𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏

𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

❤︎

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 skin felt like it was on fire as you struggled to keep your mind straight, it took everything in you to continue walking to Bruce. But while you were obviously struggling to even walk, Bruce was watching you.

He looked like he was amused by your state of nothing but pain. The woman on his lap was giving him a lap dance, her filthy hands traveling his body like a disease. But you knew he wasn't paying any attention to the woman, all of his attention was on you and nothing and or anyone else.

You've never hated his smirk so badly in your life until then, normally you would love it. But now? Not at all.

"H-Help me.." you mumbled, even though you knew Bruce couldn't hear you. The distance from Bruce never looked so.. far. Your legs felt weak, your heart was beating out of your chest, and you felt like you couldn't breathe. Asthma maybe? Who knows. But it felt like someone was applying bricks to your chest by the second. However, just as you thought you were about to fall, strong arms wrapped around your figure and pulled you into a hard chest.

You didn't know how Bruce had gotten to you so fast, but you damn sure weren't complaining. "I'm sorry it took me so long baby, I had to let you lay in the grave you dug for a while. It was only right wasn't it?" "W-What? No it wasn't rig- hmph!" He covered your mouth to hush your little rant and picked you up into his arms, bridal style. Luckily, any on-lookers thought the two of you were simply going to go have some 'fun' outside of the party but it was far from that.

If anything, you were terrified of what Bruce would do to you once the two of you made it to the home.

Bruce carried you out of the building and waiting in the driveway was the car, he opened the door for you and carefully sat you down in the passenger seat. The strange smell of woody sage filled your nostrils, it brought an eery sense of calm to your already overwhelmed mind. You didn't even notice Bruce had gotten into the car until he began speaking, "You do realize who you were 'dancing' with correct?" You weakly shook your head, earning a scoff.

"It was your ex lover. Joker. God, and you were just there dancing with him trying your damn hardest to make me jealous. Fucking idiot." Bruce angrily commented, grunting.

W-Was I really dancing with.. oh my god..

Fear struck through you harder than it has ever done, you knew he looked familiar but the brown hair and the mask completely threw you off. You remember Joker before he had his green hair and unusually pale skin, and so much so that you had completely forgotten what he looked like when he was younger. "What did he do to me?.."

You questioned, feeling yourself slip in and out of consciousness. Bruce looked over at you from the corner of his eye and disapprovingly shook his head, "He didn't do anything. You had an panic attack, I can't quite pinpoint why but I just know you definitely had a panic attack." Bruce spoke as if it was normal as hell, but to you?

God you felt as if you were about to have another panic attack just from the recurring thoughts of dancing with Joker.

Bruce noticed how exhausted you looked from the small amount of things that happened, "You just rest while I work this situation. Everything will be fine, okay?"

All you could do was nod along to Bruce's words, it felt like someone was sitting on your chest. Preventing you from being able to speak or even breathe properly. You were drifting in and out of consciousness by the second, and sleep sounding very enticing to you. So like what anyone would do in your situation, you closed your eyes and hoped to god it was all a sick dream that your mind made up.

❛︎ T I M E S K I P ❜︎

"━︎I just couldn't help but let her lie in the grave she dug. I mean, it was only right I did that."

Bruce's pacing came to a halt by the end of his sentence, his gaze soon shifted to Clark who was sat with one leg over the other on the sofa. He chuckled and spread out a bit more on the semi-small sofa, he was seemingly getting comfortable.

"Bruce, I feel as though you over-reacted. She was forced into the kiss, had an panic attack because of gods know why, then had to suffer in an overwhelming car ride filled with you mocking her and making her feel even more like shit." Clark somehow calmly explained, leaning his head over the back of the couch.

Bruce leaned against his desk, narrowed his eyes at Clark. But it didn't faze Clark, not at all. Bruce has been mad at him before and he's grown to get used to the harsh glares he would occasionally receive from the billionaire.

To Clark, Bruce looked like very out of character. Almost unrecognizable. Bruce's hair wasn't slicked back with gel as it normally was, it was instead messy and covering his forehead and a bit of his eyes, god did Bruce look completely different. If Clark didn't know any better he would have called Bruce out on his messy demeanor, but he does.

So he won't say a thing.

If anything, Clark was just ready to go home.

Despite Bruce hating being wrong, he sure as hell couldn't say Clark was lying. However, Bruce soon accepted defeat and sighed, "Fine.. I can admit I was in the wrong. But, none of this would have happened if she wasn't trying to go and be a little minx because she felt she had the power to do so." Bruce boldly stated, crossing his arms. But what Clark said next had Bruce agitated even more than he was before.

"But didn't you have an stripper on your lap?-"

❤︎