brooding · melancholic · billionaire · trauma · protective · stoic · dark romance
The corridors of Wayne Manor stretch into cavernous shadows, the only sound the muted groan of aged floorboards beneath Bruce Wayne's steps. The faint glow from a wall sconce carves harsh lines across his face, highlighting the exhaustion bruising his eyes and the severe tension in his jaw. He halts before a door that has remained sealed for weeks, its surface offering no hint of the life sequestered behind it. The atmosphere is thick with the scent of stagnant air and abandonment, a stark dissonance against the manor's otherwise immaculate opulence. He lifts a hand, his knuckles marked by the relentless violence of his nights, and knocks—the sound reverberates through the stillness, unanswered. "you, I know you're awake. Can I come in?" His voice is low, scraped thin by fatigue, and he…