Making Headlines ~ Bruce Wayne [PAUSED]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

"Thank you." You say to the woman in a whisper.

The worker offers you a pleasant smile and walks off with your jacket in hand. You turn to face the elegant restaurant and begin to walk toward the tables. Your eyes search for the two familiar faces under the golden yet faint lights.

You hate how so many of the expensive restaurants are usually the darkest ones, it always takes a bit to adjust. After some looking around, it's quite easy to find one of them, your mother's. Your father isn't sitting by the table, but you can see his tall glass of red wine from where you stand.

You start to make your way towards her, purse in hand as you walk by every table. You get to it rather quickly, and your mother is quick to look up from her phone at you.

"You were late to work, today." She says right as she looks at you.

"Good evening to you too." You say as you put down your bag and push back your chair. "And, yes, I was."

You take your seat and lean back comfortably. No worries behind your voice or even mind as there isn't a possibility that your mother would ever know what made you late. No one, not even her paranoid mind, could ever guess such a thing. That thing being, of course, Bruce Wayne in your kitchen.

"May I know why?" She asks, putting down her phone with the screen down, giving you her utmost attention.

"Tried to be brave while doing my breakfast this morning." You say with a fake exasperated sigh, "The food burnt and the bit that didn't burn, didn't even taste good, so... I just wasted more time on doing the usual."

Your story sounds convincing. And that is because it is partially true, in a way. You had planned to make a big breakfast for yourself, you had already envisioned yourself burning it and having to go with toast or cereal instead. That is how much you trust yourself in a kitchen. But, of course, you didn't expect to have Bruce in the shadows when you got home, having a chase and then sex... more than one time that night. Or on the next morning. So, there wasn't time for breakfast anyway.

"How did you know I was late?" You ask her, trying to get yourself some information on whether or not she has spies on you.

"I was there." She tells you with a nod, "Came to talk to you about something but I found myself alone for an hour, in your office."

"I'm sorry that happened." You tell her, "Why didn't you call me, then? I could've eaten on my way to work if I knew you were waiting for me."

"I found it to be useless since, at that point, I already expected you to take a full day off." She tells you bitterly.

"You were wrong." You offer a fake smile, "I had four meetings today, I couldn't take the day off."

She should believe you. Even Bruce tried to get you to stay home. Didn't work.

"Where's-" You begin pointing your finger at the empty chair, but a voice interrupts you.

"I am right here."

Your father appears from behind you and offers you a pleasant smile, in contrast to your mother, who is still absent of any emotion at all. He takes his seat and quickly grabs his wine glass, bringing it to his lips.

"Heard you were late to work." He tells you, sounding almost as if teasingly.

"I was." You tell him with a nod.

"What made you late?" He asks curiously, "Boyfriend?"

He always does this joke whenever you are late for anything. It is rare for you to ever not be on time. The expression itself, 'rare', is an understatement. But, whenever he can, your father likes to make the casual joke any father does to his single daughter.