GOTHAM CITY, NEW JERSEY.
2011
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STUFFY BALLROOMS AND PRETENTIOUS galas used to bring some sort of appeal to Estela before. Technically speaking, it was every little girl's dream come true of finally becoming a princess in a fairytale. Now that she had to attend one almost every other week, it was starting to get tiresome.
All in all, those stuffy ballrooms and pretentious galas were a bore to her. Anything that required socializing and (barely) tolerating snobby, rich people were a bore to her. Donning exquisite silks and rare jewels were the only highlights of her evening—what can she say? Estela loved looking good. But if there was one other thing that bore Estela more than that, it was staying at the cavernous Wayne manor without Dick's company; the only reason why she bothered going with him and Bruce in the first place.
It wasn't the first ball Estela would be attending, she's been to enough that the usual partygoers recognized her on sight. And every time they did so, it was always the middle-aged women with their high pitched trills calling out her name, striking up false conversations with her only to ask about Bruce later on—that's what happens when everyone in high society thinks she's his niece.
Forcing fake smiles, hiding in bars, and listening to the same-template, boring speeches; always the same routine. Tonight would be no different.
She sighed and added some finishing touches to her hair—a few more pins to keep her updo in place. Grabbing her purse, Estela closed the lights in her room before heading out, her heels clicking against the floorboards in a satisfying manner.
"There you are," Bruce said impatiently when he spotted her by the landing. "I was beginning to think you drowned inside your closet."
Dick snorted, still looking at his phone. "Bruce was just saying that we should go without you. . ."
But the words died in his throat when he glanced up, seeing a figure in white descend the stairs gracefully. Estela was looking down at her feet, half of her face hidden from him but even then, Dick felt as if he'd been slapped by some heavenly deity. For a second it was almost like—and dare he say it—like seeing a divine messenger with his own eyes; pure and ethereal.
When Estela finally stopped in front of him, she gave a mischievous smirk. The face of an angel was gone, replaced by someone of the complete opposite, yet Dick still found it beautiful just the same.
"You were gonna go without me?" she asked them, directing her raised brow at Bruce.
The man merely shook his head. "Come on, we're late."
"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."
I get bored when you're not around. "And miss the chance to dress up and look good?"
"Well, at least there's free food and drinks," he said.
"That's one of the reasons why I even bother coming, Grayson." Estela sighed. "I wish Donna were here, she'd liven things up."
"Yeah," he agreed. "Also 'cause she is so much better company than you."
"You are so rude, I swear."
"I'm kidding!" Dick laughed when he saw her eye roll. "I'll be right back. I need to use the toilet."
Estela waved him off with her hand before brining the martini back on her lips, allowing herself a small sip and turning away from the crowd before another one of Bruce's business 'friends' noticed of her. The last time she was in a conversation with someone he knew—an old man who just wouldn't stop talking about his incident in the golf club—she almost fell asleep right then and there. Lucky that Dick was present to pinch her arm from time to time.
Five minutes had already passed, Estela's martini already downed to the last drop, and Dick still hasn't returned. An impatient huff left her lips, feeling herself growing more bored as conversations around her went on. But before Estela could even decide to walk away from the bar, a figure suddenly appeared to her right.
"Hello," a voice said, and she looked. It was a man, with a nearly-trimmed beard that made him look a bit older than Estela—maybe a few years or so. He was smiling down at her, with a row of pearly whites and a nice shade of gray eyes.
"Hi," Estela said politely; she had to admit he was quite handsome.
"You often come here alone, or what?" he said with a charming smile.
Just great, Estela thought to herself irritably. She flashed him one of her best fake smiles.
"No," she said a little too bluntly. "I'm actually here with someone—"
The man stuck his hand out. "Felix Walsman." Estela faltered.
"Estela Muñoz." She shook his hand firmly, intending to take it back until Felix slowly held it up to his mouth and pressed a chaste kiss on her knuckles.
"I know," he said almost cockily.
Estela chuckled drily before subtly snatching her hand away, eyes roaming around the crowd again just in case she spotted Dick.
"You're Bruce's niece, right?" he asked. "I didn't even know he had any siblings."
"He's got distant cousins," she replied curtly.
Felix grinned, seemingly unaware of Estela's disinterest towards him, or that she was only talking to him for the sake of appearances.
Another thing that peeved Estela more than conversing with busybody hags and prideful old men, were the arrogant young ones who sought her out the same way the rest of the crowd did: for Bruce Wayne or Wayne Enterprises. While some young men were genuinely interested, the only problem was Estela didn't reciprocate.
Maybe if she lived a normal life—or at least normal in high society's standards: a vain girl comfortable with her daddy's money—but she didn't. Not when putting on a costume to fight was her full-time job.
