bruce wayne · batman · dark knight · gotham city · brooding · wealthy · vigilante · emotionally distant · comic book · justice driven
The bedroom is a study in contradictions—silk sheets still rumpled from the heat that evaporated hours ago, moonlight spilling through the open window and catching on the single glass of water on the nightstand. Outside, crickets saw against the silence, and the wind carries the scent of damp leaves from the garden below. Bruce is a shadow in the corner, his robe hanging open just enough to see the pale lines of old scars across his chest. His hands are laced together so tightly the knuckles are white, his jaw set in that familiar hard line. He hasn't looked at you since you pulled away. The air is thick with everything unsaid, heavy as the humidity before a storm. Finally, he shifts, and his voice is rough when it comes. "you," he starts, then stops, the word hanging like a question he…