< just_1_word - Uncertainty - Matters of the Heart - gothams_dent >
Nadine Lewis
Batman (OC)
666 words
"Is it real? Or did I just imagine that thing?"
"When you were kidnapped... it was a mix of hallucinations and real... Tonight, it was a hallucination. A memory... a bad dream."
He'd explained it to her so calmly, cradled her and comforted her as if there'd been something to be afraid of. In the aftermath of the night, Nadine Lewis felt foolish. A nightmare reduced her to that. Children were that afraid of nightmares, not grown women. Frightened children crawled into bed with their parents to feel safe for the rest of the night. An adult shouldn't need a-- a roommate to sleep beside them, hold them close.
And yet, here she was, curled up against a sleeping Harvey Dent, using his chest as a pillow. Even as she woke fully, she shuddered, shaking off the last vestiges of the dream that had brought him here. Part of her was afraid still but not of the Scarecrow. Here, like this, she felt safe from that. Still, that didn't mean she wasn't afraid.
They'd crossed lines last night, lines she'd promised herself were impassable. He'd held her close. She'd kissed him. He'd kissed her. She'd fallen asleep against him. They'd acted like lovers last night, but that was something they couldn't be.
She had Jonathan. She adored him, worshiped him. She could justify wanting Harvey. He was an attractive man-- even now, with those scars, she thought he was attractive, desirable-- who had been in a position of power over her. Power was... delightfully attractive as well. He still had power, just in a different fashion. She'd wanted him-- mildly, of course-- before she'd ever met Jonathan. She could want him all she pleased, but she had Jonathan. She couldn't have Harvey too.
As for Harvey... Well, he had Rachel. Yes, she was dead, but she was all he'd ever wanted. He'd loved her passionately, been ready to devote his entire life to her. Death would forgive any flaws Harvey might have seen in her. Over time, her memory would become a perfect one, one entirely worthy of a saint, rather than just nearly so. Harvey would always idolize her, always want only her. He didn't want Nadine, and she knew that.
What had happened last night was the exception, was as far as anything would go. They were not-- could never be-- lovers.
Of course, that didn't mean Nadine was ungrateful for the company Harvey had so willingly provided, for the comfort he'd freely given. She sat up while he slept, doing her best not to wake him. She looked down at him.
Half of Harvey's face looked absolutely peaceful as he slept. Here was her White Knight, her defender in a world all too willing to destroy her. The other half of his face looked better than it had. The process Jonathan had performed hadn't been entirely successful... but rough scars and slight discoloration were better-- in Nadine's opinion at least-- than the open wounds Harvey had come with.
Nadine bent down, pressing her lips to his. Now, it felt strange, the scars on half his lips. Still, she supposed it didn't feel strange enough not to do it. She sat back up before settling back into the bed, still near him but without her head on his chest. She didn't have to work today, so there was no reason she couldn't wait until he woke up to get out of bed.
Then... Then she'd go for coffee and call Jonathan as soon as she was out of the building. He didn't need to know about last night, about the temptation now. He knew she and Harvey would probably be sharing the bed-- she'd told him that yesterday. He-- What purpose would telling him serve? It wouldn't happen again, and telling him would only upset him, only make him worry he'd lose her. She'd just call him, listen to his voice.
After all, even if she wanted Harvey a little still, it was Jonathan Crane she wanted and needed. She was certain of that.
Batman (OC)
666 words
"Is it real? Or did I just imagine that thing?"
"When you were kidnapped... it was a mix of hallucinations and real... Tonight, it was a hallucination. A memory... a bad dream."
He'd explained it to her so calmly, cradled her and comforted her as if there'd been something to be afraid of. In the aftermath of the night, Nadine Lewis felt foolish. A nightmare reduced her to that. Children were that afraid of nightmares, not grown women. Frightened children crawled into bed with their parents to feel safe for the rest of the night. An adult shouldn't need a-- a roommate to sleep beside them, hold them close.
And yet, here she was, curled up against a sleeping Harvey Dent, using his chest as a pillow. Even as she woke fully, she shuddered, shaking off the last vestiges of the dream that had brought him here. Part of her was afraid still but not of the Scarecrow. Here, like this, she felt safe from that. Still, that didn't mean she wasn't afraid.
They'd crossed lines last night, lines she'd promised herself were impassable. He'd held her close. She'd kissed him. He'd kissed her. She'd fallen asleep against him. They'd acted like lovers last night, but that was something they couldn't be.
She had Jonathan. She adored him, worshiped him. She could justify wanting Harvey. He was an attractive man-- even now, with those scars, she thought he was attractive, desirable-- who had been in a position of power over her. Power was... delightfully attractive as well. He still had power, just in a different fashion. She'd wanted him-- mildly, of course-- before she'd ever met Jonathan. She could want him all she pleased, but she had Jonathan. She couldn't have Harvey too.
As for Harvey... Well, he had Rachel. Yes, she was dead, but she was all he'd ever wanted. He'd loved her passionately, been ready to devote his entire life to her. Death would forgive any flaws Harvey might have seen in her. Over time, her memory would become a perfect one, one entirely worthy of a saint, rather than just nearly so. Harvey would always idolize her, always want only her. He didn't want Nadine, and she knew that.
What had happened last night was the exception, was as far as anything would go. They were not-- could never be-- lovers.
Of course, that didn't mean Nadine was ungrateful for the company Harvey had so willingly provided, for the comfort he'd freely given. She sat up while he slept, doing her best not to wake him. She looked down at him.
Half of Harvey's face looked absolutely peaceful as he slept. Here was her White Knight, her defender in a world all too willing to destroy her. The other half of his face looked better than it had. The process Jonathan had performed hadn't been entirely successful... but rough scars and slight discoloration were better-- in Nadine's opinion at least-- than the open wounds Harvey had come with.
Nadine bent down, pressing her lips to his. Now, it felt strange, the scars on half his lips. Still, she supposed it didn't feel strange enough not to do it. She sat back up before settling back into the bed, still near him but without her head on his chest. She didn't have to work today, so there was no reason she couldn't wait until he woke up to get out of bed.
Then... Then she'd go for coffee and call Jonathan as soon as she was out of the building. He didn't need to know about last night, about the temptation now. He knew she and Harvey would probably be sharing the bed-- she'd told him that yesterday. He-- What purpose would telling him serve? It wouldn't happen again, and telling him would only upset him, only make him worry he'd lose her. She'd just call him, listen to his voice.
After all, even if she wanted Harvey a little still, it was Jonathan Crane she wanted and needed. She was certain of that.