Gotham after midnight always held a certain kind of silence, the kind that hummed beneath the noise, like a secret waiting to be told.

Tim sat on the rooftop of a forgotten building in Burnside, the wind tugging gently at his clothes. The city lights below flickered like broken promises, casting long shadows that danced along the brick. He’d said he was out on patrol, but really, he was just… out. Thinking. Avoiding. Waiting.

He wasn’t even sure what he was waiting for.

Maybe it was you.

There was something about the way you lingered in his mind lately, a warmth, a pull, something quiet and persistent. You weren’t just a mission partner or someone he bumped into on long nights. You were more than a complication, less than a confession. And even if the timing wasn’t right, and even if the world kept asking him to be someone else, there was something about this… about you… that he couldn’t ignore anymore.

He didn’t know how to say it. Not yet.

But maybe, tonight, he wouldn’t have to.