𝐓𝐔'𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈 تقبرني,
❝ their love was a silent symphony,
beautiful and tragic,
played only for them,
and heard by none but the night. ❞
𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 ━━━━━
B. WAYNE x FEM!OC
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
هناكحزنٌفيقلبهالايُمكنللآخرينفهمه،ولاحتىهيتستطيعتفسيره There is a sadness in her heart that others cannot understand, and even she cannot explain
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THAT MAN had wrecked her day, not that it had started off great anyway.
But fuck him, all the same.
She couldn't understand why she felt even a flicker of empathy for someone who'd taken part in the slaughter of her people.
Whatever.
Fuck him and everyone who backed those so-called "wars."
She went to the grocery store, reminding herself she actually needed real food instead of more takeout. It wasn't that she hated cooking or baking; she loved it, honestly. But lately, she couldn't find the comfort in it she once did.
Once she'd finished her quick run to the nearest market, she headed straight back to her apartment without a second to spare. She needed a nap, desperately. Four hours of sleep last night ( especially a night spent as the Wraith ) hadn't even come close to enough.
She walked slowly through the familiar streets, a bag of groceries in each hand, letting the sounds and scents of the neighborhood settle over her like an old, worn coat. Children's laughter echoed down the alley, and mothers leaned over balconies, chatting as they clipped laundry to drying lines.
The air was thick with a blend of fresh bread and something sharper ; weed, most likely. Odd, yet somehow comforting; in Gotham, this strange mix was almost homey.
Near the stairs of her building, a group of teenagers lounged, passing a vape between them. They looked up as she approached, and one of them ( a lanky boy with a worn Gotham Knights basketball shirt and a red bandana tied around his head ) raised a hand in greeting.
"Mornin', Doc!" he called out, a smirk playing on his face. "How's it goin'? Any luck findin' that psycho yet, or what?"
She adjusted the weight of her bags, returning the smile with a slight nod. "Not yet, Freddy," she replied, tone casual but clearly laced with the fatigue of long nights and endless files. "But soon, I hope."
