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god of death

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So that was it, huh? Dropped off in some random street of Gotham when it just started to get dark, so chivalrous of him. No thank you, Selina, for helping me see reason, or at least some recognition of how she makes him see things clearly, not even a k-

"Of course I know you can defend yourself, but don't you think it's better if I leave you at your club?" Selina mumbled to herself walking down the street. "Why, not Bruce, it's fine, don't worry about it! Stupid prick."

It was easy to tell that Selina was livid. That idiot had the nerve-

She stopped suddenly, forcing some people to step to the side so they wouldn't collapse against her, and ever so slowly Selina breathed in, and then out, eyes closing and opening in the same rhythm. Breathing exercises were something Tabitha was constantly bugging her about, and they were a necessary evil, she admitted it. Breathing, you see, should be a natural thing your body does, not something you'd have to remember to do whenever you'd get angry, or scared or blindly furious because a stupid billionaire psyched you into a kiss.

"I'm gonna kill him," Selina said to herself with a decided nodded, fixing her jacket with angry fingers. "I'm gonna kill him with a butter knife."

Her fingers brushed on the whip attached to her hip, but she didn't even think of using it. The whip would be too gentle. She liked the idea of the butter knife better.

Of course, the day's events weren't oh, so ideal, and maybe she could've kept her mouth shut, but she never had to watch her mouth when it came to Bruce, and he never was that gentle to talk about her anyway, so why should she?

Selina knew what Barbara would say about it. She'd say something in the likes of if you want to have the guy wrapped around your pinky you should talk and act the way he wants you to talk and act, and be all nice, soft corners, yada yada.

Problem was, Bruce knew Selina too well. He'd know if her behavior changed to something more… docile.

She made a face. Docile was a word Selina did not like.

Almost without noticing, her feet started moving again, and she turned a right in the next corner, mind going a hundred miles per hour. She hated Bruce Wayne so much. He was a brat billionaire who never missed a beat to treat her like shit. Well, not exactly like shit, but he was pretty good at being a douchbag to her, even though she said that to his face not that long ago.

And he did it again! That idiot! He was so dead.

Meaning, probably literally, because the dumbass went to find Jerome Valeska, but if he managed to stay alive after that, he'd better pray Selina won't find him because she would most definitely ki-

Selina stopped short, and not only because her brain was halfway between kiss and kill as options to do with Bruce, but because her feet… took her… here. That… was Bruce's car. Parked in front of the diner. And yes, she knew where the diner was, she had been the one to tell Bruce how to get here, but damn, if she wanted to stay away from that place!

If Bruce was supposed to die tonight by other hands that weren't hers, she didn't want to watch!

Except that watching was what she was doing because the half-closed curtains weren't hiding shit. While Bruce wrestled a guy twice his size, Jerome watched amusedly, and if the guy didn't break his neck, Jerome would certainly shoot.

Selina swallowed nervously and looked around. The street was desert as if anyone around knew better than to stay around and just found cover. Well, everyone except for her, and she was not going to stay and watch either. She was going to do something.

As she found a way in through the back, Selina remembered something. It was an almost ancient memory she had of when she and Bruce first met. Something she knew for quite a while now.

That boy, he didn't just have a huge ego, as she pointed out earlier. He had a death wish.

Stupid brat billionaire.

Not today.