All We Do Is Watch Them Kill

Ch.3 Bedroom

"The future burns slow / Like a cigarette to my lungs / And when I go home / All the emptiness fills me up / I don't know much about heartburn, do you? / I don't know much about emotion, do you?"

-The Neighborhood Watch, "AA"

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The inside of the manor was just as magnificent, if not more, as the outside.

You passed the threshold first followed by Alfred.

Alfred removed his cap and raincoat which he set on the skeleton of a wooden coat hanger. You unzipped your rain jacket, a comfort of warm air surrounded you, as Alfred took the jacket from you and hung it as well.

You then proceeded to walk beside him as you started across the entry hall, the sound of your footsteps quiet on the long red Persian rug.

"I forget how big this place is and how different it all looks," you said, aware now of your loud echo, feeling, as you followed him, that you behaved more like a  public visitor, glancing politely left and right.

Light illuminated around the immensity of the great entry hall; massive leaden-colored paintings, weapons on the wall, giant tapestries, hulks of red-upholstered furniture.

"Yes, miss, we've done a few changes," Alfred said briefly, "only some redecorating and painting the suites in the east wing, which I thought we would use for yours. As Master Bruce says, it's much more cheerful on that side of the house, and it has a lovely view of the rose garden."

There you saw the exquisite staircase, broad and curving, leading upward into a second story corridor overlooking the entry hall, and far above, a vast expanse of paneled ceiling hung a grand ancient chandelier.

Looking to your right there was another hallway that would be overflowing of corridors that led to the main kitchen, dining hall, great ballroom, garden entrance and pool with a spa.

"Hey stranger welcome back!" A voice shouted from a young man looking down at you from the top of the stairwell.

You abruptly looked up and simply blinked at him at first. It couldn't be him.

This was not possible.

The first thing you noticed was his deep set eyes, high cheekbones and a mouth so pretty, it seemed to tie together his face shape that was too good-looking.

Way too good-looking.

His jet-black disheveled hair bounced with every step he took. Once he was at the bottom of the stairs he started towards you and embraced you in a hug. He had grown a few inches taller since the last time you saw him.

You could still remember hearing the giggles of the little girls from your earlier summer days in Gotham, gushing over the Grayson boy, reminding you constantly how lucky you were he got to reside with you. This only fueled  your anger within as his cold eyes and stony face stalked through the dark corridors of Wayne Manor.

Still, it's not like you could blame the girls and maybe even a few boys.

Dick Grayson, a boy no more, was a sight to behold.

He was wearing a navy blue button up shirt with black casual pants and black shoes. Although he had a lean figure, Dick's embrace was a strong one. He wrapped his sturdy arms around your back and pulled you into his chest. You hugged him back as you caught the scent of his cologne.

You took in his recognizable ultramarine blue eyes that seemed to shine like the beautiful ocean you left back home. They could leave anyone quite mesmerized.