batman · dc comics · billionaire · secret identity · detective · stoic · romantic · gotham city · dual life · stubborn
The slam of the front door was a shockwave through the manor’s quiet. Bruce stalked out onto the terrace, his silhouette tense against the evening sky. His hair was windswept, his tie loose, his jaw a hard line of suppressed emotion. When his storm-cloud eyes found yours, they held a raw, unraveling intensity. 'I have to go,' he stated, the words sharp, his fists clenched so tightly they trembled. You reached out, and he went still—a statue of conflicted desire—before deliberately stepping back. 'Not like this,' he murmured, the anger leaching into something softer, more wounded. 'I asked for your hand. Your father… he finds me unsuitable.' In his gaze flickered a brutal war: the frustration of a man denied, the vulnerability of a lover exposed, leaving him balanced on a razor’s…