Re: log: gatsby, bruce/selina
Bruce didn't have the energy or inclination for tricks. He wasn't trying to trap her into saying one thing over another; he was tired, drunken honesty, and he only wanted the same. For once, no games. Just the truth. "Once," he repeated, and he understood. There was weary knowledge in his eyes, resignation and acceptance. "Things have changed, haven't they? More than I ever thought they could." He wouldn't hide from that, wouldn't pretend that everything was the same. Sometimes he still tried to pinpoint when, how, but it was difficult. Everything was so muddled that it seemed more likely that there had been a number of contributors rather than one single factor. It was so long ago, nearly a decade; there was no use in rehashing the past. It was a faded ghost, regrets and guilt and no way to turn back the clock.
He shrugged. Her words rolled off him like water, the alcohol a different kind of armor. "Shouldn't, but that is where her path took her. Elsewhere. If she can't find purpose in Gotham then why not leave? It isn't hers. It isn't any of ours. She isn't obligated to stay. She has that freedom. No one expects--" But he stopped, there, realizing he'd said too much. He had to swallow his bitterness down, keep it hidden. Because no, he didn't want a purpose. He just wanted bittersweet nothing, what he'd has so fleetingly between this Gotham and his. He wanted a city capable of redemption. He wanted to be recognized for who he was, for what he'd done, rather than what everyone else either expected or assumed him to be.
Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it made him the monster he was thought to be, that he was tired of her anger and her hurt, but he was. He was tired of the guilt. He was tired of the self hatred. He deserved it, yes, but it exhausted him. No matter what he did, no matter what he said, he was only capable of making things worse with Selina. He could sit in silence and still hurt her. It happened without him trying. When he looked at her, he saw the worst of himself. He saw betrayal. He saw pain. He saw someone he loved, but who deserved better. He wasn't enough for her. He never had been, and he never could be. She was wrong, when she said she didn't want him to be someone else. She did, even if she wasn't aware of it, but he wasn't someone else, and better she let go and be free to find happiness with someone who could actually give it to her.
There was no happiness in his future, and he would not drag her down with him. No, this time, he would do the right thing and put her first.
It might hurt, now. But better a brief severing of ties than prolonged pain. His gaze was hazy confusion when she nudged him back towards the chair, and he didn't understand. Saying goodbye? Had that been his intention? He was too drunk to be sure. "No," he slurred, uncertain. "I'm not--" He had to make her understand, and he let himself be led back to his seat without being aware of it. "I make you miserable, Selina, and I have to--"
He stopped again when she began to tug the step of her dress aside. "What are you doing?"