#halfofmysoul

Bruce Wayne is accidentally placed as an Emergency Contact in your file. Now he's playing boyfriend.

Part 1

"Grandma," You just about whine, leaning your head back against the pillow. "What? I was your age when I met your grandfather," Your eyes roll as you stare up at the hospital ceiling.

"You're beautiful, and your mother tells me that there are some fine gentlemen that work with you. We can find you a boyfriend, or do you already have a man?" Her eyebrows raise and she's smiling at you.

"Ugh grandma! I've already twisted my ankle in front of people I work with. Do we have to have this conversation?" You lift your head briefly, internally groaning once again as he smile had widened.

You sigh tiredly, shaking your head.

"Fine, yes, I have a boyfriend. We just started dating," You regret the words the moment you say them, but anything to get her off your back. She would never know and you can say the two of you broke up if she asked again later.

"What's his name? How'd you meet? Does he work with you? How old is he?" Your grandma fired off questions, and you shift slightly, wincing as your ankle ached. "Um..."

You're briefly saved by a knock on the door to your room. Your nurse pops her head in, giving you a small smile, her eyes sweeping the room. "Miss? Your boyfriend is here. A Mr. Bruce Wayne,"

You sit up so fast you almost give yourself whiplash. Did she...

She's backing out and the door is opening wider, revealing none other than the infamous Bruce Wayne himself. He was dressed in a button down shirt, slacks, and dress shoes.You blink a few times, mouth slightly agape.

"....No...." You shake your head, holding up your hands. There was no possible way that he was here, for you. Which begged another question, why? How? This wasn't good.

You look to your grandmother, ready to just tell her that this was a big mistake or misunderstanding.

"....Yes?" He replies, stepping further into the room.

Your grandma comes to a stand, extending out her hand.

Oh....shit

*****

You're being wheeled to the front desk, a playboy billionaire at your side. "I really don't know how this happened," You murmur, shaking your head.

"Mistakes happen," Bruce replies easily, a chuckle escaping him briefly. It just fueled your embarrassment even more. "Once we sort this out, we will be on our separate ways. Thanks for not...you know..." You glance up at him, shrugging your shoulders.

"Ratting you out to your nice grandmother?" You suck in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. "You don't even know her!" "True, and I don't know you, but she seems nice,"

You ignore his comment, looking up at the nurse. "Hi...I think there's been a mistake..."

Bruce Wayne is accidentally placed as an Emergency Contact in your file. Now he's playing boyfriend.

Completed 🦇

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Day One - Hope

Summary: After traveling to a remote cabin to rekindle a past flame, you're left snowed in with a stranger.

'I'm about twenty minutes away ☺️'

A text you literally sent twenty minutes ago, your phone just now buzzing in response.

'👍🏿'

You glance at it with a feeling of indifference, raising a brow.

Your car gently pulls to a stop and you put it in park, squinting your eyes at the light snow.

When your ex boyfriend reached out to you with that hey, can we talk text, you jumped at the opportunity. Why? You still felt something. Slow texting turned back into small light dates, and maybe a movie night at your place.

This weekend trip though would change that. When you told him you booked a romantic getaway, he was down and told you he'd meet you. Four hours later, and here you were.

The cabin was nice, the large 12 in dark lettering a contrast against the snow. Your brows furrow at the smoke from chimney, a small smile growing on your lips. He was already here.

Turning off the car, you zipped up your coat, pulling down the visor. You tug the ends of your freshly done perm into the hood, glancing over at the passenger seat.

The bottle of wine was still nuzzled into the bag of snacks and chocolates. You braced yourself to get out of the car. You were not a big fan of the cold, but it definitely made up in its own way.

You step out with your bag, the cold wind slowly breezing by. You make haste grabbing your suitcase from the backseat, making sure you pulled up the electronic passkey on your phone.

Your heart was beating like crazy, your nerves flowing through you more than you liked to admit. Your boots slosh in the snow, and you make your way to the door, holding your phone near the reader.

