Fic - More (Selina Kyle, Selina/Bruce) pg, 1/1
Title: More
Summary: She presumes, rightly so, that everyone wears masks. Hides in some way from what is lurking beneath the surface.
Rating: pg
Author's Notes: 400 words. Definitely not mine (although if somebody knows how much it costs to rent Bruce Wayne out from time to time, be kind and let a girl know). Movie-verse. Feedback is a lovely, lovely thing.
He looks like his father - handsome and made of money, with his expensive coat and combed back hair. He’s beautiful in that striking, manly way, and his smile - the rarity that it is - consumes everyone in its path; leaving weak knees, fluttering hearts, and flushed cheeks in its wake.
Men and women alike know that power behind that smile, behind that bumbling exterior.
Charisma oozes from his pores and like the money that seems to grow on the trees in his backyard he has an abundance of it. But there is something else she can’t place, something she can’t identify. There is a darkness in him somewhere, hidden behind the outer layer that shields everything beneath the surface.
She knows that outer layer all too well, of course, for she, too, has one of her own. She presumes - rightly so - that everyone wears masks, hides in some way from what is lurking beneath the surface. From themselves. From what they know is there, but refuse to acknowledge.
Some could say he is his father - some do even go as far as to say he is his father -but she knows better. Sees it, yes, the resemblance, but there is more, so much more. He lives by example, and while it is no secret to anyone that idolatry for his late father is indeed there, everyone knows that he is his own man.
A man who is destined to do great things.
His hand slides into hers, cool and soft at the touch.
“Bruce Wayne,” he greets, voice silky smooth, smiles and yes her heart does flutter. Knees are weak - but she, strong and as impervious as ever, does not let her cheeks flush. Does not show that particular weakness.
“Selina Kyle,” she smiles, sleek and impersonal and decides that that grin - the very grin he was giving her right then - just may be contagious too.
Electricity. Rightness. Smooth skin against coarse, paler flesh, calloused from holding pencils too long, making too much coffee. Excitement, and that shiver that runs up her spine, that spark in his eye, in eyes she knows somehow, tells her there is more to Bruce Wayne than what meets the eye.
Much, much more.