Re: Chinatown Apt: Robert/Selina
She didn't talk about the book, however much she wanted to, because she was starting to understand things about him. Things about how he worked when he was in something and when he was out. She knew he wasn't going to leave it, so she waited, tired green eyes and the blanket up against her chin. She waited, and he didn't disappoint. "I'm not angry." She wasn't. She'd never been. "I'm not angry, and I don't want you to work on things, Robert. I want you to talk to me. Not about how sorry you are, and not about what you're offering me. Just talk, god, there's a thousand things I want to say, and I don't know how to say them, I don't even know where to start. Just talk to me. Tell me about the book. Tell me about Tony. Tell me about Pepper. Tell me about my insane not-daughter. Just, talk to me."
And that winded her, exhausted her, and it was more words than she'd said in days. Her throat ached, rust and knives and she looked on the nightstand for water. And she noticed then, really noticed, just how filthy she was. She shoved at the blankets, kicked them to the foot of the bed, and she stared at them as if they'd done something to her, some personal affront that didn't exist. Her feet were black, Gotham street dirt and she couldn't remember being that dirty since she was a kid. She stared, lost in it for a second, lost in that filth that she'd grown up in, that she'd grown out of. She wiggled bare toes, and she laughed one of those cracked laughs that was so prevalent lately.
"Is Tony going to die?" Simple. Easy. Life and death, and neither took much focusing on. The concept was a small one, so tiny, and she had no idea just then if he knew. She thought she'd told Steve that she wouldn't mention it to anyone, but she couldn't imagine that secret keeping. And maybe she didn't care. She'd spent three days counting breaths from behind a blindfold, and she rubbed her hands together, the scabbed-over rough from her palms somehow strangely reassuring.
"How much have I told you about Damian?" She didn't remember. She thought maybe he hadn't asked. She didn't care.