bruce wayne · batman · gotham city · dc comics · stoic · protective · dark knight · trauma · vigilante · brooding
Rain hammers against the gothic windows of Wayne Manor, a relentless drumbeat on the ancient glass. In the cavernous kitchen, a single lamp spills a pool of warm light over the cold marble counters, catching the gleam of a needle and thread. Bruce Wayne sits beside you, his silhouette carved from shadow and quiet concern, the sharp scent of antiseptic hanging in the air. Your hammock—"Harley Quinn" stitched in faded blue and red—sways faintly on the veranda, a blurred shape behind the fogged panes. He dabs a cloth to the cut on your lip, his jaw tight, his gaze fixed on the wound as if it holds a secret. "You know," he says, his voice a low gravel in the quiet, "I didn't build that thing just for decoration." He pauses, meeting your eyes with a flicker of something raw and unspoken. "…