Gods & Monsters | Bruce Wayne

FORTY FOUR - GOOD MORNING GOTHAM

"Where are you going?"

Bruce glanced over his shoulder when Carla's voice added light to the darkness of the room. He'd been awake for a while just thinking, not about anything in particular but unable to shut off his mind enough to fall back to sleep.

"Sorry, I thought you were still sleeping."

Carla turned over in the bed, startled awake by the slightest of movements from Bruce beside her. They'd only slept in the same bed four times since he'd shared his secret with her and Bruce had noticed that on those four occasions, Carla had turned into a far lighter sleeper than she'd been before.

She blinked twice and let her eyes focus from a blur of broken and restless sleep, shuttering across to the clock on the beside table that showed the time to be approaching eight-thirty. Carla looked up at Bruce, the covers pulled up beneath her chin as her eyes travelled across his face and the shadow of his body in the crack of sunlight that shimmered on his left side.

"Stay."

Bruce exhaled deeply at her request, the firmness in her voice making it sound like more of an order that he would never have any hesitation to obey. From the consistent harshness that he'd grown to love in her, the rare moments of her showing her true desires and promise of her heart were special to him, cherished like the pearls on his mother's necklace.

He said nothing and slid back beneath the covers, a hand curving beneath her body and pulling her by the waist into his arms, warmth from her skin making the hairs on his neck stand up. Carla stayed quiet too, closing her eyes again once she found the comfort of his shoulder beneath her cheek, her hand resting across his midsection.

They lay still for a while, doing nothing but breathing and when Bruce turned his head again to look at the time, he saw the clock showing nine-fifteen. He didn't feel like he'd slept but he felt weightless in that bed, the only pressure being the softness of her breath tickling his chest and the way her fingers ever so slightly brushed back and forth against his side.

Peace and calm came from her, Bruce knew that by then, but with her she also brought a storm, one that was breaking over their horizon and bound to soak them to the bone. It wasn't her fault and Bruce didn't hold any of their problems against Carla, being sure that whatever they had to do to get themselves dry again at the end of it would be worth the rain.

He looked down at her, dark hair splayed across his skin and the pillow behind them, her fist tucked beneath her chin. Her lips were pouted when she slept and Bruce liked the fact that her steel frown wasn't there all of the time, though he would've still loved her if it was.

He touched her face with his fingertips, brushing strands of hair away from her eyes before kissing her forehead. Carla stirred then, blinking once, twice, three times before hauling in a deep breath and looking up at him.

"It's like you wake up every time I move." He whispered.

She paused for a moment before saying, "Because I think you might be going to put on that suit, and now I worry."

Her hand traced the healing bruises on his ribs and touched the fresh bandage supporting his shoulder. Carla's words were few but the meaning in them was far more and Bruce took her hand inside his own, lacing their fingers together and resting their knuckles against his chest.

"I've made it home every other time I've put it on."

"Don't say things like that, you're tempting fate."

Bruce smiled, "Since when did you become so superstitious?"

Carla huffed and rolled her eyes, "You're irritating me already."