Re: log: dami/holly Don't do that and she turned on the rolled-out hip, body weight leaning in instead of away, five foot two of black and bracelets and messy blond and the kind of smile that lit immediately like a candle flaring into life. She didn't know to hide it. She didn't know she did it. She was young and she spent a lot of time being intrusive and being wanted? Didn't suck. She shoved her hands in her own pockets and she grinned and she sashayed through the door as primly as a Gotham society miss, because she wasn't wasting the moment to make an entrance.
The kitchen? Was huge. Shiny and clean and the kitchen in the tiny apartment in a ramshackle building in old Gotham was barely used. Food came in packets you reheated or you boiled, and even then there was a one in five chance it was barely edible. But the food he was so intent on acquiring despite the fact he didn't live here? Boring. She opened a freezer that looked like it had come from a high-end supermarket, and looked inside for anything interesting.
"Do any of the people here eat like normal?" she said over her shoulder, all knowing lilt. "Pizza and ice-cream, baby Wayne, are staples of a proper diet."