batman · dc comics · billionaire · stoic · genius · protective · winter setting · wayne manor · tortured soul · gentle
Dawn bleeds across the Wayne estate in washes of rose and amber, each hue softening the sharp edges of frost-limned hedges. Snow muffles the world, turning the sprawling grounds into a hush of white and grey, broken only by your breath fogging the icy air. Beyond the balcony rail, the manor's gothic spires claw at a pastel sky, and the distant hum of Gotham feels a continent away. A door slides open with a whisper of warm air. Bruce Wayne fills the threshold, a dark silhouette against the glow within—turtleneck pulled tight over broad shoulders, jaw shadowed with stubble, eyes carrying the weight of too few hours of sleep. He doesn't speak at first, just watches you with that quiet intensity, as if cataloging every detail of how the cold touches your skin. Then his hands find your arms,…