Deja
I give my body a moment to shed the sleep from my brain, allowing the visions of the night give way into the mourning. I could hear the rain beating weakly against my window even before I opened my eyes. The room was dark and the day outside was grey. A deep loneliness seeped through my bones as my eyes stared at the empty ceiling above me.
A silent groan exits my lips as I stretch over the soft satin sheets, scooting to the edge of the bed, I check the time on my phone. I purse my lips tightly, I have about an hour to get ready.
I swiftly make my bed, strolling into the bathroom freshening up. I strip from my pajamas padding over to the shower twisting the faucets. I allow the water to sprinkle over me. It's usually at this time I feel at peace, alone with my own thoughts.
I press my hands to my face as I shiver under the steam. Sucking in a deep breath I begin cleansing myself. My long waved red hair is completely drenched, sticking unto my body.
I grab a towel wrapping it firmly along my torso trotting back into my room. The cold temperature biting my skin. I slip on a nice pair of skinny jeans with a solid eyelet embroidered white blouse, flashing a faint skim of my cleavage.
The faint glow of the early sunrise gleams through the peak of my grey curtains as I stride into the kitchen. I groan, resting my elbow on the ashy wooden counter, my gaze flickering up to the clock hung by the front door. Twenty minutes left.
Its only seven in the mourning but the darkness has enveloped the sky, no hues of colour. Just grey dim clouds, making the city miserable as usual. At the corner of my eye I notice Milo pad his bowl demanding meows purring from his throat. I sigh sinking down beside the bowl, as my hand caress the opening of his kibble bag beside the fridge. He extends his furry paw gently scratching my knee as the food tumbles into the dish creating a rhythmic cluttering noise.
****
The next fifteen minutes had passed by rather quickly. And I was already in a cab on my way to Wayne Enterprises. I tug at my fingers nervously glancing at my appearance in my small hand mirror. My eyes creased with the curved line of eyeliner, the mascara popping my eyelashes seemingly to be longer and quite noticeable. My hair sat loosely over my shoulders a small burette enclosed any uncooperative hairs from falling into my eyes.
I inhale as I finally arrived at our destination. I took a sigh of relief knowing I wasn't late again. No one was suspected at work for another half hour so that tension eased my nerves easily. I began to wonder why Bruce had wanted me so early, I mean he sounded rather odd on the call the other day. The hospitality of the building welcomed me as I was encountered by the main elevator leading unto Bruce's floor. My finger indistinctively brushes along the bright arrow pointing upwards as the elevator noise rung out in a small bell.
I stand in the middle of the elevator the motion of it swaying my body slightly. I clear my throat as my palms grow sweaty. My eyes nervously flick to the panel. Almost there.
I swiftly rummage through my purse applying a small amount of lip gloss the texture smoothing over my lips. I close my eyes momentarily stepping from the elevator as it opens on my office floor.
A howling suction emerges further down from the elevator doors, my eyes narrow at the tall silhouette striding towards me cautiously. I straighten out my shoulders as I follow his contemplative cold gaze.
His decisive brown eye land on mine as he strides towards me, the sharp edge of his stubbled jaw tensed, a barely noticeable sheen of sweat grazed a visible bruise painted on the side of his face. I clear my throat, as my eyes widen with shock. "Oh my god, what happened to your face." I mutter hovering a steady hand over my mouth.
Bruce just clenches his jaw more tightly as he brushes off the question. "Never mind that. Tell me about your father," He pauses for a brief moment. For the split second I notice few patches of dry blood surrounding the bruise near his eye. "Anything at all." My mind and focus blurs not being able to understand the situation at hand.
"Bruce, I have no idea what your talking about. My father passed away several years ago." I narrow my eye confused. "You know this." Bruce just shakes his head his expletive manner changing. "No, I know. But before the accident, your brother didn't mention anything suspicious to you?" I slowly shake my head my head buzzing. "No. All he said was: He had to take care of dads business." My throat clogs as my eyes begin to burn. "Then he just left."
Bruce runs a hand through his hair as he paces around his office. I watched him walk past me towards his desk. His eyes glinting with slight anger and irritation a look I knew all to well. I stand awkwardly by his office door. "Is this revolving around the man that came here yesterday?" I ask my voice barely coming out as strong tone. Bruce flicks his eyes to me, solemnly nodding his head as he swigs his glass of Jack Daniels. "Yeah, he came to me depending the code for Eric's disposal." My eyes narrow as I place my hands firmly on my hips.
"What does any of this have to do with my brother?" Bruce shrugs his shoulders as he presses a hand to his forehead. The attacker must have slashed him because a small trial of blood seeps into the hollow of his palm making it clearly visible.
I stride towards him, the sudden action startle him as I gaze up at him. "Alright, let me take care of that." Bruce scoffs removing his hand from his forehead beads of sweat trickle from his temple. "No, I'm fine." he advises strongly abruptly standing to his feet. I roll my eyes placing both hand on my hips once again. "Bullshit. Your bleeding." He glances down at his hand before looking back at me his expression unreadable. "That's fine, I can handle this myself."
