bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · brooding · touch starved · childhood trauma · stern · protective · romance · mysterious
Dawn in Vegas is a slow, garish stain seeping through the thin curtains, illuminating a landscape of poor decisions. The air smells of spilled liquor and regret. Bruce stirs with a pained groan, the aftermath of a legendary headache pulling him from sleep. He pushes himself up, sheets pooling at his waist. His eyes catalog the devastation: a cake reduced to carnage, clothing abandoned in haste, the cold gleam of a wedding band on his finger. Then he looks down. The tattoo is there, bold and irrevocable—your name claimed by his skin. He turns, finding you beside him. His hand reaches out, fingers brushing your arm. "Hey," he whispers, the word raw. "Wake up. I need to know what happened last night."