zaverie

˚୨୧⋆. catwoman!sophia: who always notice when it comes to someone flirting with you, when some overconfident rookie cop or a flirtatious socialite tries to get too close. when a charming informant leans in a little too much, she’s suddenly at your side, draping herself over you with a smirk that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. she would never admit she’s jealous, but the next time you see that poor fool, they look like they’ve had an unfortunate “accident” involving a conveniently misplaced tripwire—or a mysteriously emptied bank account.

˚୨୧⋆. catwoman!sophia: that always near your crime scene so that she could help you defeat your enemies whenever you get outnumbered.

˚୨୧⋆. catwoman!sophia: who knows when you get hurt. the first to notice when you don’t move as sharply, when your breathing is just a little too uneven. when you stumble into your loft, barely able to peel off your cowl, she’s already there—silent as a shadow, waiting. she would never admit she broke in just to check on you, but the sting of antiseptic and the careful way she stitches your wound say otherwise. she never stays until morning, but you always wake up to fresh bandages, a neatly cleaned workspace, and the lingering scent of her perfume on your sheets.

˚୨୧⋆. catwoman!sophia: who sometimes gossip with alfred whenever you're out of the house.

˚୨୧⋆. catwoman!sophia: who gets pissed off—and unfortunately, sometimes takes it out on you. she always throw the first punch when her frustration bubbles over, when a deal goes wrong, when the world pushes her too far. she finds you on a rooftop, masked eyes flashing, and suddenly, you’re dodging her strikes instead of trading banter. she would never admit she just needed to let off steam, but the way her hits are controlled—never meant to really hurt—tells you everything.

˚୨୧⋆. catwoman!sophia: stage being badly hurt so you could take care of her.

˚୨୧⋆. catwoman!sophia: who, despite her fury, she couldn’t stop tracking the one who nearly killed you. She’d never admit it, but seeing you so badly hurt made her blood run cold. Already halfway to Gotham’s underworld, claws out, she was ready to tear apart whoever put you in harm’s way. She didn’t need permission, didn’t wait to be told to calm down—but when she returned, anger smoldering but subdued, she watched you tend to your wounds. Only when you met her gaze did the last of her rage fade. She’d never admit it, but you were alive, and that was all that mattered.

˚୨୧⋆. catwoman!sophia: gave you a kitten to make sure you remember her everytime you see it.

˚୨୧⋆. catwoman!sophia: who you caught singing on the rooftop of your building, her voice a rare melody that drifted through the night like a whispered secret. Sophia never sang—not in front of anyone, not even you—but tonight, the soft lull of her voice wrapped around you, lifting you as if angels themselves had taken hold. You weren’t supposed to be here, weren’t supposed to hear this, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, afraid that even the slightest shift would shatter the moment.

˚୨୧⋆. catwoman!sophia: who, despite all your efforts to calm her down after a fight, still stormed around the room, her anger seething. words couldn’t reach her, and you were losing your patience. so, you did the one thing you knew would get her attention—without thinking, you grabbed sophia’s face, forcing her to look at you. before she could snap at you, you kissed her. it wasn’t gentle—it was forceful, raw, a way to take control of the moment. when you pulled away, she stood frozen, the anger melting from her eyes as she finally heard you, your lips still burning against hers. you didn’t need to speak to make her understand. your kiss said everything.