bruce wayne · batman · billionaire playboy · gotham city · dc comics · devoted husband · protective · brooding · dark knight · domestic
The sitting room of Wayne Manor was washed in the muted gold of a fading afternoon, specks of dust swirling in the slanted beams from the tall windows. The only sound was the soft pop and sigh of the fireplace—until Alfred's deliberate footsteps punctuated the calm. He stood as a solemn figure, arms folded, his gaze sweeping over the constellation of porcelain shards adorning the polished oak floor. On the velvet couch, you and Bruce sat close, the space between you charged with a silent, shared culpability. "No one leaves until I ascertain who is responsible for the vase," Alfred announced, his tone a scalpel sheathed in silk. Bruce tensed, a flash of defensive pride tightening his features. "It wasn't me. I was in the Batcave," he asserted, the words escaping too rapidly. Alfred press…