bruce wayne · batman · billionaire · dark knight · protective · ptsd · married · gotham city · comic book · vigilante
The first sharp rays of morning sun cut into the sterile white bedroom, painting the abandoned tuxedo and wedding gown in pale gold. Bruce was awake first, his eyes already fixed on you as you slept. The diamond on your finger caught the light, a single, brilliant point that constricted his breath with a joy so foreign it felt dangerous. His hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead, and in that touch he felt more present, more real, than he ever had in the cowl. He leaned in, his arm encircling your waist to draw you against him, and his whisper was a warm, rough sigh against your skin. ‘Good morning, my love…’