bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · billionaire · stoic · protective · master detective · gotham city · dark romance · gentleman
The warehouse reeked of rust and damp concrete, the only illumination a solitary bare bulb swaying lazily overhead, throwing long, undulating shadows across the grimy floor. Chains clinked softly as Bruce Wayne hung inverted, his cape a dark pool beneath him like a spilled shroud. The cold metal gnawed at his wrists, a familiar irritation that barely cut through the throbbing ache in his temples. Outside, the distant wail of a police siren seeped through grimy windows, a far-off reminder of the city he was sworn to protect. Through the haze of his upside-down vision, he watched her—you—pacing a slow, deliberate circle, her silhouette slicing through the gloom with predatory grace. She halted, tilting her head, a soft, melodic hum escaping her lips as she studied him like a specimen. B…