The Silent Treatment (Victor Zsasz x Reader)

#3

3rd Person POV
Sunlight spilt onto the grimy gotham streets, setting a stark contrast between the sky and the city. Y/n was off of their usual job today surprisingly. It was curious- Oswald had requested they take a day off yet he would usually never do that. No, there was more to it, something on the crime lord's mind, yet Y/n chose not to look into it, instead respecting his decision.

Leaves crunched below and small, cold bullets of water grazed their legs, but they didn't mind, e/c eyes peering at the road ahead in an alert fashion.

Living beside the Narrows was never a safe nor viable, yet, when Oswald was unable to or wanting some space to himself, living here was the only option. You see, Y/n usually stays around The Penguin's place, the usually luxurious lifestyle much better than any crummy apartment within the city. But, naturally, he needed his space so the clever minded person always kept an apartment rented. It was cheap, a rather poor quality of living, but it was a roof with clean water and electricity, so complaints were somewhat irrelevant, gratefulness towards even having a place outweighing standards.

Removing rusted keys from their pocket they approach a tired, blue door, that stood tall and proud as though living out its final year's the best it could, not subduing to nature's death grip.

The door creaked open, but much to Y/n's surprise (and horror), someone opened the door from the other side.

1st Person POV

As I felt the door get softly peeled from my hands I couldn't help but rush a hand to my chest, gripping my heart as it pulsates painfully in fright briefly before becoming fast, racing, as though I was running for my life. But I hadn't started running yet.

At the other side of the door was someone familiar, actually, someone I didn't exactly expect to be here. Leaning rather casually in the doorway was Zsasz, an unreadable look on his face, yet he had a smile, somewhat smug, really. After I visibly composed myself he spoke up, "you know, you should really get a new lock."

I could feel myself deadpanning at not only the man's break in, but also the first thing he said. I open my mouth to speak but find myself closing it in the same breath, reevaluating what I would be saying. I then remembered my code of silence and let out a slow, almost shaky sigh, which caused him to cock an eyebrow. "What? Cat got your tongue?" He emphasised the syllables, causing the words to roll off his tongue, slick and sharp like knives.

I got out my notepad and just started writing, causing his face to crease slightly. I knew it was because he had seen me speak prior but I wasn't in the mood to explain. No, I just wanted to go home and lounge around if I'm honest and his presence would hinder that dream. On the paper, I had written 'What brings you to my home?'

He took a moment, first reading it and then responding. "Aren't you supposed to be in work?" Victor questioned, eyeing me up suspiciously. I shook my head, no, and proceeded to write. 'Penguin gave me the day off'. He kind of made an 'o' with his mouth, for once seeming off guard. I held back a small giggle of amusement at the fact Victor had hunted me down because he suspected I was avoiding work. I guess trust was hard to find in Gotham and he wanted to ensure his boss had all the support possible so they both would stay on top of the food chain.

Victor then stepped out of the doorway and gestured me in, to which I Of course stepped in. It was my home after all. I turned back to him and he was halfway through the door before he turned as well, "oh by the way, you need more bread. I ate the last of it." With that final, almost cheeky comment he left causing me to groan and shut my door, locking it before wandering into the kitchen. I found the empty bread packet and then the plate covered in crumbs beside it. I rolled my eyes and just got to work cleaning.