggily.
Bruce's voice is on the other end, sounding as if he's been awake forever.
"I know it's early. What are you doing tonight?"
You crack an eye open, laying your head back down. "Uh...mmm...no-nothing," You start to fall back asleep before registering that he was asking you a question.
"Why?" You mumble, taking a deep breath as you turned over.
"I have an event....and I'd like you to join me,"
Like an electric current circuited thorough your brain, you shoot up so fast your head almost hurt.
He chuckles on the other end, the sound making your heart flutter.
"Yeah. I'd like your company,"
You stifle a yawn, pulling your phone away. “Bruce it’s…6:45 am…what do I even wear to a party event thingy?”
“A gala… and I’ll send Alfred around noon,”
“Right Gala…how much is an outfit…what kind of outfit? I’m going back to sleep before I overthink…”
“See you tonight, and take your medicine,”
After hanging up, you couldn't go to sleep, one main thing on your mind.
You pull up the text thread between the two of you, contemplating.
You weren't crazy. Sleepily delusional yes. Crazy? No. The self care treats, him consistently coming to family functions, to your house just to check up on you, his behavior, and the cake...holy shit, the cake. You had to know.
'Are you asking me on a date?'
The text bubbles immediately appear as if we're about to text you as well. You waited with bated breath.
'What happened to going back to sleep?'
'I believe that was implied'
'You have to understand that you've become increasingly difficult to read'
'I invited you because I enjoy your company'
'I asked you specifically'
'I wouldn't have asked if I wanted anyone else there'
You blink at your phone, before stuffing your face in your pillow, letting out a scream.
Alfred quietly stands beside you as you hold the five dresses in your hands, the price tags staring you in the face. "Alfred..." You mumble, looking over to him calmly. He raises a brow, holding out a hand for you to place the one's you didn't want for him to put back.
You hold them close to your chest as if coveting them. "I can't choose," You start, and he lifts his gaze over the various colors. "Master Bruce loves a burgundy," Your face feels warm as he says that, and you advert your gaze.
"That's not...no. These are way too expensive," Alfred does his best to hide his smile. You've only met him twice now. The first time was when he literally called you one night expressing that Bruce hadn't eaten anything and just about begged you to convince him otherwise. The second was when Alfred dropped off some flowers for your grandmother.
"I don't believe you have to worry about spending a dime. And trust, these don't even dent Master Bruce's pockets,"
"He's impossible," You reply, holding up the burgundy one that Alfred pointed out. It was soft, almost velvet like with a deep V-neck that you weren't even sure would hold up the girlies. Mind you, your grandma already had a set on her and passed it to every girl within the family.
"I need to find at the bra section...."
You fiddle with your hair one more time, keeping them back and gathering a few from the sides of your head to secure at the back. You rub your lips together one more time, the glossy red matching your dress. You press your fingers against your cheek, your makeup having set already.
It was amazing what a strapless bra could do in this dress, and you make a mental note not to bend too much. Would you do a lot of bending?
You turn away from the mirror just as Alfred is popping his head in. "Sorry to startle you. Are you ready?" You swallow, looking down at yourself. "I think so. Is this...okay?"
Alfred passes a glance over at you, eyeing your ankle brace. "You look stunning. Master Wayne will be pleased to know your boot is gone," You look down at your foot, grimacing slightly. "Does it look weird? Should I take it off?"
"Master Bruce would disagree..."
"Bruce won't even notice,"
"Are you sure about the ankle brace?" Alfred repeats as the car pulls to a stop, placing said ankle brace in his pocket. You nod to yourself. "I'll be fine. Oh my god. There's so many cars and...woah..." You'd never seen so many people in your life. So many cars. So many lights and cameras.
The venue was huge, massive even. You pull your purse tighter to you as you could feel the nerves creeping up on you.
When the door opened, you felt ashamed to say the nerves kind of melted away when you saw Bruce's face. He's holding out a hand, and you take it without hesitation, stepping out into the cool air.
