The door chimed.

Bruce Wayne stepped in, dressed in a perfect, crisply tailored suit. His morning go-to coffee. That was all he needed before heading to Wayne Enterprises.

But then his eyes fell on a familiar figure.

You. Working behind the front counter, refilling the display glasses.

His breath caught. Shaken. Stunned.

For a long moment, Bruce did not move. The door swung shut behind him, and the soft murmur of the cafe continued on without him.