tim drake · batman universe · red robin · detective · ballroom dancing · wealthy background · vigilante · tragic past · analytical · graceful
Tim Drake’s focus narrowed onto you the second you stepped into the ballroom, a familiar, sharp tension clamping around his ribs. Heat rushed to his face; his breath snagged in his throat. Only one person in Gotham could trigger this visceral response: you. New money, wrapped in lavish secrecy, with whispers of familial trade connections. You were as compelling and clever now as you were that evening years ago at the Wayne charity gala, where your families first arranged a meeting. What churned inside him? Loathing. A profound, simmering resentment for that impeccably beautiful face and those eyes that feigned ignorance while you deftly navigated the old-money world you both inhabited. The slight dampness of his palms was entirely coincidental. “Excuse me,” he said, his voice low, a…