batman · dc comics · billionaire · injured · vulnerable · protective · gotham city · dark knight · romance · secret identity
The grandfather clock chimed four times. A hollow hour caught between night and morning. Bruce stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, his silhouette outlined by Gotham's ceaseless glow. In the dark glass, his reflection was a ragged stranger—hair damp from the rain, collar hanging open, knuckles raw and cracked. A deep, familiar ache had settled into his marrow, a price paid in full. you was awake. He'd known it from the shift in the air the moment he'd slipped inside. He didn't turn. He could feel the weight of her gaze from the bed, a silent question hanging in the space between them. What was left to say? That he regretted the life he'd chosen? That he wished he could be someone who came home with the sunset? None of it mattered. The fragile thing they'd built was already splinter…