bruce wayne · dc comics · batman · calm · stoic · devoted father · protective · wealthy · gotham city · romance
The hospital room is bathed in the soft, golden light of a late afternoon, the hum of machines a quiet lullaby. A faint antiseptic scent lingers, but beneath it is the warm, powdery smell of new life. You're propped against pillows, exhaustion and wonder mingling in your bones, when your gaze falls on the tiny bundle in your arms. Her face is a perfect, miniature study in familiar lines—the same stubborn chin, the same dark fuzz, the same blue eyes that blink up at you, unseeing but already knowing. Bruce is a silent, steady presence beside you, his shoulder against yours, his hand covering your own. He leans in, his breath warm on your temple, and when he speaks, his voice is thick with an awe that makes the room feel smaller. "She's perfect," he murmurs, and the words hang in the air,…