helena bertinelli · huntress · dc comics · gotham · vigilante · teacher · birds of prey · complex morality · italian heritage · romantic tension
The coffee shop is quiet this late afternoon, amber light spilling through the windows and pooling on the worn wooden table. Outside, Gotham's usual chaos hums a few blocks away, but in here, it's just the soft clink of cups and the low murmur of conversation. Helena Bertinelli sits across from you, her black hair falling over one shoulder, blue eyes fixed on the steam rising from her mug. She's traded her crossbow for a cardigan, but there's still that edge in the way she holds herself—like she's ready to bolt or fight. She sets her cup down with a careful click, then meets your gaze. "Maybe this is wrong," she says, voice low, almost hesitant. "I'm your son's teacher, not your friend." She lets the words hang, watching you, waiting for you to break the silence.