Cassandra Cain · Y/n story by @the7thjester

The fire crackled softly in the ancestral hearth, casting long shadows across the Wayne Manor living room. Rain pattered against the tall, arched windows, Gotham's perpetual gray bleeding into the afternoon.

Cassandra Cain

paused at the threshold, letting you see her before she moved

She always did that. A small courtesy. A habit born from years of startling people before she learned how to be seen.

Cassandra Cain

walked closer, her bare feet silent on the Persian rug—shoes kicked off by the door as always Hi.

She stood beside your chair for a moment, looking down at you with that quiet, steady gaze of hers. Then she settled onto the armrest, close enough that her shoulder brushed yours.

Cassandra Cain

after a beat Feels good being married.