Phobia.

“I am looking at you.”

“No,” My hand was around a warm cup, hot chocolate, about the only hot drink I could bare, “You’re looking through me, continuously.”

“Of course I am Keira.” He dismissed me, taking off his jacket.

Another three weeks, another two apartments.
No change in our destroyed relationship.

“I just want to know exactly what did this?”

“Did what?”

“This,” I indicated between us, “Whatever made us go from whatever we were to whatever this is.”

“That’s really descriptive.”

“Oh stop being so pretentious!” The corner of his mouth turned upwards.

“Pretentious, you think that’s what I’m being?”

“I think you’re punishing me for being stupid and seeing Jonathon. And I get you were pissed off, but I don’t get how you freezing me out and being so fucking mean is an acceptable response!”

“I’m not...”He sighed, hand on the back of his neck, “Keira...”

“I am fucking sick of it Blake, I’ve been trying for a month to get fucking through to you and...” My arms seem to fling up of their own accord, “I am sick of it, I give up. I get that I am too mentally unstable for you, I know that is the issue here, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry my brother is a psychopath and there’s a bomb and we’re all going to die and I’m sorry I’m not any fucking better than him.”

Within a few steps I was out of the door, slamming it closed behind me which left me staring at the graffiti coated stairway, a large crudely drawn picture of Bane staring at me. I scoffed at it, starting to walk up, you could get onto the roof I’d discovered and I liked going up there when I wasn’t needed, wanted.

The apartment block was tall, on the verge of Oldtown and Downtown, you could see so much of the Gotham surrounding us, and at night, the rare lights, the fires that lit up sections of streets.

In twilight, as it was now, it was beautiful, you could look past the destruction, terror, death for just a moment, appreciate the orange light reflecting off the sky scrapers.

The light sprinkling of snow met me, only in an overlarge jumper.

But I was too stubborn, upset to go down now.
Fuck it, I’d just get pneumonia.

Before my fingers turned blue he appeared, draping a blanket over my shoulders.

“Don’t know why you always come up here.” He’d move behind me, tugging me from where I sat, legs dangling over the edge and back onto the metal grate, my back against his chest, blanket over both of us.

"I didn't realised you'd noticed."

I held in my sigh of relief as his body heat hit me.
I wanted to talk to him, so much, more than anything.

But at the same time he had made me feel terrible, unwanted for too long, especially with the threat of us all dying.
I wanted to die a better person than I had been, a better person that I was my whole life.

I wasn’t even born right, premature, jaundice, scrawny.

Jonathon said I cried straight for almost a month, and then I was clumsy, I would disappear in shops, pull plugs, there was still a slight burn down my thigh from where I had knocked a hot cup of tea over myself as a toddler.
My whole life I had been a screw-up, wrong in some way.

And I had done so much wrong, unable to avoid it like I normally did since Selina had brought it up before.
After a while I sighed, my back aching from fighting to stay away from him, instead I left myself melt into his chest, his arms around me, head resting on mine.

All I wanted was intimacy, affection from him, but not after he had been so cruel...was cruel the right word? He hadn’t been mean, just quiet, far away even when he was next to me.
His hand eventually moved over mine under the blanket, interlinking, thumb rubbing over my palms.

“What are you doing?” I asked eventually, having warmed up a bit more.

“I don’t know.” His hands slid from mine, rubbing up and down my arms.

“Don’t.” I shrugged them off, lifting my knees up and resting my head upon them. “You can’t just...suddenly decide to care again.”

“I didn’t stop caring.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“I know...I’ve been an asshole.” I granted him a smirk still staring out at the darkening city.

“Yeah, just a bit..I just... I don’t understand what I did, was it Jonathon?”

“Kinda.”

“And then I guess me admitting everything was the final straw.” He didn’t answer and I sighed, standing and dropping the blanket, instantly hit by the cold again.

“No, no, don’t walk away again Keira.”

“I’m sorry, you want to speak to me now?”

“Please don’t...”

“What, stand up for myself finally, tell you it’s not right to be a complete asshole to me for no reason?”

“I had a reason!” His voice lifted, catching in a hit of breeze. “I had a reason!”

“What, because I’m mentally unstable? Because my brother used to dress like a fucking scarecrow?! I’m sorry Blake, I’m really sorry I’m like this, but I am, and I thought you accepted that!”

