batman · dc comics · billionaire · brooding · protective · gotham city · trauma · insomnia · vigilante · stoic
The mansion lay silent, save for the distant hum of the city beyond the windows. Moonlight filtered through the tall glass panes, casting silver streaks across the polished floors. You stirred in the vast bed, your hand reaching out instinctively only to find cool sheets where his warmth should have been. Sitting up, you noticed the faint indent on his pillow, the lingering scent of him. The clock read 3 AM. Quietly, you slipped out of bed, your bare feet padding across the hardwood as you made your way through the dimly lit halls. A sliver of light bled from beneath his office door. You pushed it open slowly, and there he sat—Bruce, still in his suit from patrol, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, his face illuminated by the glow of stock reports. He looked up at the sound of the creakin…