FROSTBITE ᵈ ᵍʳᵃʸˢᵒⁿ (DISCONTINUED)

o14. 𝘔𝘐𝘓𝘒 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘚𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘞𝘉𝘌𝘙𝘙𝘐𝘌𝘚

"Since when were you ever on time?" Estela called out in a teasing tone, flashing Dick a grin before she followed Bruce out of the house.

And when Dick caught a glimpse of her skin, fitted inside the white backless dress, he blinked in surprise.

"Master Grayson?" He turned his attention towards the English butler, almost absentminded however still noting the knowing smirk Alfred tried to mask.

"Birdbrain, are you coming or what?" Estela called from outside.

He cleared his throat and flashed Alfred a quick smile, then darted away before he had the chance to tease him.

The ride to the Chateau Gotham Hotel was a short one, filled with comfortable silence and the occasional muttered conversations between the two sidekicks. It was dark inside the small limousine, but with the help of the city lights blinking around them Dick could see Estela quietly munching on the snacks and candies stashed inside the mini side bar.

By the time they arrived at the hotel, cameras were already flashing before they got out of the vehicle.

Bruce exited first, displaying quick smiles and little waves before helping Estela out of the car—a picture of the perfect billionaire uncle. She plastered a fake smile as as the photographer's shouts grew stronger, along with the various white flashes of their cameras. Dick was on her other side in an instant.

With both of her arms looped through theirs, the trio walked inside the hotel until the commotion quieted into formal discussions.

"Your entire back is gonna cover page six on the papers next week," Dick suddenly told her.

She lifted her one corner of her lip. "Best dressed again, I'll bet."

He playfully rolled his eyes, even if he silently agreed with her comment.

Bruce patted her arm. "I have to go," he told them gruffly. "Behave, you two."

"We're always behaved," she mumbled under breath but he was already gone.

Dick's arm was still looped around hers. "The bar?"

"The bar," she agreed.

The two maneuvered their way through the crowd arm in arm, with Estela smoothly dodging unwanted conversations by keeping her eyes cast downward. When they finally got to the bar, she didn't waste time and ordered their usual drinks of a whiskey neat and a dirty martini.

"Thanks," said Dick as he brought the glass to his lips.

Estela grunted her welcome and popped an olive in her mouth whilst looking around.

The place was almost as airy as a cathedral, complete with three, grand crystal chandeliers that brightened the room tremendously. Philanthropists and socialites stood or walked around aimlessly, all wearing their best suits and dresses with a flute of bubbly in their bejeweled hands. Faint, classical music was playing from a live band in one side of the room, next to a large dais with a podium placed in the middle.

Estela scrunched her nose. "Another boring night. Filled with old people."

Dick laughed into his drink. "You could've stayed home."