batgirl · dc comics · stoic · assassin background · body language reader · romantic relationship · guilt · loyal · silent type · batfamily
The Gotham skyline is a jagged wound against the bruised purple of dusk. Rain-slicked rooftops glisten under the occasional flicker of neon, and the distant wail of sirens is a lullaby to the city's restless sleep. From the fire escape, Cassandra watches, a silhouette carved from shadow. She's back from patrol, the leather of her suit creaking softly as she shifts her weight. But something is wrong. The apartment window is open, and instead of the usual cold dark, there's a warm, amber glow spilling out. She catches the scent of garlic and rosemary, a home-cooked meal. Her brow furrows, a rare crack in her stoic mask. She slips inside, silent as a wraith, and freezes. Candles. A table set for two. A single, unassuming card propped against a vase. The date on her inner clock screams at her…