Devil's Playground • Gotham Fanfiction •

XXIX - Death Wish

"The only reason I was even invited to the dance was that he convinced one of the executives at the company to have his son ask me." She shook her head, "And who at Wayne Enterprises would say no to Thomas Wayne?"

"I'm sorry." Oswald frowned.

Deep down, she wanted the same things he did, the same thing most people wanted at their core -to be liked.

He knew all too well how the sting of humiliation could burn through the whole body like a lit wick doused in gasoline.

"I just..." Her voice trailed off, "I don't get why I'm not enough for him, you know?"

Before he got the chance to respond, Bird released a gasp of pain, and the remnants of the rice scattered across her dress as the foil tray tumbled to the ground.

She'd been absentmindedly stabbing at the rice so hard that she'd stuck the fork clear through the bottom of the container.

"Are you alright?" Oswald asked as he took her hand in his and inspected the injury.

She sighed, using her free hand to brush the spilled food from her dress, and mumbled something under her breath that he couldn't understand.

There was no broken skin, but he could clearly see the four discolored indents from the prongs in her palm.

He gently pressed his thumb to the marks and started to tell her he didn't see any blood, but his breath hitched in his throat.

His heart skipped a beat in his chest, and the longer his skin made contact with hers, the less he wanted to let go.

This had been happening more and more over the last few weeks.

His admiration for her was starting to shape-shift into something else he didn't fully understand.

At night, thoughts of her filled his head, turning him into the insomniac.

The idea of her dad wanting to keep them apart filled him with such rage that he'd entertained the idea of doing away with her parents more than once.

He'd been able to get a grasp on the fire and smother it down to embers before he'd gotten too far into formulating a plan, let alone set anything into action.

But still, the idea that anyone might come between them left him utterly blinded with madness.

He'd kill anyone and anything that tried to get between them; he knew it.

She was his best friend -the only true friend he'd ever had.

Which is what he tried to remind himself of.

Awareness of knowing the feelings he was getting toward her was wrong and inappropriate on several levels left his cheeks reddened with shame.

The more time they spent around each other, the more he thought of her as a possession to own. That she belonged to him.

Then seeing her tonight in that evening gown made his hands clammy and mouth dry.

She was absolutely stunning. The single most beautiful thing that he'd ever laid eyes on.

A picture or a painting of her frozen in time like that wouldn't do her justice.

He wished he could just keep her like that.

Ensure that she would forever and always be his and only his.

Cage her to keep her safe and locked away from the outside world; the city they lived in seemed to ruin everything, and he couldn't shake the dread that one day they might not be as they were at that moment.