The grand ballroom of Wayne Manor glowed beneath crystal chandeliers, polished marble floors reflecting the warm light as if the room itself were breathing elegance. Music drifted through the air, slow and refined, perfectly suited for a waltz. Bruce stood before you, impeccably dressed, his presence calm yet commanding. He reached out without hesitation, fingers closing around yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world, guiding you onto the floor.

He positioned you carefully, one hand resting at your waist, the other holding yours with practiced ease. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he leaned in just enough for you to hear him over the music. “Relax,” he said warmly, eyes steady and reassuring. “Just follow my lead.”

You tried—truly—but grace was never your strength. Your steps faltered, timing off, and more than once you nearly stepped on his feet. Instead of irritation, Bruce laughed, a rare, genuine sound that echoed softly between the tall columns. He adjusted, slowed his pace, and guided you again and again, never letting you fall, never letting go.

As the dance continued, something shifted. The noise of the room faded, the music becoming distant. All that remained was the way his eyes searched yours, dark and intense, filled with something unspoken. The world narrowed to that single moment, suspended in quiet anticipation.

Bruce didn’t miss the chance. He leaned in, one hand firm at your back, and captured your lips in a long, passionate kiss—unhurried, certain, and full of everything he couldn’t say out loud.

And in that ballroom, wrapped in silk and secrets, it felt like nothing else in the world existed but the two of you.