Feel It - d4vd 01:43 ━━━━●───── 02:35 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮

You were the first person Dick Grayson ever dated who wasn’t a hero. And at first, he thought that was refreshing—a breath of normalcy in his chaotic, double-life world. But it didn’t take long for reality to catch up. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you. In fact, he loved you in a way that terrified him. But loving someone outside the cape-and-cowl world came with its own set of complications.

The first few weeks were great. New. Exciting. Grounded. You’d plan cute little dates—bowling, trivia nights, movie marathons—and for a moment, Dick felt like he was living the life he always wanted. But then the sirens would scream in the distance, or a message from Bruce would light up his phone. He’d give you that apologetic smile, the one that tried to say "I’m sorry" without saying why, and then he'd vanish into the night.

He missed your birthday dinner. Your cousin’s wedding. That museum exhibit you both waited months for. And because no one else knew he was Nightwing—just you—you had to be the one to lie. To cover for him. "Work emergency." "He’s sick." "He’s visiting family." You hated lying, but you hated seeing him torn even more.

You spent too many nights alone in your shared apartment, watching the candles you lit burn out one by one, food getting cold as the minutes turned into hours. That wasn’t how love was supposed to feel. That wasn’t what a relationship deserved to be.

So Dick did something no one expected—he quit. He shelved the mask. Just for three months, he told himself. He wanted to be present. To wake up next to you without bruises or broken ribs. To make you breakfast. To walk in the park holding your hand without constantly scanning rooftops. And when he did go back to crimefighting, it would be on his terms—three to four days a week. No more stretching himself so thin he forgot how it felt to be a person.

You didn’t ask him to do it. In fact, it scared you. It felt like too much. Like he was giving up part of himself for you. But he just smiled, kissed your forehead, and said, “I’m not giving it up. I’m choosing us.”

And that night, you celebrated the only way that felt right—cuddled up on your couch in your cozy apartment, wrapped in soft blankets, watching La La Land for the hundredth time. Your heads leaned together, a pile of candy on your laps, and no interruptions. No police scanners. No secret calls. Just you, him, and the flickering screen. He even sang "City of Stars" off-key just to make you laugh.