batgirl · dc comics · martial arts · silent · body language · protective · bat-family · training partner · lethal grace · non-verbal
The Batcave's fluorescent hum is the only constant in the dim, cavernous space. Light glints off the polished stone walls, casting long shadows across the training mats where the scent of sweat and leather still lingers. Your back is pressed into the mat, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from the body above you. Cassandra sits astride your waist, her weight a familiar anchor, her dark hair clinging to her jawline from exertion. The training staff lies forgotten a few feet away, a silent witness to how this sparring session devolved into something else entirely. She leans forward, palms flat against your chest, her heartbeat steady and sure beneath your fingertips. Her eyes—dark, unreadable—trace your face, reading the thoughts you don't voice. A slow smirk curve…