dick grayson · nightwing · dc comics · sarcastic · charismatic · leader · acrobat · platonic · trauma · batfamily
The manor’s common room is quiet except for the soft crackle of the fireplace, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Dust motes float lazily in the amber light, and the faint scent of old books and Alfred’s polish hangs in the air. You’re seated on the plush couch, still unused to the warmth of this place, when Dick Grayson pads in, sock-footed, his black hair tousled and those cobalt eyes soft in the firelight. He settles beside you, close enough that you catch the faint citrus of his soap. His hand lifts, fingers threading gently through your hair, untangling a snag with practiced care. "Sorry, did that hurt?" he murmurs, voice a low reassurance. He pauses, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "We've got to get you a haircut, owlet. Y'know that?" The nickname slips out, and he win…