It beeps before the internal lock clicks, and there's a brief feeling of warmth as you open the door. You push it open enough to walk in, turning around to quickly close it behind you. You sigh softly, leaning your forehead against the back of the door.

You push down your hood before slowly turning around.

You come face to face with the kitchen. Small and cozy with a small dining room table and two chairs. A cute little kitchenette with-

"You're not my ex-boyfriend," You blurt, blinking a few times to process the stranger in the kitchen. He was definitely not your ex-boyfriend. He was completely different. Taller with dark black curly hair, a thick beard with pale skin hidden beneath a checkered flannel that rolled to his elbows. He had on light jeans, and his feet were bare.

There's a mug in his hand, partly to his lips as he's looking at you, his glasses partially fogging. He clears his throat before speaking, voice soft but gruff in a way that surprised you.

"I'd hope not," He replies, and you look down at your phone. "Maybe I've got the wrong cabin," You mumble, pulling up your confirmation email. You scroll through, finding your name, the date, and cabin number. "Nope, I'm right, you must have the wrong cabin,"

You can hear the keys on his phone as he tapped. "Clark Kent, 1:45PM, Cabin 12. I have the right cabin. It seems we were accidentally double booked," You softly groan, setting your bag on the nearby desk table.

"Gotta be kidding me," This 'Clark' is looking over at you, eyes trailing down as you danced from foot to foot. "Bathroom is in the bedroom, I'll see if I can call someone," You eye him for a moment before speedily walking towards the only room.

You don't take the time to really look around, only seeing the King sized bed neatly made.

You quickly do your business, washing your hands with the most delicious scented soap you've ever smelt. Must've come with the cabin. You check yourself in the mirror, sighing.

So if Clark was here, where was your ex? You pull out your phone, walking out of the bathroom.

Your eyes light up at the notification on your phone. You open it up, your smile quickly turning into a frown.

Sorry. Roads are awful. I'm not gonna make it tonight. Get some rest. We'll talk tomorrow.

A part of you is disappointed, but you ignore it, still hoping for tomorrow.

You slip your phone back in your pocket, heading back out towards the kitchen seeing Clark hanging up his phone.

You raise a brow, leaning against a nearby wall. "So, what's the verdict Mr. Kent?" He's giving you a look, slipping his phone into his pocket. "The verdict is, we are stuck in this cabin together. The roads are getting kind of nasty out there, and unless the weather gives..."

You sigh softly, looking towards the semi-ope window. "If you're expecting company, I can figure something out. Stay out in the living room...." He trails off softly. You shake your head. "No I won't put you out the room tonight. He's not coming down tonight anyway. Roads are bad,"

You miss the way his brow raises, but he's turning back to the stove.

You pull out your phone to text him the current situation, the bubbles appearing immediately.

Seriously? That's crazy. As long as you're okay. Guess it makes me feel a little better knowing you're not alone out there. We'll figure it out tomorrow.

You grunt softly in response, rolling your eyes. Of course.

"Want some hot chocolate?" You glance over at Clark, rubbing your glossed lips together. "Sure. Got any marshmallows?"

Cabin 12

The fireplace crackled nearby as you lightly laughed. "Got another book! Got any 6's?"

On your first night in a cabin you didn't expect to be playing cards with a stranger, but here you were. You made some chicken and rice soup and Clark made some grilled cheese that tasted better than you have ever made it.

Now you were playing cards, ignoring the little voice in the back of your head that kept saying he hasn't even texted you since earlier

Despite how the game started, Clark won, and offered to clean up after the third yawn you let out. "It's okay. I got it," You cover your mouth again, mumbling out a sorry.

"Are there any spare sheets anywhere for the couch?" You question. Clark looks over his shoulder, a confused look crossing his features. "You can take the bed. I have everything I need for the living room," "Clark...." "No. Please. You've driven a few hours already and don't need to sleep on the pull out. Take it,"

You decide not to argue, grabbing the blanket you packed.

