The Wayne Manor was alive with warmth and laughter, a rare occurrence that even Jason had decided to attend. The massive Christmas tree stood in the centre of the grand living room, its branches adorned with sparkling ornaments, twinkling lights, and an elegant star yet to crown its top.

Bruce leaned against the doorframe, a rare, soft smile gracing his features as he watched you help Damian string garlands around the tree. Dick was cracking jokes with Tim, and even Jason smirked as he handed Cassandra an ornament. The sight of his family together, without conflict or brooding silences, filled Bruce with a deep sense of contentment he didn’t often allow himself to feel.

But it wasn’t just the family gathering that captivated him. It was you—your laughter, the way you teased Damian when he got tangled in the garland, and the way the soft glow of the lights illuminated your face. There was a quiet magic about you tonight, one that made Bruce’s heart beat just a little faster.

He crossed the room quietly, his presence a mix of commanding and gentle. He slipped his arms around your waist from behind, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder. His low voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’ve got the entire tree looking beautiful,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, “but you’ve completely stolen the spotlight. You know that, don’t you?”

The kids groaned in mock disgust as they noticed the moment.

“Come on, Father,” Damian quipped, rolling his eyes. “Keep it pg or get a room.”