The thunderstorm raged as you watched the lightning flash in the clouds. The thunder came quick after the flash, creating a loud crashing sound. You hated this weather, it made the day seem sad and it always made you lazy.
The only thing a thunderstorm was good for was that you could make a cup of hot chocolate and watch a movie - if the power didn't get cut off. But, there was always backups; portable movie players, flashlights, candles, etc.
You felt a little lonely, having no one to spend the rest of the stormy night with. You knew Oswald, your boyfriend, would be at his club all night. You knew he didn't drink, but he had business to deal with. And as much as he wanted you to, you couldn't come. It wasn't safe for you. You knew that, he knew that, even Fish Mooney knew that.
You knew his relationship with her. Oswald used to work for the woman, until she was supposedly killed but, she came back with new troops. He took over the club she owned, claimed it as his own and changed everything. A lot more money was coming in because of the business. You were grateful for that, but you spend little time with your boyfriend because of it. You hated it, Oswald knew that. But, he couldn't change it. He had to keep things in order in case something happened. With Fish back, filled with revenge, the safest thing was to stay and keep the business running.
Your phone chimed, making you jump. It signalled that you had received a message. Sitting on one of the dining room chairs, you pulled out the phone.
From: Oswald
I'll be home soon. Just left the club.
You replied with a small message.
To: Oswald
Alright, don't get soaked.
With a smiley face at the end, you sent the message and hoped for him to return to your home soon.
Another crashing sound made you jump and get up. Deciding to make some tea, you walked over near the stove. Grabbing the kettle, you poured water into it and set it to boil.
You decided to read, until the tea was done, or until Oswald came home.
-
Your tea had finished, but Oswald hadn't came home yet. And you got worried. Usually, he'd come straight home - no exceptions. It was odd for him not to message either. You finished your book, it was already half read when you started earlier that night.
So, you decided to head to bed, as it was almost midnight. But not before taking a hot shower. It was a short, ten minute shower before you jumped out. You dried yourself, slipping into your best pajamas. They were silk, Oswald had bought them. They were a dark blue colour, almost navy and you received them on your one year anniversary with him.
It was the greatest thing you'd every gotten. Growing up poor, you never had the riches like Bruce Wayne or Thomas Elliot. They never worked for anything in their life, and they had everything they asked for.
A knock surprised you, making you jump as you were pouring your last cup of tea.
You hesitantly walked over, so slow that the floorboards wouldn't even make a sound.
The knocks were fast and rapid. Unlike Oswald's and they were not recognized by you.
You opened the door, making a short stop immediately after it opened. So, the door only had a small gap between it and the opening.
"(Y/N), please open the door," he said.
Unexpectedly, Oswald pushed open the door, wrapping you in his arms. He was cold, almost hypothermic. He was shivering, clothes soaked, hair wet.
"Oh, Os, you're freezing," you shut the door with a free hand before hugging Oswald tighter. He was warmed by your touched, and you knew he missed you from being away from his girlfriend and his home. "I thought something happened. I was worried," you pulled away this time, looking at him.
His hair was messy, pieces sticking to his head and some pointing to the ceiling. His cheeks were pink, as well as his nose. His finest suit, soaked and dripping wet.
"I t-think I'll be going to bed," he stuttered, still shivering.
Before he could walk into your shared bedroom, you pulled him back and sat him on the couch of your living room.
"Stay here, you need to warm up. I'll be right back," you ran up to your bedroom. Searching through Oswald's clothes, you found his pajamas, clean socks and underwear.
Bringing this all down, as well as a blanket, you handed it to him and told him to change in the bathroom and came back.
When he returned, clothed in soft, warm pajamas, the fireplace, in front of the living room couch, was lit and gave off a warm glow and some heat.
You handed him a cup of hot chocolate when he sat, wrapping a blanket around him.
He sipped the hot chocolate as you smiled, watching him. You loved this man, and you cared for him more than anything. More than yourself. He came first, always.
"Thank you, (Y/N)," he mumbled setting the cup on the nearby coffee table.
He pushed you close and gave you a snuggle-like hug. You couldn't help but smile. Oswald was a cutie, in your opinion.
Without realizing, he'd do the cutest things and you'd giggle, and hug him.
"You know, when we moved in, I didn't think this fireplace would be used," you whispered against his chest.
His chest shook when he laughed, and he rubbed your back, giving you a small kiss on the forehead.
"I guess fireplaces come in handy."
YOU ARE READING
Batman Oneshots/Imagines
FanfictionI'm such trash that I decided to make a book for DC Comics characters.
