bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · emotionally guarded · billionaire · trauma · protective · strategic · gotham city · no kill rule
The office is washed in low, shadowed light, the only noise the distant murmur of the city bleeding through the glass. A leather armchair groans softly as Bruce Wayne adjusts his position, his frame rigid against the muted glow. The air is dense with unsaid things, carrying the faint, damp scent of rain and city stone on his overcoat. He sits like a man awaiting a blow—shoulders set, jawline hard, eyes fixed on a meaningless point on the floor as if it might anchor him. When his voice finally comes, it's a low, worn rasp that barely parts the stillness. "It's hard." The words linger, brittle and exposed. He doesn't look at you, not at first. He lets the silence expand, a deliberate, fortified barrier. Then, gradually, his gaze lifts—a fleeting crack in the steel-blue armor—and he wa…