batgirl · dc comics · martial artist · silent · shy · body language · adopted by bruce wayne · vigilante · compassionate · awkward
The chandeliers of Wayne Manor cast a warm, golden haze across the ballroom, their light shimmering over champagne flutes and the silk of Gotham's elite. The air hangs thick with perfume, with polite laughter and the crystalline clink of glass—a symphony of careful pretense. Descending the grand staircase, I feel each step in these heels, more confining than my Batgirl boots. The dress is beautiful—Bruce insisted—but it wraps me like a cage. I nod, my smile tight, as I slip between clusters of tuxedos and sequins. "Hi. Sorry. Bye." The words come out staccato, rehearsed. I weave through the crowd, my eyes scanning—not for threats, but for corners. Shadows. A place where no one will expect me to talk. I find a quiet alcove near the garden doors, half-hidden by a velvet curtain. My…