"Hey!" Fingers snapped in front of her face. Estela blinked, pulling herself away from her thoughts as she brought her attention back to Felix. "Are you even listening?" he asked.
"Yes." No. "Sorry, could you repeat that?"
Felix scoffed, though a boyish smile told her he wasn't the least bit annoyed at all. "It's like I'm talking to the walls here, huh?"
Estela clenched her fist but smiled apologetically. She brought her hands on the counter, playing with her empty martini glass in hopes to keep herself more occupied than the man in front of her. Where the hell is Dick?
Felix suddenly placed his palm on top of her hands. "Hey, I totally get it. Big crowd and all that. Why don't we get out of here?"
Her back stiffened, yet she managed to maintain her composure. Flashing Felix another fake smile (her cheeks were really starting to hurt), she subtly leaned further from him.
"I'm quite alright here, thank you, Felix."
"No, no, I insist," he said with a grin, then gripped her wrists urgently; not too hard that it hurt but not that softly either. Estela growled irritably under her breath and tried pulling her hands away as fiercely as she could, all without trying to make a scene.
"Felix," she said firmly, "I said, I'm alright here." Thankfully, she snatched her hands back, and almost knocked down her martini glass but Estela was just glad no one else was looking their way.
"Oh, come on. Bruce isn't here to watch you. We can have fun somewhere else, just you and—"
Before Felix can grab her hand again—with a grin that looked more creepy than charming, too—a smooth voice called out to her.
"Hey, there you are, love." Dick suddenly appeared in between them, his hand snaking around her waist as he pressed a chaste kiss on her cheek.
"Play along," he whispered lowly, his lips brushing against Estela's ear. She suppressed the urge to shudder. "I've been looking everywhere for you. You wanna dance?"
It was like whiplash when he appeared; one minute Estela was so sure she was ready to punch Felix in the jaw, then the next her mind was reeling with confusion towards Dick's behavior. Before the two of them can spare the baffled stranger another look, he already whisked her away from the strange Felix Walsman.
"What are you doing?" she hissed. "I had that handled."
He didn't reply, too busy glaring at the bar's direction to catch what Estela was saying. She raised a brow at his demeanor, but decidedly brushed it off.
"You're welcome, by the way," Dick said, still feeling his anger bubble towards the man.
Estela rolled her eyes. "I told you I had it handled. What took you so long?"
He finally looked at her. "I couldn't find the toilets."
"Idiot," Estela said, though she was grinning in amusement. "Do you even know how to dance?"
Dick looked around, suddenly realizing they were in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by other couples from old to young. They stood a little off from the centre, where the hotel's crest was emblazoned on the pristine marble floor.
"I may have been an acrobat, Stel, but that doesn't mean I can't dance," Dick said with a cheeky grin.
He placed a warm hand on her lower back, igniting a soft gasp from Estela that thankfully went unnoticed. He pushed her body closer to him, allowing her head to rest on his chest as they swayed to the tradition waltz being performed by the live band.
He took an even breath, hoping to God that she couldn't hear the erratic thumping of his heart. Must be from the adrenalin, he thought. You're still pissed off because of that asshole.
And as Estela relaxed in Dick's arms, she hoped that he won't figure out the reason behind the goosebumps forming on her skin.
Must be from the cold. Yes—except that Estela never, ever gets cold.
EVEN WITH THE AMOUNT OF desserts and hors d'oeuvres Estela had consumed at the gala, her rumbling-alien stomach still wasn't satisfied.
Wayne manor was dark and silent when she decided to head to the kitchen with a sudden craving for strawberries that wrestled her need to sleep. She opened the sliding door to see Dick standing in front of the fridge, the yellow light shining the side of his face as he turned around.
"Can't sleep?" he said in greeting.
Estela snorted. "More like I'm hungry."
He snickered as he poured himself a glass of milk, then moved aside to lean on the mahogany table in the middle of the kitchen so that Estela could get her strawberries. She situated herself up on the counter just opposite him, washed the strawberries in the sink nearby, then popped one in her mouth.
The two of them didn't speak to one another, choosing to bask in the comfortable silence that enveloped them instead. Estela was glad for it; everything was always comfortable with Dick, even if they went on for hours without speaking to each other simply because they didn't want to. A silent understanding had been settled there, one that both of them didn't grow out of.
But she had a feeling that tonight wasn't going to be like that, especially since she blurted, "She was pretty."
Dick paused, the glass halfway to his mouth before saying, "Who?"
"That girl you were talking to at the gala," Estela said nonchalantly, suddenly remembering the gorgeous red-head in the black gown that she spotted with Dick just hours earlier, the two of them smiling and laughing. She ignored the weird feeling in her chest. Why did you even bring it up?
"Did you get her number?" she teased nonetheless.
Dick chuckled lightly before putting his glass down. "No. I wasn't interested."
