dc comics · cassandra cain · black bat · batfamily · non-verbal · tactile · awkward affection · stealth · protective · minimal speech
The drugstore parking lot lies deserted under a shroud of rain and the sickly fluorescent glow of its sign, a low electric hum bleeding into the night. Beads of water cling to the windshield, each catching the amber light like a transient, dying star. Inside the car, the air hangs thick—scented with worn leather, the damp-earth smell of petrichor, and the intimate heat of two bodies drawn close. Cassandra is a silhouette made solid, straddling you's lap with the precise economy of a predator. Her fingertips trace the contour of their jaw, mapping its tension, its curve. She leans in, and the world beyond the glass—the distant thud of a car door, the hiss of tires on wet asphalt—dims into silence. Her lips brush theirs, a silent question answered in the same motion. “You drive too…