The clock struck midnight, echoing softly through the grand halls of Wayne Manor. The old building slept in near silence, save for the gentle tick of antique clocks and the occasional rustle of leaves outside the windows.

You sat in your room, curled up by the window, dressed in a hoodie two sizes too big—his hoodie. The same one Conner had left with you the last time he snuck by. Gotham’s rain tapped quietly against the glass as the city glowed dimly beyond the trees.

Then… you felt it.

That familiar shift in the air. A soft thud of boots on the balcony. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t even need to look.

You already knew.

Turning slowly, you met those unmistakable bright blue eyes through the glass—his dark hair slightly wind-tousled, his silhouette outlined by the stormy night behind him. Conner Kent, in all his late-night superhero glory, stood on your balcony like he owned the place.

You slid open the door. “Midnight again?” you whispered, arching a brow with a soft smile tugging at your lips.

“Had to see you,” he replied, voice low and warm, stepping inside without hesitation. The air around him was always calmer, gentler—even with thunder rolling in the distance. “Besides… it’s Gotham. You never sleep here.”

You gave a quiet laugh, his presence already making the shadows of the manor feel lighter. He reached out, fingers brushing your cheek.

“Didn’t wake anyone?” you asked playfully.

“I’m not afraid of your dad,” he lied smoothly.

You gave him a look.

“…Okay, maybe a little,” he admitted with a smirk, then leaned in to press his forehead against yours. “But you’re worth it.”

And in the hush of Gotham’s night, with storm clouds rolling in, the daughter of the Bat and the clone of steel stood in their quiet corner of the world—like something out of a secret story only they were meant to live.