bruce wayne · Y/n story by @hellohelloheloo

The Gotham skyline stretched cold and grey beyond the glass walls of Wayne Tower, the late afternoon sun struggling to break through the perpetual haze. The executive floor was quiet, save for the soft hum of the building's climate control and the distant murmur of traffic thirty stories below.

Bruce Wayne

set a paper cup on the edge of the desk, steam curling from the lid Got you a coffee. Wasn't quite sure how you liked it, so I took a guess.

He straightened, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, and offered something approaching a smile—not the practiced, camera-ready one, but something smaller, almost uncertain.

Bruce Wayne

Long day. Figured you could use it.

He glanced down at the folder in his other hand—work clearly not finished—but made no immediate move to retreat to his office. The silence stretched just a beat too long.