"Good night," He calls, and you mumble out a good night.

After closing the door, you set your phone on the dresser, briefly glancing at it.

Nothing.

Summary: Peter’s first time with you.

He almost couldn’t take it. The way you squirmed and whimpered. The little sounds you made, growing louder until he had no choice but to cover your mouth with a hand, softly groaning into your skin.

“Shhh princess…gotta be-quiet…” he breathes, softly groaning once more. You were so wet, those thick thighs trembling around his waist. It’s been a while for him, he couldn’t lie.

He’s groaning into your skin as he rocks his hips, your muffled whine making him shudder. You were going to wake his roommates….he just knew it.

“I know…I know….” He coos, his dark eyes meeting your now tearing gaze. “Fuck…” Despite him trying to control your vocal cords, he couldn’t muffle the sound of his skin pounding against yours under the sheets. Soft and muffled, but a sound nonetheless. Your muffled cry matched each tap of his hips, your nails digging into his abdomen. “Almost there…” He whispers, his lips finding your neck and then your ear. “Cum on my cock princess…all over it…you look so pretty…you feel so good…” Your eyes are rolling at his words, toes curling behind his ears.

His teeth press into the side of your neck as you completely drench him on command, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs.

He’s groaning into your neck, his pace becoming sloppy as he gets in a few more strokes, his sweaty skin molding against yours. He’s grunting then, thick splotches of cum landing on your lower abdomen and upper thighs. “Fuck,” He gasps, the tip of his still hard cock lightly tapping against your stomach.

You’re flinching away from his nimble fingers as he passes them along your clit. He’s humming to himself, still breathing heavily. Your breath comes out it slight pants, your shaking fingers gripping his forearm. “P-Peter…” You moan softly, your gaze clearing just slightly to see his face. The pale light that filtered through the blinds shined on his face. His sweaty forehead, damp hair, the rise and fall of his shoulders. His eyes. His dark eyes staring into you. Waiting. Wanting, but waiting.

As if subconsciously telling yourself what you wanted, your legs are spreading once more, your eyes rolling back as the tip slowly drifts downward. A whimper escapes you and then a whine as you slowly glides himself inside of you, cock pulsating with just the idea of it.

You’re suddenly locking eyes with him as the soft rumbling noise occurs. A moment and action that puts you back to where it started. Where the teasing started. Your face twists as you try to stifle your moan, your hand wildly reaching for a barrier, a pillow. You wouldn’t be able to contain yourself.

He’s kind enough to hand you one, his free hand softly squeezing your hip. The moment the suction settles over your clit, he starts to move, his strokes slow and deliberate. Your cries were already starting. Your body was twisting, despite his grip tightening on you.

You had no idea the monster you created. He watches your hands, brown skin stark against the white pillow, pressing to conceal the noises coming from your mouth. Your breasts bounced with every push. Your legs quivered underneath his touch.

Bruce Wayne didn't get jealous, but there was some emotion there when he walked into your living room to see flowers. He could hear you absentmindedly moving around in the kitchen, a part of him wanting to scold you.

You ended up re-twisting your ankle thus lengthening your healing process. It wasn't even two weeks ago at the gala and Bruce swore you were trying to kill him.

He grabs the little card attached to the vase, the name Marcus neatly written. He could buy you better flowers. One was already wilting.

Bruce continues his way inside, smelling the coffee brewing. "You got flowers,"

You turn to look at him over your shoulder, giving him a tired smile. "Good morning to you too. Yeah, a coworker gave them to me," "You stopped by your job? I would have taken you," You turn back to the coffee mug, doing your best to hide your smile.

"No actually, he came by," You carefully poured the hot liquid into the cup, silence greeting you. "Hmmm," "Bruce..." "What?"

You turn to him, raising a brow. "Are you...jealous?" He leans against the doorframe of your kitchen, crossing his arms. "No," You blow on your coffee, doing your best to hide your smile. "If I was?"

