Re: quicklog: Steph &Tim
Stephanie didn't blame Bruce for her childhood traumas. She did, however, blame him for more abandonment issues and for the utmost disrespectful way he decided to keep dipping in and out of everyone's lives for the last handful of years. Or even before then, when he would throw them to the fire and let them figure their shit out. Or when he wasn't there for Tim when he lost all the people he loved. Or when he disappeared when Eddie needed him most. Or how he allowed Damian to be raised by his mother.
Anyway she would never be who she was today without Bruce -- both the scars and triumphs from her life.
Shrugging when he rebuked her offer, she fought the urge to pop a bottle of wine or tequila open for herself. When he left, she could drink until she fell asleep on the couch with Miss Congeniality playing in the background as the animals curled around her. And, she feared, she'd be in that situation sooner rather than later. It was a mistake, she realized, to invite Tim over as he awkwardly pet her dog and edge away when Flounder got too friendly. Flounder, he trusted everyone. Stephanie? Not so much.
But, like Tim assumed, Steph was rubbed raw, as raw as the puffy bags beneath her eyes that she'd swiped at mercilessly when he said he'd be coming over. It wasn't just Damian's barbing, though that didn't help. Talking more to Cat about moving on from Eddie? Well that fucking stung. Realizing she flirted with someone stranger? Yeah, maybe she wasn't especially thrilled by that too, now that she'd sobered up from the thrill of being thought pretty and charming. Of being thought good enough.
Tim stepped over, and Stephanie barely hesitated to fill the gap between them when offered the hug. Her arms wrapped around his middle without hesitation and rested her chin on his chest, eyes squeezed shut. She'd been craving physical affection from anyone, especially someone she cared for, and before she realized it, her fingers dug ever so slightly into his back. Her desperate cling lasted more than a handful of seconds before she pulled back enough to look directly into his eyes. Stephanie trained blues on himf or a moment, staring into the same face she'd fallen in love with more than a decade ago as her first real love. Even with the aging, she could still see some of that same boy there. She smiled briefly, little more than a flash, before leaning forward so that her forehead rested on his chin. Fingers still gripping into his back.