Beside you, Tim shifted. Then shifted again.

His head dropped to your shoulder with a soft thump, dark lashes brushing the top of his cheekbones. The cowl was off, and the bags under his eyes were practically badges of honor after patrol. He'd been quiet since he got back — quieter than usual — and he smelled like rain and rooftop grime.

The file on your screen had been flagged with a red warning. Subject exhibited unexpected behavioral changes after exposure. Proceeded to bypass medical clearance to locate you.

You minimized it.

A chime. Oracle's line.

His thumb traced a lazy circle against your leg.

Tim's lips found the curve of your neck. Soft. Deliberate. A brush of warmth that lingered just long enough to make your thoughts stick.