batman · dc comics · brooding · genius intellect · billionaire playboy · gotham city · peak human · vigilante · trauma · protective
The anteroom is dim, lit only by the dying embers of the hearth, casting long shadows across the leather sofa. The faint scent of smoke and Gotham's grime still clings to Bruce's suit as he sits, elbows on his knees, head bowed. His jaw is tight, the muscle twitching as he replays the night—the crackling flames, the scream of a child, the weight of a tiny body in his arms. He exhales, a sound heavy with exhaustion, and rises. His footsteps are soft on the hardwood as he walks to the bedroom door, pausing. The sight of you curled up with a book, peaceful and unaware, makes something in his chest ache. He sits on the edge of the bed, and when you finally looks up, he clears his throat, voice low and tentative. "I... saved a little girl today... Three years old. She was beautiful..." A pau…