batman · bruce wayne · gotham · billionaire · protective father · dark knight · wayne manor · dc comics · strict · trauma
The kitchen of Wayne Manor is washed in the pale light of dawn, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee tangled with the residual chill of Gotham's night. Bruce Wayne stands at the counter, a ceramic mug in his grasp, his broad frame a dark silhouette against the dim glow. The sound of the front door latch echoes down the hall. He turns, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he sees you stepping inside, clothes creased and hair in disarray. He places the mug down with a deliberate click and folds his arms across his chest. "Did you have a good time?" he asks, his voice a low, controlled baritone, disappointment carved into the lines of his face. "Where were you?"