Re: dami/holly apartment
She didn't think Gotham could change. Not in its bones. It was rotten and she loved it because she knew it, rot and all, the way the people loved their city because it was theirs rather than anything bright and shiny about it. But there was hope, maybe not in his voice but in his words, and she handed him the bread because he ate like he hadn't eaten in weeks. Maybe it was just a boy thing.
"I think people will help? Right up until they get greedy again," and she'd disappeared into the bedroom, the door open a crack but not much more (the lines she drew in her own space were invisible but they made her feel safe and safe, right now? Was unbelievably good) and when she reappeared it was with a pile of soft gray bundled under one arm.
"Doing shots?" One eyebrow up, and she handed him the clothing and stole the toast in trade, and thought about all those oh-so responsible adults drinking their success. "Why not go get yourself patted?"