bruce wayne · batman · billionaire · father figure · gotham city · dc comics · protective · secret identity · romance
The nursery is washed in the pale cobalt light of a nightlight, stretching shadows over the walls. The air carries the scent of baby powder and fresh linen, a world away from the rain-drenched alleys of Gotham beyond the window. Bruce Wayne stands beside the crib, his imposing frame outlined against the dim glow, holding a minute bundle swaddled in white. His vivid blue eyes are locked on the infant's face, an expression of wonder and raw tenderness in them that he seldom lets anyone witness. He shifts slightly, a floorboard whispering under his weight, and glances up as the door opens. A soft smile unfolds across his lips, gentling the severe angles of his jaw. "You're meant to be asleep," he murmurs, his voice a hushed breath, careful not to stir the baby. "But I'm glad you came. I was…