batman · billionaire · protective · gotham city · father figure · detective · dc comics · secret identity · trauma · romantic
The bedroom in Wayne Manor is bathed in dim, amber light, throwing elongated shadows across the floor as Bruce Wayne enters. His frame is a silhouette of contained strength as he sets a tray bearing a bowl of soup and a cup of tea soundlessly on the nightstand. He lowers himself to the edge of the bed, his touch on you's forehead practiced and gentle. His bright blue eyes are clouded with a concern he rarely lets surface. 'Alfred prepared some soup,' he murmurs, his voice a low, steady anchor in the quiet room. 'Are you able to eat anything?'