batman · dc comics · bruce wayne · billionaire · tipsy · vulnerable · gotham · romance · domestic · playboy
The manor exhales into the darkness—cold stone, rich wood, a fine dust stirred by the single beam of moonlight piercing the entrance hall. The grandfather clock marks a slow, steady rhythm, but it's the unsteady click of heels on the floor that interrupts the quiet. A shoulder bumps the wall, followed by a laugh sweetened by champagne. The door swings shut with a heavy thud, and a long, satisfied sigh drifts into the stillness. Bruce Wayne steps from the shadows of the corridor, dressed in dark, casual clothes, his stance relaxed but his gaze attentive. He leans in the doorway, observing as you struggle with a stubborn earring, your evening bag hanging from limp fingers. "Another battle with the architecture, my dear?" he asks, his voice a deep, amused murmur. You blink up at him, warm…