#loneheir.

" oh really? "   the two of you,   tall in an old historic building,   take up much of your personal office.   it's lit with warm lights   &   would be a comforting place were papers not scattered around your desk   &   were the room not so small when you are in it together.   you bring yourself to sit on the edge of your desk,   one leg crossed over the other with a mimicked motion on your arms.   your chin is raised as you stare @loneheir down:   your gaze is hard to avoid,   blue   &   piercing.   " if i don't then who will? "   it's a genuine question that,   when asked,   softens your features.   the effects of zidler seem to still linger beneath your skin   (   you are,   you will always be:   his sparkling diamond,   the weight of the moulin bared on your shoulders   /   as he wanted,   so he shall get   ).

there is no reason for you to be biting back a smile.   firstly,   your back is turned to him,   leaning over the side of his bed scrolling through your phone while propped up on an elbow.   secondly,   there is nothing you could or should hide from him.   you are partners in more ways than one...   regardless,   you try to not smile too big under the dimmed light of your screen   (   it hits you that it feels like a girlhood crush,   the kind you have in middle school where you're trying desperately not to blush   ).   " i don't think that's true. "   with the click of a button,   the light dims   &   darkness,   accompanied by the pale light of gotham city seeping in through the window,   encompasses the room.

you roll over onto your other side,   facing him now with one corner of your lip pulled up.   it's hard to make out every single aspect of his features,   &   yet you can picture exactly what it should look like.   you have every corner memorized.   " i know you've read more classic romances than me but i know damn well that they do not say that this'll get better. "   you're quick to prop yourself back up on your elbow,   as if you're body is in a constant state of motion that refuses to let you lay down for even a second until you're completely ready.   " maybe we shouldn't be stupidly comparing ourselves to classic literature. "   now your fully smile,   looking down at his dark gaze caught in the quick flash of light.   a kiss is planted gently on @loneheir's forehead   &   you stare at him a moment longer.   " don't you think? "

@loneheir said, "do you want some company ?"

‘ ah. mister wayn.e, ’ the remnants of laughter slips away by the time the door is closed behind 'em &. the blinding light has dimmed from the outside .. gotham is menacing yet beautiful beneath; the people scrambling on the pavements whilst the people with the power is carousing indefinitely without thinking about them . . . br.uce wayn.e is one of prominent figures that appears different than the others, as if he cares about the city &. the inhabitants itself .. but perhaps it is a mere gimmick because the family's legacy circulating within his blood––––––the real hero of gotham, that is slowly forgotten because the people hate nepotism . . . despite the illustrious tragedy befalls upon him; they couldn't see that the golden child is happy as long as they are suffering .. wails does cadence with way.ne .. perhaps that's how it always meant to be; the tragedy in dark alley. johann knows the story from the hearsays, as people would take a pity upon the man because he has to carry the burden alone .. but there can not be two men that should bear the same weight, even if they are almost the same, ‘ thank you for hosting the party. i didn't expect that you'd be so welcoming about my placement .. considering what happened to the previous one .. he was your friend, wasn't he? ’ perhaps it is a mere rumour to faciliate the guilt both of them should endure because they're almost the same person who want the best for the city.

" yeah man,   i get it.   same here. "   spine straightens,   chest tenses.   you lift your elbows off the balcony railing   &   gesture for him to join you.   it's akin to a kind gesture,   one you   &   @loneheir both know is rooted in a truthful lack of genuine desire to hang out,   so you would say,   together.   " c'mon,   join me out here. "   it's less an offer,   more a requirement.   " it's stuffy in there.   i think some of those women have been using the same perfume since the sixties. "   you chuckle beneath your breath,   &   turn back once more so your back faces him.

      " you... "   the word trails off your tongue,   coming from a place deep in your chest   (   it's sad,   but spoken with a small smile on your face as your hands slip to rest on the back of his neck   ).   " will do what you always do.   you'll do what's right. "   if you were to even suggest otherwise,   you know @loneheir would fight it;   if you were to ask for him to do the selfish thing you want:   stay,   he would tell you that's not possible.   he's become so predictable that the predictability has earned a new meaning,   it's very existence implying that love has grown beyond it's own confines.

      " you'll do the right thing,   go where sofia's expecting you. "   there's a momentary silence,   &   the pressure in your chest builds to an extreme high–   you were always so full of love,   there was just nowhere to put it   (   you hope he'll take all of it,   as ugly as it gets   ).   your hands move from the back of his neck,   where they held him to keep his gaze on yours,   to instead wrap around his figure:   giving you the opportunity to place your head on his chest.   his heart beats,   that's a good thing:   that's something you take inventory of.   thank god his heart beats.   " &   you'll be safe,   &   you'll come back to me. "   you're reassuring both yourself   &   him.   this,   you're sure,   has gone to far.   you can't do this,   that's what you said once,   &   yet there was no pulling the two of you apart.   it's impossible,   the tethered strings of the fates too strong for the simple pressures of blood to keep you away.   this dependency may be the death of you.

            ❝ 𝔶'𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴, 𝔦 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔲𝔠𝔥 a wonderful time over there that i'd said to myself: fuck it, yeah, i will come back. ❞ hand sullen into slack's pockets, other dispels cigarette butt over the edge. hum laced with smug duplicity, never lingering longer than needed ⎯⎯ always running & always chasing. ( 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, in a case like his, oscillates between ohio or seventh circle . . . both held with a righteous kind of spite ! ) gotham was a demimonde: an eternal overcast & brimstone labyrinths, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔪𝔫𝔢𝔡 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 was a reanimated mary shelly's wet dream & one john tried his best to avoid. too many parallels drawn to home / the sickness gnawed at the bones. argent hues gaze over the cityscape & oh what 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐒 lingered on the tongue. did the city sense they were being haunted ? could he feel ghosts claw at the shoulder blades. john certainly see it, how hungrily they shrouded over the cowl. he welcomes the ascetic bite of the wind, savours the chill that drags against the spine.