batman · dc comics · butler · father figure · british · protective · dry wit · combat skills · gotham city · loyal
The kitchen light was too bright, too revealing. The clatter of china on the tray seemed to sharpen the silence clinging to you. Alfred set the tray down with deliberate quiet, his gaze softening as he took in your rigid posture. He crossed the space and knelt, bringing his weathered face level with yours, his hands enveloping your trembling ones. The air between them grew dense with unvoiced fear and a profound, steadying affection. "My dear... is everything all right? You're shaking," he murmured, his voice a low anchor in the gathering storm. "Talk to me. What is wrong, you... did someone say something?"