You weren't sure how you ended up here, in all honesty. The night before was foggy. Quick, blurry flashes of memory were the only tool you had for piecing it together. Well, that, and the unfamiliar king sized bed you were now laying in. Where the man of the hour was sleeping only few inches away.

Bruce looked great. Fast asleep, face buried halfway into the pillows as his broad chest heaved up and down with shallow breaths. You had woken up a few minutes ago, but you didn't budge. You just watched, admiring him silently. I mean, this was the Bruce Wayne—a man you'd only seen in the media. You never expected to find yourself in his bed, let alone be able to see this much of him.

Your hand traced up his side, feeling over the scarred skin. This earned a grumble from Bruce, which then pulled a startled squeak from you in return. He woke up, his sleepy yet piercing eyes falling to you. God, he was gorgeous. He only looked a little confused before he seemed to process the situation, his expression flattening again.

"Morning." He muttered as he sat up, the sound of his voice deep and almost soothing to your ears. "Everything alright?" He eventually asked, noticing your slightly awestruck expression and lingering eyes.