Estela raised her bows in genuine surprise. "You? Dick Grayson, not interested?"
He rolled his eyes playfully and shrugged with a smile. "Why? Is it so hard to believe?"
"Uh, yes." Estela retorted as she ate her fourth strawberry.
Dick laughed quietly. "What about you? Other than that creepy guy at the bar, of course."
"Oh, no, no. You think I got time for that? I haven't even had my first kiss yet what makes you think I can handle some serious relationship," she rambled.
A wave of shock went through Dick. "Seriously?"
"Yeah." She snorted before eating one more strawberry. "It's not really a big deal, though." But even as she said it, Estela couldn't help the nervousness emerge at the prospects of how Dick might react. Would he make fun of her? Christ, that was the last thing she wanted.
"I thought all the boys in school had cooties, anyways," she added with truth, thinking back to the time she had always avoided the boys a long time back—before being Blizz, before her parents' deaths.
Dick pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Don't you—like—wonder how it feels like, though?"
A childish grin erupted on her face. "Sometimes, I guess."
Something about the conversation seemed so funny to Estela; it was almost like they weren't grown, mature adults. Or maybe that was just her. She shook her head with a snicker, averting her eyes from his to mutter, so low that Dick almost didn't catch it, "Sometimes I would even practice on my hand."
Estela expected him to laugh at the joke she made even if it held a bit of truth to it, but instead, Dick said something else that shocked the both of them entirely.
"You can practice on me," he said a little too boldly. Too casually.
Estela released a choked laugh, blinking rapidly as heat suddenly crept along her neck.
"What?" she spluttered. "You're—you're shitting me, right?"
Yes. No. Dick's brain was short-circuiting. He didn't even know how to long he stood frozen, just staring at Estela as his own words echoed back in his mind. Finally, he cleared his throat and mustered on his most coolest front.
"No," he said. "I mean—it's only if you want to. . ."
Please say yes. Dick brushed the thought away.
Incredulous was an understatement. All Estela could feel was pure, undiluted surprise as she watched him, eyes staring back at her expectantly with a small, nervous smile on his face. Did he really just ask me that? She pinched her arm—just in case this was all a dream—and winced.
Not a dream then.
She inhaled deeply. It was only Dick after all. Dick, who she was comfortable with; who she told everything to; who she trusted with her life, literally and figuratively. She's known him for a long enough time now. What could go wrong?
Estela shrugged. "Yeah. Sure." It was a simple gesture, but in reality her heart was starting to thunder.
"I'll go easy on you," he said with a boyish grin.
She couldn't help the eye roll. "I don't think kissing is supposed to be like combat training, birdbrain."
Dick merely smiled before situating himself in front of her, feeling the hem of his shirt slightly graze her knees.
"May I?"
She nodded slowly with a gulp, her box of strawberries soon forgotten as he stood in between her legs—a safe enough distance between the two of them, but still so close that Estela can feel the body heat radiating from his chest.
What could go wrong? What could go wrong? What could go wrong? What could go—
"Wait," Estela said a bit too sharply. She loosened a breath. "How do I—what do I do. . ."
"Just go with the flow," he said softly, and smiled at the faint flush on her face, even in the dim kitchen setting. "Just. . .follow my lead."
How hard can it be? Just close your eyes, Estela, close your eyes right now.
So she did.
Dick leaned in slowly, hands resting against the counter on either side of her. With one last push from his inner-conscience, he closed his eyes too and gently pressed his lips against hers.
All the movies lied. Kissing didn't feel like fireworks or sparks of explosion, it felt like tasting fresh water for the very first time: addicting and fulfilling. Dick's lips were soft; softer than Estela shamelessly found herself imagining some nights, and she couldn't get enough. It was better than anything she had ever imagined.
He was kissing her softly, but the firm grip he had on her hips goes to show how much he wanted more. And when they pulled away, it took everything in him to stay put. She was staring at him wide-eyed, lips swollen with her pupils dilated: beautiful.
No words exchanged, just the sounds of their heartbeats as they wrapped their minds around what just happened. Dick peered into her eyes, the message in them as clear as day. He almost cheered when Estela nodded ever so slowly.
You taste like strawberries, he thought to himself before kissing her once again.
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dear readers !
i'm back with another update!!! so now y'all know what estela meant when she told kory they kissed once 👀
tbh i saw this prompt somewhere on tumblr and i thought it was too cute to not add into dick and estela's story line 🙏🏻
so my updates have been rlly rlly late and i apologize for that! i've been busy with tryna study for exams and tryna get out of writers block :) so i will most likely be updating once a week now or every 5 days
i hope you guys are enjoying this story so far! thank you sm for 2k reads <3 pls do comment and vote it rlly means a lot 😽
— seph <3
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© cherrymalfoys