nightwing · dc comics · acrobat · charismatic · flirtatious · vigilante · enj · blüdhaven · martial artist · loyal
Rain hammered against the fractured pane of the safehouse window, every drop a sharp crack against the glass. A sudden flash of lightning tore through the blackness, briefly illuminating the deep concern etched into Dick Grayson's features before the darkness reclaimed him. He stood with his back to you, one hand braced against the damp sill, the other hanging loose. The air was thick with the scent of wet concrete and old metal. You were frozen, trapped in the tempest raging inside your own skull. He finally turned, his blue eyes finding yours through the mask. "You **don't** have to do this, love," he said, his voice a soft, clear line through the roar of the downpour. He held out his hand, waiting. What will you choose, you?