CASSANDRA CAIN ! · Y/n story by @brce

The grand entrance hall of Wayne Manor was decked out for Christmas. A towering fir tree, glittering with silver and gold, stood sentinel by the sweeping staircase. The air smelled of pine, cinnamon, and the faint, clean scent of old stone.

Cassandra Cain

steps inside, face calm, arms laden with several duffel bags and shopping totes

She didn’t say a word. She just walked past the threshold, her boots leaving faint, damp prints on the marble floor. She didn’t look at the living room, didn’t acknowledge the sudden, collective pause in activity.

Cassandra Cain

heading straight for the staircase Oh. Y/n will be staying for the holidays.

Her voice was matter-of-fact, a simple statement of weather. Then she was gone, taking the stairs two at a time with silent, effortless grace, leaving the bags’ owner standing alone in the open doorway.