"That would for sure complicate things," You turn back, reaching for another cup, missing the way his lips pulled into a frown.

You never realized how boring it could be stuck at home, but in just two days, you'd be with your family at the annual family reunion. It would be fun, seeing cousins you haven't seen in a while, catching up on the younger children, and just relaxing with various types of foods.

Mmmm. Sweet potato pie. Your grandma made a pie every time for any special occasion.

Your cell rings, and you reach over with ease, picking up your phone.

"Speak of the devil..." You press answer. "Hi Grandma," You answer, pausing the television. You could hear various voices in the background, and you smile to yourself. "Hi baby. What does Bruce like to eat?" You sit up a bit, sure that you've heard wrong. "What?" You reply instead.

"Girl, don't play with me. Is he allergic to anything?" You blink a few times, brows raising in surprise. "...Why...why are you asking?" You can hear her moving around pots and pans, and she's giving you an exasperated sigh. Wonder where you got that from.

"I invited him to the family reunion ,"

Everything stopped. Time. Your breathing. Even the phone call.

"YOU DID WHAT?!"

"Child you don't have to yell at me. Yes I invited him. It's about time you introduced him. Now is he allergic to anything?" You pass a hand along your face. "Um...not that I know of,"

"Okay great. We will see the two of you on Sunday! Love you!"

The call disconnects and you stare at your phone in confusion.

You immediately dial Bruce, and it rings a few times before he answers. His voice is smooth, and you can't tell if it annoyed you or not.

Hello?

"You can't come," You immediately blurt, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

Good afternoon to you too.

"My grandmother invited you to the family reunion on Sunday,"

There's a pause and you can just about hear the humor.

"Yes,"

"...You already know?"

"She was very persuasive,"

"You've mentioned that. Why would you say yes?"

"Seemed rude to decline...if you haven't heard, I am a gentleman,"

"....."

*******

Sunday Dinner

You stand at the door, hearing the old school music playing from the backyard. You bite your lip, your heart hammering in your chest.

"We've only been dating for a few months," You murmur, looking over at him. He looks down at you with a smile. "Yes,"

"And we met at one of your party things," "A gala," "Yeah...a gala whatever,"

"We're taking things slow, so..." Bruce is halting you by wrapping an around your shoulders. "I've got it," Before he could knock, the door was opening, your grandmother standing there, cooking spoon in hand.

The apron she had on was covered in flour.

"Bruce! So glad you could make it! Come in, come in," Bruce is letting you go first, a hand pressing at your back as you carefully walked in, your boot hitting against the hardwood floor.

The door is closing behind you, and the whiff of food hits you tenfold. Your stomach rumbles, and you're being swept away by one of your cousins, Bruce following behind your grandmother.

The night went smoother than you thought it would. You caught up with some family members, playing video games with the younger ones, and cards with the older ones.

You'd periodically look around for Bruce, only to find him in random areas of the house. With your grandma in the kitchen. With your dad near the grill outside. At the spades table, watching quietly.

Sitting beside your younger cousins who were giddy and excited to see someone so handsome. One of your cousins chatted his ear off about college exams, and Bruce questioned him on various topics and study questions that were preprinted out to help.

He was awkwardly playing some fighting video game. It was some new Batman game. As he once again loses, he's glancing over at you as if feeling your eyes on him. You're caught off guard by the small smile he gives you, his hair slightly falling in his eyes.

Your lips automatically pull into a smile, and he's standing before coming over to you. He sits beside you on the couch, his legs brushing against yours. "So, how am I doing?" He whispers against your ear, his arm resting behind your head.

You look around the room, the overlapping voices and laughter seemingly normal. "Everyone seems to like you," "Not surprising," You nudge him with your elbow. He's chuckling lowly. "Almost everyone," He replies, and you look up at him confused. Everybody was downright in love with him. And it wasn't because he was rich.

