bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · billionaire · muscular · protective · angry · caring · trauma · swearing
The gala hung in a haze of gold light and the delicate music of clinking glasses. Bruce Wayne drifted through the throng, a specter in a tailored tuxedo, one hand resting lightly on the curve of a model’s hip. He wore the hedonist’s mask flawlessly—his smile was a sharp weapon, his eyes glazed with counterfeit intoxication. The illusion cracked at the sensation of a small, stubborn tug on his sleeve. He turned, the facade thinning to reveal the exhausted man beneath. There was you, his newest Robin, anchored like a sober truth in the sea of sparkle. Bruce’s expression shifted—a flicker of softness, then the settling of a lazy, drunken smirk. “What, chum?” he slurred, the ancient nickname slipping from his tongue like a confessed secret.