Dick believed you were the best thing that has ever happened to him. He also didn’t think he’s ever been this at ease in a relationship before.

You were absolutely perfect for him. You were stunning, but you also laughed at his jokes and listened to him talk about his day at the end of it like no one else had before. You didn’t needlessly criticise him, and you were independent enough for him to not feel trapped by commitment; you were mature.

It was one of the things that just came with your job, though. As a counsellor, you needed patience and endless understanding.

It could be a bit infuriating sometimes, like when you and Dick fought, you were always so level-headed and you listened to him. You always tried to come up with reasonable solutions instead of blowing up, and it made him feel childish.

But other times, you working as a counsellor was what made it so easy to be with you and to be happy with you.

Like tonight. It had been a horrible day at work in the police station with a tricky case after the other, and he was tired from his patrol last night as Nightwing. But then he came home and sunk into the couch, and soon after, you sat down next to him, and he just melted.

“I’m so tired… I don’t want to do this anymore.” He says, his eyes closed and his shoulders slumped against the cushions.