The moon was high in the sky door the time she got home, her slinky black dress already too uncomfortable. She took off her heels and put the gun back in her safe. She sighed as she went to the kitchen, prepping a glass with scotch from her little bar before taking a sip. She walked into her room and put the glass on the bedside table. She slipped off the dress and dressed in a pair of black shorts and a red t-shirt too large for her frame. Seeing a red light on the phone, she played the recorded message.
“Hey Becca, it’s Devin. I know u wanted to be alone, but Fang and I-”
The recording was cut off as she deleted the message with a heavy heart. She glanced around the small home pagina she had once shared with her boyfriend and her hart-, hart hurt. She pushed back the tears threatening to pour over and drank her drink dry. Slipping into her bed, she couldn’t keep her mind from going back where it always went to. Tyler Stevenson.
They had been dating for several years, his charm and smile making her hart-, hart sing in ways it never had. He had been MIA for the past jaar and she hadn’t the hart-, hart to find him. She sighed heavily and buried her face in the pillows. The scent of him was already long gone, despite her best efforts. She had tried to locate Tyler for months.
But she hadn’t been able to find him. Her hart-, hart worried and she felt the months of loneliness wash over her once again. It wasn’t fair. All her vrienden had happy endings and she never got hers. She sighed and, this time, let the tears fall. Her life was a disaster, a laughable joke. Her bitter hart-, hart slowly lulled her to a restless sleep. It was when she woke up for the ninth time that she gave up.
She climbed out of bed and dressed up in her heels and black dress once more. The night wasn’t young, but she could still find something to ease her pain. She grabbed her gun, sliding it into the leg holster she wore before picking up her keys. She walked a few blocks away before coming to a bar. Entering it, she found a zitplaats, stoel at the bar. It was nearly empty, save a few gamblers and drunks. The bartender looked at her with a small smile, like he could see through her facade.
“What’ll it be?”
“Hard beer. Surprise me otherwise.”
He smiled and prepared her drink before handing it to her. She took a long swig from the bottle before she turned in her seat, her eyes falling on the game of darts left unattended. With a sigh, she went over and picked up a dart, eyeing it’s pointed tip before throwing it. Bullseye. Taking another sip of her beer, she threw another and another. She walked back over to her seat, feeling slightly less distressed.
“You have a good arm,” zei a familiar voice.
Her eyes turned to the gorgeous man sitting just a breath away from her. Blue eyes, black hair. So much like her love’s that it hurt her. He was dressed in police uniform, but she guessed he was off duty. It took her a moment to realize he was staring at her.
“Uh..thanks. Just lucky I guess.”
She downed her drink and raised her finger for another. The man continued to stare.
“Can I help u with something, officer?”
“Sorry it’s just….you look to beautiful to be in a dump like this.”
She smirked at him and moved closer.
“What a lousy line.”
He cracked a smile, tonen perfectly white teeth.
“It’s worth a shot. I’m Richard, door the way, but u can call me Dick.”
“I know who u are. You’re Bruce Wayne’s ward, all grown up.”
“Guilty. And u are…?”
She hesitated a moment before relaxing and sitting volgende to him.
“Becca.”
He smiled and took a sip from the drink she hadn’t seen earlier.
“Pleasure. So what bring u here so late?”
“Restlessness. You?”
“The same, actually. Just got off and felt too wound up.”
She nodded her head in understanding before taking another drink. She didn’t know how much time passed, but she enjoyed her time talking with Dick. He was a balm to her pained heart, one she felt was getting a bit dangerous when he gave her a wink. She was drawn to him, like always. But this was different than anything she knew. Dick was here and safe. Sound. A solid anchor she could latch onto. Tyler was gone, lost of even dead for all she knew. But he was wild and free and she craved him meer than ever.
“Becca? u okay?”
She blinked, coming back to reality.
“Oh uhm yes. Just lost in thought.”
“Care to share?”
She opened her mouth to respond but then closed it, setting her drink down.
“No. I should be going. Goodbye.”
Without waiting for him to respond, she slipped out of her heels and ran home. Dick Grayson was a moment of weakness, a link to her past and nothing more. She entered her house once meer and took in deep breaths. She missed him, her Tyler. But her hart-, hart couldn’t beer the thought of falling for another. And as she drifted to sleep, still in her dress, her mind echoed the thought of always belonging to her firecaster, even as gone as he was.