He glances over you, offering his arm to you. You gently place your hand, looking around nervously. His voice is soft against your ear. "You look beautiful," You look up at him, a small smile on your lips. "You can say I look utterly out of place, it's fine," He cracks a small smile before leading you towards grand doors you've never seen up close.
The moment you stepped inside, everything felt....different. Like a new world.
Trays with small bites of food. Stations with wine glasses that were rotated by people dressed in white and black aprons. Men with silk like tuxedos, women in floor-length evening gowns. A live band.
Almost immediately, you and Bruce were handed glasses and the mingling began.
Donors. Doctors. Captains. Businessmen and women. Many came to talk to Bruce ranging from proposals to stock markets. Posh laughter. And stares, god the stares. Some ignored you altogether while others asked you brief questions. Some women would 'small talk', talking about their husbands and their 'benefits'. You just smiled and nodded.
You guys swept from person to person. Conversation to conversation. Bruce even told jokes. Jokes you barely understood. And they laughed, eating it up like what he was saying was the Bible.
You didn't stray far, sometimes mingling on your own, feeling every bit of confused and uncomfortable with every smile and weird laugh.
It was a lot. From the music to the hundreds of people, and the chattering.
Plus, your ankle was starting to become uncomfortable.
It had been two hours at best before you couldn't take it any more. You needed a breather. After asking where the nearest balcony was, you quietly slipped away.
The night air felt cool, dulling the throbbing ache that was settling in your ankle. The music was softer, allowing your head to clear. Just a little.
Bruce's world was different from yours.
Yours was messy. A little discombobulated at times. But comfortable.
You felt every eye on you. As if they knew you weren't one of them. Your dress suddenly felt uncomfortable and you wanted to trade it for some sweats and a t-shirt right about now.
You also wished you had your brace. Alfred was right.
You look upon the city, the lights, the homes, the cars. It was breathtaking. Just...different.
You only intended to leave for a few minutes, but those few minutes may have been too long. You let go of the railing, wincing as you took a step. It's a sharp pain that shoots up your leg and you gasp. Leaning against the railing, you look down, slightly rolling your ankle.
Carefully, you make your way back into the muted hall, leaning against the wall as you looked at the series of corridors. Which one did you come through?
The music felt like it was coming through every single one, the lighting all the same. You go for the middle one, something about the wall that appeared familiar.
As you start to take a few steps, you're left gasping with the more pressure you added to your foot. "Ow....okay..." You lean against the wall again as you cross into this corridor, finding another set of halls and doors. The music seemed closer though.
You start to weave your way through various doors and halls, your steps becoming increasingly slow. Every hall looked familiar and every door seemed one step closer, but you couldn't find your way back. Back to the gala. Back to Bruce. If you could just find Bruce. He'd know what to do.
After various stairwells, and music that sounded too muffled to be right, your eyes were starting to burn at the corners. You were tire, frustrated, and your whole foot throbbed.
The only thing going through your mind was two things: You've ruined the night and you were in pain.
People were probably already talking about how his date didn't even stay by his side all night.
Bruce was probably somewhere telling a joke all while wondering where you've gone. You were supposed to be his date for the evening and it sure wasn't looking the part. You've been gone for over half an hour now.
This hallway feels too long, but the doors up ahead seem brighter than the others and you can hear more voices. Maybe you've found it. Maybe you can still keep up. You'd have to put your shoe back on, but you were close now.
The cool tile is wonderful against your foot, and you have no choice but to lean away from the wall as the hallway ended and opened up to a small gathering room. It was a little dark, but the lights from the parts doors help give you a little bit of comfort.
As you take another step, the pain flares, and your knee buckles. Your balance teeters and you reach out a hand to brace yourself. A useless thing to do as your other foot gives out too.
A sound leaves you, one that sounds like a cry. A mixture of frustration and the ached that had now settled over your foot completely. Your little clutch clatters to the side, your braids coming undone from the clip you had them in.
A deep sigh leaves you, and your chest feels heavy. You've definitely ruined the night. You were already too embarrassed to yell for any sort of help. Not that anyone would hear you.
You'd rather sit in this inkling darkness and hoped Bruce would eventually come looking for you. There was no table or chair or...stairs.
