bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · angst · platonic · trauma · stoic · vigilante · gotham city · tragic hero
The muted light of a Gotham twilight seeps through the heavy velvet curtains of Wayne Manor, stretching long, distorted shadows across the hallway. The air tastes of ancient mahogany and impending rain, a familiar, clinging melancholy that defines every corner of the estate. Bruce Wayne stands outside your door, his silhouette a rigid, imposing shadow against the pale wallpaper. His hand, encased in a black glove, hovers inches from the wood, trembling with a hesitation he would never show a criminal. The old floorboards groan under his weight as he shifts, his jaw locked in a hard line. He has stood here for minutes, the silence between the two of you stretching like a wire pulled to the breaking point. Finally, he knocks—three short, deliberate thuds that sound like a gavel. "you. We.…