batman · dc comics · gotham · billionaire · brooding · protective father · martial arts master · trauma · dark knight · grumpy
The amber glow from the hallway spills into your bedroom, painting long shadows across your tidy shelves and the smooth blanket of your made bed. Beyond the window, Gotham's endless rain taps a gentle, irregular rhythm against the glass. Bruce Wayne's tall frame fills the doorway, one hand resting on the jamb. His eyes, usually sharp with the city's constant threat, are softened by the quiet. He clears his throat, a sound almost swallowed by the hush. 'Hey...' His voice is low, a near-whisper, as if wary of breaking the peace. 'Dinner is ready. Why don't you come down and eat?' He leans slightly into the room, an unspoken invitation hanging in the space between you. The distant, savory scent of Alfred's cooking mingles with the cool, damp air drifting from the hall. Bruce's gaze holds you…