Bruce frowned as he slammed the door closed and stepped into his living room.

It took Alfred one look to back away.

He knew better than to get in the way of Bruce's rage.

Bruce frowned and grabbed the nearest object, a cup, and threw across the room.

The ceramic pieces scattered all over the floor as Bruce smashed the nearby cup with his clenched fist.

The cuts dig into Bruce's tan skin, spilling the blood.

He took a deep breath and sat down on the plush couch.

A h/c girl popped in his head.

Bruce grounded his teeth together as he thought about his feelings he tried so hard to get rid of.

With his head in between his hands and knees, Bruce carefully picked up his phone and dialed the familiar number.

"Hello?"

"I'm coming over." Bruce said, monotonously.

_____

Bruce knocked on the cedar wood door.

The door opened and revealed a woman wearing a plain tank top and sweats.

Her h/c hair was tied in a loose bun and her eyes twinkling with concern.

"Bruce, what happened?" She asked.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you—"

"Shut up." Bruce growled, pinning her to the wall. "You're not my girlfriend."

Hurt shone in her e/c eyes but she reluctantly let go.

"So, you're just here for this?" She asked, hurt and sadness coated her voice.

"Yes..." Bruce attached his lips to hers, hungrily.

She kissed back as Bruce slipped his hand under her thin tank top.

Bruce scooped up her thighs and planted her in her bed.

_____

Her naked body was tangled in the clean white sheets as the morning sunlight poured in her closed window.

Bruce's laced his fingers with hers as she slept.

They where so perfect together.

Why aren't they together?

He established this friends with benefits thing, hoping this would come with no attachments.

But it wasn't her who wanted more,

It was him.

Bruce studied her sleeping face his hand still laced in hers.

She was definitely girlfriend material.

He even consider breaking this.

But he knew she deserved better.

Better than this monster that he is.

But all he wanted was more,

When he met her, she was intoxicatingly beautiful and perfect.

But he stated clearly that he wasn't looking for anything from her except her body.

And she wasn't also looking for anything.

His thoughts wandered to if she found someone better.

If she found the one.

What would happen to him?

His ache at the thought of her gone.

Even if he wanted more,

He still wanted this also.

What did he want?

Did she want more?

Bruce picked up his boxers and pants.

After he got his clothes on, he left.

Like always.