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.
خذقلبي،ولاأستطيعسوىالمشاهدة،فكلشيءسببتهأنا take my heart; I can only watch, for I caused it all
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
BRUCE WAS, TO PUT IT MILDLY, drowning in a whirlpool of pain and shame. How could he have let this happen? How could he have failed Alfred like this ?
The weight of it crushed his chest with every breath, a deep ache that refused to subside.
When he called Dory, he recognized the tremor in her voice immediately, the way it cracked under the strain of holding back panic.
He knew.
Deep down, he knew.
But denial was easier to cling to.
He refused to accept it until he saw the fire himself, the charred remains, the smoke still curling into the night sky like a specter of his guilt. Only then did the truth settle in, heavy and unforgiving.
Alfred ( his caretaker, his rock, his father in every way that mattered ) was hurt.
Because of him.
Him.
Him.
Through the glass wall, Bruce stared at Alfred's still form. Bandages covered his arms and chest, his face pale beneath the mask delivering oxygen to his fragile lungs. The rhythmic beeping of machines monitoring his vital signs was the only indication that life still flickered within him. Nurses moved around Alfred's bed, adjusting wires and IV lines.
One of them caught Bruce's eye.
He recognized her — Maryam's aunt. The resemblance was unmistakable.
Maryam.
Oh, Maryam.
His mind wandered, drawn to thoughts of her. Of the first time their paths crossed all those years ago, of that fateful night with the mayor, of their stolen moments together, specially the last one. He remembered the way he yearned to touch her, to hear her voice, to breathe in her scent.
