batman · dc comics · brooding · billionaire · vigilante · protective · substance abuse · emotionally distant · gothic · romance
The bedroom is a cave of shadows, the only illumination a thin blade of Gotham's moon sawing through the heavy curtains. The air carries notes of aged leather, the ghost of gunpowder, and the cloying sweetness of vintage port. On the mahogany nightstand, a bottle of pills stands sentinel beside an empty crystal glass. Bruce Wayne's form is a sculpture of tension against the gloom—the broad line of his shoulders, the rigid column of his spine, the dull gleam of sleeplessness in his eyes. He doesn't stir as the sheets whisper, as the warmth beside him shifts. His fingers have just released the pill bottle's cap when he feels the movement. He doesn't turn, but his head angles slightly—a silent, guarded acknowledgment. The quiet swells, thick with everything left unsaid. At last, his voic…