“I thought I did too, but do you have any idea how much you just freak me out sometimes!”

“Wow,” My voice was a bite, “Apology accepted.”

“No, don’t...” He broke off again, coming to me and grabbing my hands.

“Don’t snatch at me.”

“I’m not, I want you to listen to me.”

“Get off of me.” I kicked at him, earning a wince, causing him to trip slightly, the both of us almost falling but my fight already gone.

“You know you can get arrested for assaulting a police officer?”

“You’re not a police officer,” I whined, hitting against his chest lightly, “You’re a detective.”

“I’m a dick.”

“That as well.” I let my hands fall, his own slowly dropping from my wrists.

“Do you know how many times I have asked you not to do something stupid?” He began, cutting me off, “And do you know how many hours I have spent worrying about you doing something stupid, because every time I urge you to keep yourself safe you just seem to have some kind of death wish!”

So like what Selina had said.

“And...I felt like I was somehow pushing you to that, like the more I told you to stay safe the less you did and...”

“It wasn’t like that. I just...I had to see him.”

“As you keep saying.”

“Look, I don’t expect you to understand, I don’t get it myself Blake, I don’t know why I’m like this...but...I though you kind of accepted it.”

“I do accept it. I just feel...” His eyes pulled away from mine, up into the darkening clouds, “I feel like the closer I get to you the more it hurts both of us, if nothing changes we’re going to be dead in three months and if we’re...” He gestured between us as I had in the apartment, “I can’t deal with that, everyone I care about fucking dies Keira.”

I snorted bitterly, feeling tears stinging, “Join the club.” He chuckled harshly, letting go completely of me, his head still up, a hand wiping under one eye.

“I was just scared and I think I thought making space meant it wouldn’t hurt.”

“It hurt me.” He nodded, finally looking back at me.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“You didn’t do anything.” I shrugged,

“I’ve done a lot of bad things, and I’m beginning to think I deserve this.”

“You do not. I promise you that, you deserve so much more than all this shit.”

“Even if I’m mentally unhinged?”

“Even if.” His hand was now on one cheek, mouth in a thin smile. “I...”he turned his head a little, the smirk a grin, “Fuck..”

“What?” I asked, a giggle building, tilting my head.

He was forgiven already.
Although in truth he could have said anything and I think I would have.

I wanted him.

More than that I needed him.

How pathetic.

“I...Keira...I love you...okay, and I know that sounds ridiculous but I just...I honestly do and that’s why I think I reacted so badly and...” I stopped him, grabbing him, my lips against his.

He didn’t just want me.

He loved me.

By the time he pulled away I was breathless, every hair on my body upright.
I was cold, yet so warm, my stomach fireworks.

“Is that okay?” I let my smile grow wide.

“It’s more than okay...but you’re okay with me...and all the baggage with it?”

“It’s more than okay.” He parroted, kissing me again, “But, it’s fucking freezing out here, so can we go inside?”

“Isn’t it romantic, kissing in the snow?”

“It won’t be as romantic if you have no fingers left.” I giggled into his mouth, letting my head flop on his shoulder, “Fine.”

He gathered the blanket, arm around my waist as we trailed inwards, the stairway such a difference in temperature I felt dizzy for a moment. Letting him guide me back down to the apartment, not wanting to let him go.

If I let him go I might lose him again.

Gordon was finally back, and he made chit chat, looking exhausted from such a long day before heading to bed, his plate on the small worktop.

“Are you hungry?” I shrugged, “You haven’t been eating much lately.”

So he had been paying attention, “I wasn’t hungry.” He lifted a brow, my hand locked with his as we moved to the small kitchen area, seeing what was left in the fridge.

Today was a good day, the electricity was on.

“Pasta?”

“Is there nothing else?”

“Rice.” I snorted, brushing past him, “Oh look, chilli...this!” he laughed at my excitement, watching as I shoved it into a saucepan, and put it on the stove. “It smells good.”

“It’s just chilli.”

“Amazing chilli.”

“You’re unusual, you know that.” I let him push me gently against the counter, body trapping me in position, his legs in-between mine. “You like it.”

“Yeah, I do.”

And everything was normal again, back to how it had been, better than that.

But that wasn’t to say things went smoothly.
Far from it.