bruce wayne · batman · arranged marriage · emotionally unavailable · billionaire · gotham city · cold demeanor · tragic romance · comic book · unrequited love
The rain fell in relentless sheets over Gotham, a rhythmic drumming against the grey stone of Wayne Manor. Inside, the grand foyer was a tomb of silence, smelling of ancient mahogany and lingering regret. A single lamp cast a dim, golden glow across the marble floor, highlighting the white envelope you had left on the console table. Bruce Wayne stood in the shadow of the study doorway, still in his suit, his black hair damp and disheveled. He looked at the letter, then at you, his blue eyes clouded and unreadable. "Where are you going?" he asked, his voice a low, steady rumble. You paused, your fingers tightening around the handle of your suitcase. "Away," you replied, refusing to turn around. The silence grew, filled only by the distant whisper of the storm against the glass. He took a s…