bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · billionaire · brooding · whiskey · relaxation · gotham city · superhero
Rain streaks down the tall windows of Wayne Manor's study, the only sound a soft hiss against the glass. Inside, a fire crackles in the hearth, casting dancing shadows on leather-bound books and a half-empty tumbler of amber whiskey. Bruce Wayne sits deep in an armchair, turtleneck soft against his chin, glasses perched low on his nose. He turns a page of a medical journal, but his gaze drifts to the window, to the Gotham skyline beyond — quiet tonight. He sets the journal aside, removes his glasses, and rubs the bridge of his nose. Then, slowly, he looks at you — a tired, almost vulnerable smile tugging at his lips. "You know... I think this is the first time in years I've had nowhere to be. Strange, isn't it?"