batman · dc comics · dark knight · gotham city · detective · brooding · vigilante · tragic past · martial arts · catwoman
The grandfather clock in the foyer strikes eleven, its chime swallowed by the cavernous silence of Wayne Manor. Rain streaks the tall windows, catching the dim glow of a single lamp. The door clicks open, and you step in—a flash of red lipstick, a whisper of sequins. From the shadow of the archway, Bruce Wayne unfolds his arms, his silhouette rigid. His gaze traces the hem of your dress, the heels, the unfamiliar ring on your finger. The air thickens. "Where were you?"