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Description
You glance around you, taking in all the extravagant decorations and dresses. You are at a charity event and the room is filled with rich people. Normally, you wouldn't be at something this fancy but you are taking the place of a friend who couldn't make it but desperately wished to be represented. Your friend even bought you a beautiful dress to wear and since you owed them a favor, you really felt like you couldn't refuse. You shift uncomfortably as your eyes land on a gentleman you had seen earlier. Whenever you look around he is there, making you feel slightly nervous. You turn around to face the punch table, until you hear voices raised in excitement. Turning back around to see what is happening, your eyes widen in shock as you see a handsome man coming through the doors late, a girl on each arm. He looks like a jerk to you, but you're curious as to why he would attract everyone's attention. Leaning to a nearby woman, you ask who he is.
"That's Bruce Wayne," she whispers. You feel your jaw drop open in surprise. Your friend had told you about Bruce Wayne, but you suspected he was an old stingy man. Apparently your friend left out the hot part. And the playboy part too. Bruce is now sweeping one of the girls he came with onto the dance floor. The music picks up pace. Suddenly, you feel a headache coming on. You back away from the cluster of people and walk to the edge of the room, fanning your hand in front of your face. You see a life size statue and lean next to it, so you are hidden from the crowd. You can no longer see Bruce Wayne either. You sigh. Someone like him would never look at you once. You are studying the intricate floor pattern when a shadow falls over you. Startled, you look up and see the man from earlier staring at you. He's standing right in front of you and up close you can see he's extremely tall, nearly 6'5". You back up, but hit the wall. The man has a small goatee and brown eyes that you would find pretty if they didn't look like they wanted to eat you.
"Um....can I help you?" you ask hesitantly.
The man grins and a shiver goes down your spine. "I haven't seen you before."
"Nope," you squeak.
His eyes look down further and you have an urge to cover yourself up. The dress is a little low cut, but when you had put it on earlier you thought it wasn't too bad. Now, you wish you had kept your shawl on. You shuffle along the wall, trying to move past the man, but he just pushes you back and moves closer.
"Where are you going?" he asks in a low seductive voice.
You feel yourself trembling. Ugh. "Please let me go," you try to demand, but it comes out more like a plea.
The man chuckles. "Not 'til I'm done with you."
Your eyes widen in horror. Why didn't your friend warn you about this?!
"Excuse me, is there something wrong?" A deep voice asks. You can't see who it's coming from, as the man is blocking your view entirely.
You see the man's jaw clench and he turns around to face the newcomer. Once again your mouth opens in shock. Bruce Wayne. Relief courses through your body.
"No problem," The man assures. "I was just talking to the lady."
Bruce's eyes shift to yours and you shake your head. His eyes narrow and he looks up at the man. While the man is taller, Bruce is still an imposing figure. "Well, I'd like to dance with the lady. If you don't mind, of course." Bruce's tone implied he didn't really care if the man minded or not.
The man sneers. "Not at all."
Bruce reaches his hand out to you and once you take it, pulls you away from the wall and back to the safety of the crowd. Once a good distance is between you and that man, you sigh and face Bruce. "Thank you, Mr. Wayne. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come."
Bruce smiles and your heart beats faster. "Don't mention it. And please, call me Bruce."
"Bruce," you smile, savoring the sound. You start to turn away, but Bruce stops you.
"Wait, I'm not sure it's safe. Besides," he grins, "you do owe me a dance."
You raise your eyebrow. Cocky. "Do I?"
"Certainly. I did save your life." You're slightly stunned by his audacity, but you shrug. What could it hurt?
"Okay then."
Bruce grins and leads you out onto the dance floor. It's a slow song playing now and Bruce draws you close as you sway to the music.
"I haven't seen you around here before," Bruce says. "What's your name?"
You laugh. "So I've heard. My friend asked me to take her place. And (y/n), is my name."
"(y/n)," Bruce smiles and your stomach flutters. "And who's your friend?"
"I doubt you would know her," you say, more harshly than you intend. Bruce pulls back to look at you.
"What makes you say that?"
You blush slightly. "Just that-"
"That I'm a playboy who doesn't notice anything but models."
You raise your chin at his bluntness. He said it, not you. "Yes."
Bruce scoffs. "You underestimate me. I notice all beautiful women." He looks at you intensely and you look over his shoulder to avoid his gaze. You're not used to this kind of attention. You see the creepy man staring at you from the edge of the dance floor. Bruce sees you looking and tightens his hold on you. "I won't let him hurt you."
"I bet you say that to all the women," you say to hide your pleasure at his comment and the fact that your nerves are rattled.
"Maybe. Or maybe just to you."
"You hardly know me."
"That could change," Bruce pulls you close again and you close your eyes at his musky scent.
"Maybe," you say. "Maybe just for you."
Bruce chuckles and you're so close you feel his chest move against yours.
You're both silent the rest of the dance and when it finally ends, you sigh slightly in disappointment. Bruce doesn't let you go right away though.
"Will I see you again?" he asks.
You study him for a moment, his strong jaw, his silky brown hair, his deep brown eyes. Every single feature weakens your knees. But you refuse to let it distract you. "Bruce, why should I think you want a relationship with me different than the girls who came in with you?"
Bruce furrows his brow and releases his grip from your waist. You miss his touch already. Your question seems to cause a change in his demeanor. His eyes are now distant and he smiles tightly. "You don't," he says blankly.
Confused, you say, "I'm sorry. I just need to-"
"Think of your heart," Bruce cuts you off. "I understand, more than you realize." Before you can register his words, Bruce steps back and is already talking to another guest. You stand there for a few moments, unsure of what just happened. You feel terrible, though you're not certain why.
You study Bruce once more, but differently this time. Instead of noticing his handsome features, you look at his demeanor. While he's smiling at the man he's talking to and seems relaxed, you can see through the set of of his shoulders and the way he holds himself that he's anything but that.
With sudden clarity, you know it's just a show. No one in this room knows the real Bruce Wayne. You realize you may have misjudged him. And you have this sudden desire to see who Bruce Wayne really is. Bruce looks away from the man he's talking to and meets your gaze. Embarrassed, you realize you were staring at him this entire time. But you can't look away. Eventually, the man grabs Bruce's attention again and he breaks eye contact with you. With that look though, you know that's somehow not the end. There is more to Bruce than met the eye and you can't wait to find out what.