They catch at the corner of your eye, but there's a railing. It wasn't close, but you could scoot, and get yourself into a standing position. You still needed to get across the room, but being by stairs would be way better.
You slowly scoot sideways, reaching for the banister. You grasp onto it with all your strength, pulling yourself up slowly.
The moment you even shift your leg, you're reaching down with a hand to favor your leg. You barely touch it, afraid it'll hurt more.
Your name is being called, and you look up sharply, seeing Bruce's silhouette. You weren't sure where he came from but you were grateful. "I'm fine," You hurriedly reply, voice cracking on 'fine'.
Bruce's steps are hurried, and you can practically feel him the closer he gets. "I'm sorry, I got lost-and my ankle is just a little sore but I can walk," You're looking back down at your foot, lowering it to the floor faster than you should. You let go of the railing as you did so. Hoping to prove to him and yourself that you were indeed fine.
It's an involuntary gasp that leaves you the moment you do so, and you're stumbling forward. Hands are catching you. One at the waist, and the other at the elbow.
Bruce's grip is firm and unwavering as he braces you against him. "You're not fine," He's looking down at you, your foot once again elevated off the ground.
"You're not walking," You attempt to lower your leg, and his hand is slipping from your elbow and to your thigh, fingers gripping your semi-bare leg. "No,"
He's looking at you then, voice soft but eyes firm. "You can lean against me or I'm carrying you," "Bruce-no," "There's no third option. What do you want?" Your lips finally frown, and you're letting out a sigh. "I don't want people to stare,"
His eyes soften, just a little.
"I don't care about them," You advert your gaze before looking down at yourself. "I just don't want to hurt anymore," With those words, he nods, and with ease, he shifts, bringing his hand underneath your legs, effectively lifting you. You wrap your arms around his neck, and he brings you closer.
He turns, bending to swoop up your shoe and clutch.
"I can sit somewhere and I'll be-," "No. We're done for the night,"
You open your mouth to protest, and he silences you with a simple stare.
You lean your head against his shoulder, hiding your face from the flash of lights, murmurs, and stares.
Bruce gently rolls your ankle, and your leg jerks. "Sorry," He murmurs, carefully adjusting his grip as you leaned your head against his couch.
"I'm sorry I ruined your night," You tense as the cool compress is being placed, and you lift your head to look at him.
He'd since taken off his top, his black button down slightly open and rolled up to his elbows. "You didn't ruin anything," "You left early because of me," "Yes,"
You huff, shifting a bit. "My night isn't ruined. I spent hours mingling with people who forgot each other's name the moment they were spoken. I didn't worry about them. Just you,"
You look away from his gaze, fiddling with the shirt he let you borrow. "You were worried about me?" "You disappeared, and you kept wincing every five minutes," "You counted?"
The question was meant to be humorous, but your tone was just as soft. "I noticed,"
He takes one of your hands, causing you to look back up at him. "You took off your brace," "My outfit looked weird," "Weird to who?" "Your...friends," He lets out a small chuckle. "They're not my friends, and you're the realest person to ever attend such a party thingy," You smile softly. "A gala," You reply. "Yeah that..."
You swallow as you stare at him. His face calm, but his eyes held something else.
Your heart stutters as he runs his thumb across the back of your hand.
"Bruce?" You question softly, unsure of what you wanted to asked him. Unsure of what you were questioning.
His brows raise, and you open and close your mouth, huffing quietly. "Master Wayne? Telephone," Alfred's voice carries from across the room, but Bruce doesn't move. Or stop looking out you.
"It can wait," He replies.
Alfred pauses for a moment, his tone becoming a little urgent. "I'm afraid not. It's an important phone call about one of your sky accounts," You lean back, moving your hands. "You should get that," Bruce looks down at his empty hand before nodding. "Rest,"
You nod slowly, watching him get up. You watch his back, your mind for once quieting about the gala. Now all you could think about was him.
Were either of you pretending anymore?
Last part will be up at like midnight or tomorrow and I promiseeeeeeee ya'll are gonna LOVE IT
