{‧₊ a piece of peace ‧₊}
݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁
⏾‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ { pairing : bruce wayne x fem! reader }
⏾‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ { summary : bruce enjoys a quiet morning }
݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁
Ogling the windowed display, she devours the pastries with her eyes in silence. One catches her attention, elegantly labeled as Fraisier, sits proudly on its stand, layers of mousseline and sponge cake, bright red glazed strawberries shining under the sunlight beaming through the big cafe windows.
She halts to get a longer look, her eyes almost matching the shine of the glazed fruits. Bruce does the same, his figure standing tall behind her. She turns to, eyes wide, a sweet smile drawn on her face. He already knows that, when she makes her way to the cashier, she will order something else; it is too early for such a treat. She had always reasoned like him when it came to the order of things.
He is still towering behind her as she orders her usual. In his mind, he repeats her words like a spell. He already knows her by heart.
Americano, black, please.
A moment of patient silence as she allows the cashier to work. She will order for him.
Filter coffee, black, please. Thank you.
He nudges her by stepping closer to her, black card in hand. She has known him far too long to argue with him over any bill. Gracefully, she grazes his other hand with her own; she is signaling that she will find them a seat. She leaves.
"Actually, I will grab that piece of cake... Please."
When he walks over, two plates in hand, her face shows a playful look.
"Bruce Wayne eating breakfast. I should call the Gotham Gazette."
He sets the coffee, then the plate. As she makes the realization, she looks at him with love. Bruce looks back and makes an effort to look unbothered. He fails.
Least she deserves. He thinks.
When he sits down, she impatiently forks the strawberry on the top first. She closes her eyes and bites. The sun highlights her peaceful features. Bruce makes time to notice the faintest invisible pigments of her hair and the glow of her skin. Most importantly, he will wait until she opens her eyes, full of satisfaction, to take a sip of his coffee.
They sit in silence, enjoying the moment. For a second, Vengeance enjoys peace.
݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ⏾‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ { note : not a writer, just for my own enjoyment really :) }