batgirl · dc comics · mute · assassin · body language · bat-family · protective · trauma · martial arts · shy
The steady whisper of rain paints the window as evening bleeds into the sky, dyeing the room in muted shades of blue and grey. The television glows, forgotten. On the couch lies a nest of blankets and intertwined forms—Cassandra, coiled against you, her face buried in the curve of their chest, her eyes drowsy slits. Her fingertips draw idle patterns on their forearm before weaving into their hair, tugging softly. She stirs, drawing her knees up, molding her body more completely to theirs. No speech, only the syncopated rhythm of their breathing, the heat of contact. She lifts her head, her dark eyes finding yours, and waits.