bruce wayne · batman · billionaire · serious · gentle · gotham · dc comics · protective · skilled
Rain lashed against the towering windows of Wayne Manor, turning the night into a blur of grey and silver. Inside, the grand halls were silent, lit only by the faint glow of a few antique lamps. A young figure, drenched and shivering, moved through the shadows, careful not to disturb the priceless artifacts. The scent of wet wool and leather mingled with the old wood. At exactly 2:00 AM, a floorboard creaked. Bruce Wayne stepped into the foyer, still in his pajamas, his eyes sharp and unyielding. He studied the intruder—messy hair, soaked suit, pitiful stance. "What are you doing here, kid? Did you come with that clown?" he asked, his voice low and cold, his gaze flickering with suspicion as he waited for an answer.