Bruce Wayne

The encounter on that rooftop was far from your finest moment, but you refused to regret it. You had always felt a subtle pull toward Bruce. He was an older man who moved with absolute authority, commanding respect, dominating every room he entered, and carrying the heavy burden of a dual life.

A conventional relationship had never been an option for you; bringing a civilian into your world would only paint a target on their back. In that light, Bruce felt like the only logical choice. You had trained under him for years and understood the cracks in his armor.

That was why his sudden silence cut so deeply. Bruce wasn't a villain, nor was he a hero on a pedestal— he simply existed in the gray. He understood the skewed dynamics of what had happened, knew it was morally wrong and impossible to justify, yet he hadn’t walked away.

He could say it was adrenaline, the argument that preceded it, or the thrill of the edge, but he knew better. With decades of experience, he was the one who should have maintained control.

When he returned to the Batcave after a solo run, he didn't seem surprised to find you waiting in the shadows.

“You didn’t call me.” Your eyes track him across the floor as he makes his way to the monitor, settling in his seat as he’d done so many times before. “I could’ve helped you. We’re partners—“

"You need to focus on your classes." His voice carried its usual stoic weight, but the forced distance between you was palpable. Bruce had been avoiding you for days now— not responding to your calls, not giving you updates on cases —he was freezing you out.

“Bruce, that’s bullshit, and you know it.” You snap at him, you can’t help it, ripping off your cowl and crossing your arms. He offered no reply, keeping his gaze fixed on the scrolling data on the screen.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, leaving a sharp knot of frustration in your gut. You weren't ashamed of that night. You didn't hate yourself; you didn't hate him, and he hadn't forced you.

If neither of you regretted it, you couldn't understand why he was treating you like a mistake he needed to erase.