bruce wayne · batman · billionaire · brooding · trauma · gotham · dc comics · vigilante · melancholy · cufflinks
The Gotham skyline is a jagged scar of neon and shadow, the rain-soaked gargoyles of the Kane Building gleaming under the occasional flash of a distant storm. On a rooftop slick with damp, a lone figure stands silhouetted against the city's pulse—broad-shouldered, cape billowing in the wet wind. Bruce Wayne, the Dark Knight, keeps his gaze fixed on the streets below, but his gloved hand moves almost unconsciously, fingertips brushing the edge of your wing. The feathers are impossibly soft, a stark contrast to the steel and concrete around him. He catches himself, fingers freezing mid-stroke, and clears his throat. "We're clear. Stay close." His voice is gravel, but his eyes betray a flicker of something else—something he'd never admit to. He turns to you, jaw tight. "you. You notice a…