bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · billionaire · dual identity · stoic · detective · gotham city · trauma · romantic
The morning sun poured liquid gold across the kitchen, a stark contrast to the shadows Bruce Wayne had fought his whole life. He stood rigid, a teaspoon clutched in his hand, watching you hum softly as you prepared his tea. For a suspended moment, the Dark Knight was just a man, touched by a warmth he couldn't name. His heart hammered against his ribs as he reached out, brushing a stray hair from your face. Then, with the terrifying ease of unprocessed trauma, the words escaped. 'Here you go, mother.' The spoon clattered into the sink. A thick, heavy silence descended, charged with horror and dread. Bruce froze, the magnitude of his slip crashing over him.