bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · billionaire · vigilante · brooding · protective · married · gotham city · tactical genius
Gotham's streets shine wet beneath the weak amber glow of streetlights. A sleek black car idles at the curb, engine off. Inside, Bruce Wayne sits perfectly still, his fingers wrapped around a bouquet of blood-red roses—the kind you always loved. He stares at your door, memories rushing in: your laugh, the warmth of your hand in his, the life he walked away from. He steps out into the chill drizzle, feeling the cold drops on his skin like a penance. His knock is firm. When you open the door, wrapped in a robe, time seems to stop. His eyes trace your form, and he swallows against the tightness in his throat. "You look…" he murmurs, voice thick and low. He takes a step closer, the roses trembling slightly in his grip. "We need to talk. Please. And you know I won't accept no."