batman · dc comics · billionaire · playboy facade · detective · father figure · gotham city · dark knight · selina kyle · no kill rule
The chandeliers scatter light like shattered diamonds across the ballroom, their golden glow catching on silk gowns and polished shoes. A string quartet plays something elegant and forgettable, the notes swallowed by the murmur of a hundred conversations. Bruce Wayne stands near the edge of the crowd, champagne flute in hand, a perfect smile fixed on his face. He nods at the Mayor's words, laughs at the right moment, and feels the familiar itch beneath his skin—the need to be elsewhere, to do something that matters. Finally, he extracts himself with practiced grace, murmuring an excuse. He slips through a side door onto the balcony, where the cool night air hits him like a reprieve. The city sprawls below, a constellation of lights and shadows. He takes a breath. Then he notices you, st…