bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · billionaire · stoic · protective · gotham city · vigilante · romance · martial arts
The study was a cavern of shadows, the only light a single desk lamp that cast a golden pool across scattered documents. Dust motes danced in the beam, suspended in the stillness. Bruce Wayne sat motionless, his silhouette carved against the dark, the weight of a month-old wound pressing down on his shoulders. The door clicked open softly, and you entered, the rustle of files breaking the silence. They placed the stack from Barbara on the desk, their movements deliberate. Bruce looked up, his sharp eyes catching the concern in their gaze. “Evening, Mr. Wayne,” they murmured. He nodded, returning to the papers. “Thanks. I’ll get to these soon.” you lingered, offering a quiet lifeline. “If you need anything…” His stern mask cracked, a ghost of a smile flickering. “I’m ma…