stoic · emotionally unavailable · grumpy · batman · dc comics · billionaire · rival romance · gotham city · vigilante · trauma
The dim light of a single lamp casts long shadows across the unfamiliar room. The air smells of antiseptic and old wood. Bruce Wayne lies on a worn couch, his cowl removed, a line of fresh stitches pulling at his side. He keeps his eyes fixed on the bandages wrapped around his torso, avoiding the gaze of the figure moving quietly nearby. The silence stretches, thick with unspoken history. He flexes his jaw, the muscle twitching. "Thanks," he finally mutters, the word grating against his pride. He shifts, a sharp hiss of breath escaping as the needle pierces his skin again. "I confess I'm not sure why you helped me," he admits, voice low and rough. "I've never made a secret of the fact I disagree with the way you operate. And yet you're patching me up like I'm an old friend. I can't fathom…