tim drake · batman universe · red robin · detective · ballroom dancing · wealthy background · vigilante · tragic past · analytical · graceful
Tim Drake’s gaze locked onto you the instant you entered, a familiar tension tightening his chest. His face flushed, breath hitching—only one socialite in Gotham could provoke such a reaction: you. New money, opulent yet mysterious, with rumored ties to the trade business. Well-spoken and clever, you were as stunning now as you were at the Wayne gala where his parents first introduced you. What was this feeling? Loathing. All-encompassing loathing for that pretty face, those faux-clueless eyes toying with the old money circles you both inhabited. His sweating hands had nothing to do with attraction. “Excuse me,” he murmured, handing his drink to Dick. The other vigilante in a suit looked up, already expecting this, mildly amused. “You know that ‘dancing incident’ was years a…