He's giving you a pointed look and you're tilting your head at him. "Be so for real. I like you," He's raising a brow. "Because you have to," You glower at him and before you could say anything else, your grandma's voice rings out. "DINNER! EVERYBODY OUTSIDE!" Those words activated a swarm. The children were the first to stand, running from the living room and towards the kitchen to get to the backyard.

Adults started to stand, and clamber their way out as well. Bruce stands first, and you attempt to get yourself up but he's offering a hand. You glance up at him as if wary, taking it seconds later. His grip is firm, and he leads you to the backyard as if he knew the layout.

Multiple tables were set up, seats and food trays laid upon tables. You start to make your way towards the forming line before Bruce is steering you towards a table. "Hey wait," You start to protest, but he's pulling out your chair, and you sit with a small huff.

"I can fix my own plate," "I know," He's flashing you a million dollar smile before leaving you unattended. "He doesn't even know what I like," You grumble, looking over at him as he stepped in line.

It took a few minutes for him to return, the music lowering to a comfortable volume.

He sees a plate down in front of you. Two hot dogs, beans, coleslaw, and corn on the cob. With a bowl of seasonings on the side.

You grab your fork, side eyeing him as he sits next to you. His plate is twice as loaded with yours with a burger, ribs, beans, coleslaw, and sauerkraut. Your nose wrinkles. "You like sauerkraut?" He looks down at it and shrugs. "Never tried it,"

He looks down at your plate. "Did I get everything you wanted?" Your lips purse, having nothing to complain about. "Yes....extra beans would've been nice," He starts to get up, and you reach for his arm. "Bruce, I'm kidding. Eat," You slightly chuckle, and he sits back down.

At first conversation is silent, and you watch as he dips his fork in the sauerkraut. "You put it on your hotdog," You pipe up, reaching over to assist him. "Like this. I personally like to add my beans but to each their own,"

You help him with his hotdog, and his nose wrinkles as well. "Yeah...the smell is...not my favorite either," Your grandma comes to sit across from the two of you as Bruce tries his hotdog. You reach for your juice, the refreshing liquid cool down the throat. "Talking about kids?"

Your eyes widen and you sputter up your drink, coughing.

Bruce is setting down his food, reaching across to pat your back. He was slowly chewing his food, a humored expression on his face. Did he find everything humorous?

"Gran!" You call out, and she's giving you a playful smile. "Oh I was just kidding....maybe,"

*****

You hold a hand to your stomach as Bruce walks you to your door. "Gosh, I'm so full," You mumble, the small pie in your hand feeling heavy. "That was delicious," Bruce comments. "Except for the Chitlins," You let out a slight laugh, shaking your head. "I told you that you wouldn't like it,"

"I should have listened to you,"

You come to a stop at the stoop, and you turn to him. "Yes...thank you. You didn't have to come," He straightens his jacket, keeping eye contact with you. "I know," You wait for him to elaborate, but he says nothing.

"Then why did you?"

He shrugs. "I was promised dessert," You snort, shaking your head. "You're impossible," "You've mentioned that...you should head inside. It's late,"

You nod to yourself, fishing out your key. Bruce waits for you to head inside before taking his leave.

You watch from the window as he drives away, a small smile growing on your face.

Your lips immediately pull into a frown the moment you felt yourself smiling. Fuck.

Your phone vibrates shortly after and you look down at your phone.

That was the first family dinner I've had in a while. Thanks.

Thank my grandma.

I already did. By the way...she asked if I could come by and fix her sink?

Better not disappoint.

Wouldn't want to do that....good night

"I'm sorry, but on your medical records it shows Bruce Wayne as an emergency contact. Is this....not correct?"

You blink a few times, trying to understand how a mistake like this could be made. You didn't even personally know the man until today. How in the ever loving-

"Definitely not-" "Actually yes..." The both of you speak at the same time, and you're looking up at him in surprise. "Excuse me?" Bruce is flashing you a charming smile, his dark eyes narrowing at you humorously. He looks back at the nurse, passing her the same smile that had her turning a shade of pink.

