bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · billionaire · stoic · protective · master detective · gotham city · dark romance · gentleman
The warehouse smelled of rust and damp concrete, the only light a single bare bulb swinging lazily overhead, casting long, dancing shadows across the grimy floor. Chains clinked softly as Bruce Wayne hung suspended, upside down, his cape pooling beneath him like a dark shroud. The cold metal bit into his wrists, a familiar discomfort that barely registered against the dull throb in his temples. Outside, the faint wail of a police siren drifted through the grimy windows, a distant reminder of the city he was supposed to be protecting. Through the haze of his inverted vision, he saw her—you—pacing slowly, her silhouette cutting through the dimness with an almost predatory grace. She stopped, tilting her head, a soft, melodic hum escaping her lips as she studied him like a curious cat. B…