I flay my arms dramatically in the air as they slap onto my side. I stiffen my posture arching my brow slightly. "Oh cut the crap, just let me help you." I sigh running a quick hand through my hair. "You have to stop playing this mysterious character who avoids help when you need it." Bruce stays hesitant as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, his cold eyes pierce through mine as he slowly saunters towards me. He huffs out, "Fine, if you do anymore damage I'll have you fired." A small smirk toys with his upper lip. "Or worse buy your apartment, making me the rightful owner." I roll my eyes playfully.
"Don't worry, I passed my pharmaceutical degree as a doctor." I assure him as he creases his brow questionably. "You were a doctor?" I smile slightly hopping back onto his desk. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Mr Wayne." All at once the conversation shared before hand fades away from my thoughts. Bruce grows tense as my posterior was propped onto his desk.
My voice hushes as he remains a few inches away from me. "Come here." I politely request motioning my hand to his injury. I lowly gasp as his strong built frame sidles in between my open thighs. I try my hardest maintaining the stillness of my legs; making sure they don't accidently brush past his loans. I clear my throat rummaging through my purse finding my first aid kit.
Bruce chuckles. "Why do you have an entire aid kit stashed in your purse?" I sigh pulling up a cloth near his face. "For emergencies just like this." Our faces are so close together I could feel the hotness of his breath wash over me menacingly as he flicks his iris toward me slowly. I gulp aiming the cloth just above his brow. "Now hold still, this will only take a minute." I assure him gently applying pressure to the injured area of his face.
His hazel brown eyes spark spontaneously as his eyes curve into caramel crescent moons trapped by a thick black ring. I lean slightly forward sweeping off the rest of the crested dry blood. I peer down swiftly and my cheeks flush a bright crimson color realizing I had my breasts nearly in his face. I scramble back straightening my posture as I distract myself with finding a bit of antibiotics. My face shies away embarrassed watching Bruce gleam at me. A mischievous smirk tugging on his lip.
I curse so it admits barely audible as I begin tampering with the wound softly dabbing the ointment over the injury. Bruce clears his throat as his hands naively skim across the tops of my thighs. I attempt to calm my breathing, pretending to be oblivious to his vast movements. "Have your eyes always been green?" He speaks lowly as his voice portrays the thickness of gravel.
I bat my eye innocently shrugging my shoulders shyly. "I guess." I avoid making direct eye contact as I snatch a needle from the kit. His shoulders instantly tense from the sharp image of the needle. "Don't worry. Like I said I am a professional medical doctor." My statement seems to relax him but not entirely. He inhales sharply as the needle barely brushes across his flesh. I take a deep breath as the needle pierces through the skin. Bruce lets out a gasp as his face twitches away. I mumble a quick apology before pulling the needle out again, leading the plastic-like-string out of the wound.
I repeat the process, I grow nervous from all the groans and squirming Bruce presents after every poke. I alter the last knot as I cut the rest of the stitch with my small kit scissors. I slump back down gazing up at him, the top of his head reaching higher than mine. The silence grows so thick that we find enjoyment of each others company. My eyelids grow hazy as his bore into mine immensely. I run my tongue over my dry lips, seeing Bruce follow the swift movement with his eyes. He's so close I could feel the warmth generating from his chest. Coming to realization I just noted his front was splayed further into the desk, trapping me once again.
I open my mouth to speak but was interrupted by a sharp squeal. I fearfully peer at the office door seeing Rachel scattered behind it. I shove past Bruce leaving him in his office as I paced down the hall catching up to Rachel.
I sharply tug on her wrists, she instantly spins on her heel facing me. A large grins is smeared over her bashful face. "Rachel, that was not what it looked like." I protest glaring at her. Rachel chuckles making a 'pfft' sound with her throat. "Oh really? Cause it looked like Bruce had you nailed to a desk, getting it on." She unashamedly bats her eyes as a small laugh erupts her throat. I roll my eyes disgusted. "No. That's not what happened." Rachel gives me a unknowing look gleaming at me skeptically as she places her hands firmly on her hips. "It's not. He asked me to come to the office early so I could check his schedule over." I pull the lie from lips before continuing. "And he cut his face after slipping from his bathtub... so I offered to help it."
Rachel doesn't look entirely convinced. She sighs. "Fine. But I know what I saw." She teases pointing a jagged finger at me. I roll my eyes in annoyance as I swat her shoulder. "Stop it. We didn't do anything." Rachel just nods before she departs into her cubicle.
I hear my name being shout from across the room and I jump glancing over the office. I notice someone in the distant waving what appeared to be an envelope.
My heels pound along the tile floors as I confront the man snatching the letter before saying a gratitude, "Thank you." The man tilts his ball cap before disappearing into the elevator.
Fatigue consumes my insides as my nails crease along the paper ripping it just a tad. I narrow my eyes seeing black ink initials impended on the letter.
The lettering symbolizes a Greek handwriting I learned when I was five. 'E and C'
My eyes widen as my mouth stretches with shock as the letters seemed to enable a deep trance opening my past. The engravement stare back at me as my throat instantly runs dry.
It was my brother.