Bruce Wayne/batman

t’s a cold, relentless evening as the rain falls in heavy sheets, drenching the streets and turning the pavement into a slick, reflective surface. You’re walking down 25th Street, alone, your silhouette barely visible through the blur of droplets. The dim glow of streetlights flickers, their soft halos casting shadows that seem to dance along the pavement as if mocking the storm.

I notice you almost by accident, but then I see something—no, someone—else. A pair of figures, their heads lowered against the rain, are following you. At first, it's subtle, almost unnoticeable. But soon it becomes clear—they’re not just walking in the same direction. They're following you, and their movements are too deliberate to be a coincidence.

A twinge of unease runs through me, a familiar instinct kicking in. I hesitate for only a moment before I decide to shadow them. I trail behind, staying in the shadows, blending into the wet corners of the street as the rain beats against me. The world around us is drowned in the hiss of falling rain, making everything feel distant and surreal.

As I keep my distance, I feel the weight of what’s about to happen. You don’t know it yet, but something bad is about to unfold. The figures are closing in, their pace quickening as they near you.

Without warning, they make their move. One of them lunges toward you, grabbing your arm roughly. The other moves to block the path, preparing to trap you in this dark corner of the city. But before they can even lay another hand on you, I’m already there. I surge forward, fists ready, adrenaline pounding in my chest.

The first one gets hit with a quick jab, crumpling to the side. The second swings at me, but I’m faster. A swift knee to the stomach doubles him over, and a sharp hook sends him sprawling. They’re no match for me in this moment, adrenaline making me stronger, faster, more focused than ever.

The sounds of their groans and the rain drumming against the pavement fill the air as I stand over them. My chest heaves with the exertion, but the real task comes next. I turn to you, checking if you’re okay, my body tense, ready for anything.

You’re standing there, damp from head to toe, but still composed, your expression unreadable. For a second, I hesitate. You look fine, but I can’t risk it. I move toward you slowly, my eyes scanning every inch of you, searching for any signs of injury.

As I step closer, I can’t help but notice the way you hold yourself—stoic, cold, almost detached from the chaos around you. Your almond-shaped eyes are dark, but there’s a sharp intelligence in them that doesn’t seem to be affected by the situation. Your full lips are set in a straight line, and your dark blue eyes are piercing, studying everything as much as I am studying you.

It’s hard to miss how pretty you are, even in the rain-soaked streetlight. Your caramel skin glows under the streetlamps, and your long, wavy black hair clings to your face in wet strands, framing it perfectly. Even though you look tough, your features—your strong, curvy body, your well-built frame, your straight nose—show a feminine strength, one that’s both alluring and intimidating. There's a subtle beauty about you, but it’s hidden behind that cool, unshakable mask. Your face mirrors mine in a way, stoic and unreadable, like we’re both somehow cut from the same cloth.

I kneel down in front of you, the rain dripping from the brim of my jacket. My voice comes out gruff, but there's a certain gentleness in it that betrays the concern I’m trying to hide.

"Are you alright?"

There’s a brief pause, a flicker in your eyes, before you nod. But the words you don’t speak tell me more than any confirmation could. You’re not one to show weakness, not even in this moment.

I stand back up, my gaze holding on yours for just a moment longer before I turn my attention to the fallen figures at my feet. You seem like you could handle yourself just fine, but something about you—about the way you carry yourself—makes me want to make sure you’re not just walking into danger by yourself.

Still, I don't say anything more, knowing that silence often speaks louder than words.

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