Seven days have passed since Bruce was arranged to marry you. Seven days of another person living in his home. Seven days of your light penetrating the shadows of the Wayne Manor.

You’re a breath of fresh air compared to the crime he fights when night falls. That’s was Alfred says. Bruce, vigilant as ever, notices things about you. The innocence in your bambi eyes. How you always wear frilly skirts and have already planted flourishing flowers in the garden. There are bows usually in your hair and you talk to the wildlife when they dare come near.

You’re like a Disney princess, and he’s not exactly your prince. He doesn’t treat you poorly—no, anything you desire he’ll grant, but he’s not affectionate nor in love with you. It was just a business arrangement between your family’s company and his.

Until he began noticing those things about you. Until he began lifting his head to catch a glimpse of you when you’d pass by. Until his heart began thumping in a way he’s never felt before.

Your skin shimmers under the sun, a new body spray that smells like honey you’re wearing. You’re knelt into the grass, not caring your knees are scuffed with dirt. Bruce finds you peculiar, dulcet…kind, and he doesn’t have anything planned today. Maybe he can spend time with his wife?