Re: log: gatsby, bruce/selina
He wasn't even aware that his staring was wrong, not the way a woman wanted to be stared at by a man; he couldn't know that she'd notice when he didn't know there was something to notice. Unfortunately, alcohol didn't make Bruce any more observant. It loosened his tongue. It made him less inhibited. But, it didn't make him any less oblivious.
For some reason, he associated Mr. Wayne with distance. Maybe that wasn't true; it was more akin to teasing. But just then, it felt like miles between them, even more so than usual, and he turned to face her with a shrug. "I don't always wear suits, Ms. Kyle," he said. More slur.
Standing made him dizzy, he realized, and so when she motioned to the chairs he staggered towards them gratefully, dropping down into the closest one as soon as he could manage it. "It's not very you." Honest. Too honest. "Do you not like yellow?" He cocked his head to the side when she mentioned changing; he didn't understand why. Or maybe she didn't want to be wearing something like that in front of him. Maybe.
"They're good. We had margaritas and tacos, and Eddie's alien box healed me." It was all said very matter-of-factly. "Fun," he echoed, like it was his first time hearing the word. "Maybe. I don't think I know fun enough to be able to tell if it was or not."