"Excuse us..." You're being wheeled to the side and Bruce leans against the nearby wall. "Why are you insisting on staying as my emergency contact?" "You've already introduced me to your grandmother," He shrugs as if it made the most perfect sense in the world. You raise a brow, crossing your arms. "That's your reason? You don't even know me," He's fixing his stance slightly, but still seemingly at ease as he spoke to you.

"She threatened to call if I didn't check on you," Your brows furrow and you're letting out a deep sigh once again. "She did what?" Bruce shrugs. "She was persuasive," "Of course she was...." You grumble.

"What's in it for you?" You question, your voice lowering in suspicion. Bruce let's out a laugh you didn't expect, hearty and low, his head thrown back as his shoulders shook. He's letting out a humored sigh before responding. His eyes meet yours again, that smile gleaming at you.

"You've already told her I'm your boyfriend," "Right...I can just tell her we broke up and be done with it," You lift your chin a bit as if you've won an argument, defiantly staring up at him from your position. "You literally looked at me as if I saved you from a nightmare...and I think it would be rude to quit now..."

You groan softly, looking up towards the ceiling. "I've never met a woman who seemed annoyed about me being her boyfriend," "You're impossible..." "I've been called worse,"

When flowers arrived to your room the next morning, you were surprised. They were in the prettiest vase you'd ever seen, a mixture of eucalyptus, roses, and lavender. It made your room smell comfortable and relaxing.

You didn't know what it meant for Bruce to be your 'pretend Boyfriend', but it was nice to receive flowers. It was nice.

On the card even was his cell phone number. Think you'd need this.

You pull out your phone and send him a text saying a quick thank you and that his charade was handy. He sent you a quick text in return and that's where you left it. Or where you hoped to leave it.

The Next Day

You hold onto the crutches awkwardly as you make your way out the room. Your flowers were being held by a nurse as he guided you out of the room.

You’re being steered towards the 'exit'. A set elevators would take you down, and he’s pressing the button once close enough. “So when you’re at the lobby floor, go straight ahead and it should lead you towards the parking lot,” You nod at the instructions, waiting patiently beside him.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eyes as he bounces from foot to foot, seemingly giddy. Maybe he was getting off soon.

“I’m sorry,” He’s turning towards you, a nervous smile on his face. “I just have to ask. What’s it’s like dating the richest man in Gotham? All the nurses were talking about him being here the other day….and I just gotta know,”

Fuck.

You're giving him a hesitant smile, "Um...” You could feel yourself starting to sweat at the question, and you advert your eyes, looking for any distraction. “Oh, did I leave anything back in my room?” You start to swivel, slightly wobbling as you did so. Your balance was already terrible before being in crutches. It was only going to get worse. You just knew it. “No I think I grabbed everything…” The nurse turns to look back as well, face scrunching up in thought.

The elevator dings and you sigh in relief, turning around again awkwardly. You could feel the nurses eyes on you again as he expectantly waited for an answer. “Bruce and I…” Without looking in front of you, you start to insert yourself into the elevator, looking at the nurse once more.

“Like to keep things-,” Your grip slips on your crutch as one of the ends gets slightly caught in the crack between the elevator itself and the floor you were on.

A set of hands are reaching for you, one gripping your shirt and the other slipping to your waist, pulling you forward. You look up grateful and startled all the same, only to be mortified.

There was a smirk on his face, brown hair almost perfect, eyes glinting with humor. “I was just coming to collect you sweetheart,” He’s dipping his head to kiss your cheek. He made it quick and brief. To you, lasted a millisecond, but to any onlookers, seemed like a loving show of affection.

He’s pulling you upright and beside him, adjusting your crutches. The nurse seems flustered himself as he hands over your personal items in a clear bag, and flowers. “Hello Mr. Wayne. It’s an honor to meet you, oh my goodness, can I please have a picture,”

It takes everything within you not to make a face, and maybe he could feel your tensing shoulders or maybe you actually didn’t hide your emotions as well as you thought because Bruce is holding up a hand. “Not today. I should be getting her home,” His playful demeanor is gone, tone taking a serious edge as he presses the close button.

