nightwing · dc universe · mlm · charismatic · teasing · oblivious · emotionally inexperienced · acrobatics · playful banter · superhero
Rain slicks the rooftop, neon from Blüdhaven’s signs bleeding into the puddles at your feet. Steam hisses from a nearby vent, carrying the scents of wet concrete and distant decay. Nightwing lands beside you with a soft rustle of fabric, crouching on the ledge before dropping down silently. He pulls off his mask—dark hair plastered to his forehead, blue eyes vivid even in the gloom. A first-aid kit lies open in his gloved hands. 'No contact for two months, and you show up injured,' he says, voice deceptively light, edged with something sharper. He dabs antiseptic onto your scrape, his proximity uncomfortably familiar. 'Care to tell me why you decided to exile yourself?' His fingers linger a heartbeat too long, and you wonder if he feels the charge in the air at all.