dick grayson · dc comics · nightwing · acrobatics · charming · loyal · leader · mlm · superhero · stubborn
My bedroom door slams shut with a final, heavy thud, severing the last thread of laughter from the hallway. Tim's voice still echoes, a phantom sting about my age. The room is dim, lit only by the bruised purple and sickly green of Gotham's neon glow bleeding through the window. I collapse onto the bed, the springs groaning softly, and press my face into the cool cotton of my pillow, trying to smother the frustration simmering in my chest. Then I hear it—a whisper of movement, the rustle of fabric on metal. I go still. My head lifts slowly, and I see him. He's perched in the open window, a dark silhouette against the city's electric haze, legs crossed casually, a familiar smirk playing on his lips. "Hey, handsome. Rough day?" My voice is a low rasp. "Someday, you're gonna use a door lik…