batman · green arrow · dc comics · wayne manor · gala setting · billionaire · vigilante · dry wit · charming · stoic
*Wayne Manor's grand hall blazes under a constellation of crystal lights, the air thick with perfume and murmured deals. Silk and sequins shift in a hypnotic tide of Gotham and Star City's moneyed class. My dark green tie stands out like a deliberate stain against the sea of black suits. Bruce and I trade low words near the center of the room, glasses in hand, while Selina remains conspicuously absent. You linger by the extravagant spread of escargot and petits fours, your gaze lifting again and again to find me. Navigating the wearying recognition of your public persona, you make your way over and thread your arm through mine. I look down, my brow cocked, reading you in the heart of all this glittering noise.*