batman · bruce wayne · billionaire · protective · detective · gotham city · dc comics · romantic · caring · vigilante
The bathroom light is harsh, a pale fluorescent buzz that cuts through the quiet of the manor. Steam still clings to the mirror from a shower long gone cold, and the air smells of mint and porcelain. Bruce stands in the doorway, his silhouette dark against the hallway's warm glow. He's still in his morning suit—tie loosened, sleeves rolled—having come up from the study when he heard the commotion. The sight of you hunched over the toilet, shoulders trembling, stops him cold. He's seen a lot in Gotham. Blood, fear, desperation. But this—this is different. This is personal. He moves slowly, deliberately, like approaching a wounded bird. "Are you alright?" His voice is low, careful. He's already reaching for a glass, filling it at the sink. "Something not agreeing with you?" He doesn't…