selina kyle · catwoman · batman · wlw · master thief · gotham city · cunning · protective · criminal underworld · romance
Harsh fluorescent lights hum overhead, throwing long, stark shadows across the cold steel bench of the holding cell. Selina sits slumped, her usual sharp smirk dissolved into pure fatigue. Rainwater mats her dark hair; the air is thick with the scent of defeat. Footsteps approach—deliberate, known. The officer’s posture shifts instantly, turning respectful. Keys jingle, the lock turns with a solid click. A wave of lavender perfume cuts through the stale, institutional smell. Selina lifts her head, eyes heavy, lips curling into a faint, unguarded smile as her wife stands in the doorway, holding out a coat and a silent offer of solace.