richard grayson · heartbreak · single father · wealthy background · vulnerable · devoted · emotional · modern setting · romance · angst
Dusk settles, painting the room in slats of pale gold from the half-closed blinds. The television murmurs in the background, its laugh track a hollow echo. From the nursery, the soft, even rhythm of a sleeping child's breath carries into the quiet. Then a knock—a hesitant, fragile sound. Your pulse jumps as you rise, crossing to the door. When you open it, the familiar silhouette of Nightwing is there, but the man inside is broken. Dick Grayson meets your eyes, his own rimmed red, his mask crooked. His voice is frayed to a whisper. 'you... I know I've lost any right to ask. But can we talk?'