As the doors shut, you sigh, seemingly relaxing as you lean against him. “Thank god…” You whisper. “You didn’t have to pick me up,”

Bruce is pressing the star on the panel, one hand slipping in his pocket. The other was casually resting across your shoulders, fingers gripping your bag and your vase. “I didn’t…but who else was?” Your lips purse in annoyance, before you look away. He was right.

Your grandma couldn’t get you and neither could your other family members. They were all at home preparing for the family reunion.

You glance up at him again, taking a moment to admire his profile. He was at least in his early thirties, strong jaw, and broad shoulders visible through the light sweater he had on.

He stood well above your height, dressed in a business casual attire. His forearms were exposed, veins visible to your eyes. His watch looked more expensive than your car. It even glistened under the lights.

You could see the appeal. He was handsome. But so not your type.

As the elevator comes to a slow stop, Bruce is shifting to stand up straighter. “Got a favorite food or place you like to go?” Your brows furrow, a corral of voices barely registering to your ears. “I like Japanese food…why?” Your eyes narrow as you can hear an overlap of voices.

“Just wondering what to get you as a peace offering of sorts…” “Mr. Wayne…” His name slips off your tongue, switching to a more formal tone. It made sense to call him by his first name in front of others, but you were alone and it felt weird to talk to him like you knew him personally.

“Call me Bruce….and don’t look directly in the cameras…” “I hate-,” The doors are opening and bright flashes of lights beam in your face.

Bruce keeps an arm on your shoulder, holding one hand out, using your bag and vase as a shield.

*****

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a table with better lighting Mr. Wayne?” Bruce shakes his head, looking over at you as you greedily sipped your soup. “The lady wanted some privacy,”

He’s turning to you after the waitress leaves, and you glower at him. “I hate you,” You mumble. He leans back casually, looking around the quiet restaurant before meeting your gaze again. “You’ve said that since we left the hospital. You don’t seem to hate me too much,” You scoff, huffing slightly. “You ambushed me,”

He holds up his hands, a small smile on his lips. “I did not. Comes with the territory,” “I didn’t ask,” “It’ll be just fine…”

*****

The car comes to a slow stop just as you finished your ice cream cone. “Here, let me help,” Bruce is grabbing your things, and holds out a hand for you as he steps out first. You grasp it, grabbing your crutches along the way.

He’s helping you balance before the door is closing. Your small home sits there dark, and you grab your bag with one hand, fishing out your keys.

Bruce waits beside you as the keys jingle in your hand. He smelt like a mixture of whatever cologne and the flowers that accidentally spilled over him a few hours earlier.

As you start to walk up your pathway, he follows, and you stop. Turning to look at him, you raise a brow. “You don’t have to come in here,”

He steps beside you anyway, looking upon your home with a serious gaze. “At least let me walk you to the door. It’s late and you’ve been gone from home for a day or two,”

Your lips purse, and he looks at you again, and it seemed as if he weren’t going to take no for an answer. “Fine,”

He walking you to the door, stepping closer to you as you unlocked the door. As you push it open, you’re surprised by the way he steps into the darkness without hesitation. “Bruce?”

You can’t see or hear anything as he disappeared from sight. Everything was quiet for almost three minutes, making you nervous.

You start to step inside, and your font light kicks on. Bruce is standing closer than you thought, a startled sound leaving you. “Jesus…” He’s stepping outside again, letting you walk past him.

“All set,” “You check under my bed too?” You question sarcastically, turning to face him. You expected a smile or a hint of annoyance but he’s nodding instead.

“Every space. Make sure you lock your windows next time,” You nod slowly, watching him turn around. “Um…. Night?” You call out, and he’s looking over his shoulder, winking.

Of course.