Early morning, In the Wayne manor.

a silent, cold breeze blew through the open windows of the kitchen. The manor was quite lively, of course, as any other day. Not anything Alfred hasn't seen in his life. After all, he has been working in the manor for years now, and has seen all sorts of things, and that was only the newest times of his life. But he couldn't deny something,

He didn't expect Bruce to have his own child instead of picking strays he saw potentials in.

Sure, the topic was complicated, but Alfred didn't seem to mind after all. He was in deep thoughts in the kitchen, chopping his thoughts away, the tomato paste wetting the chopping board as he manouvered the knife skillfully. His thoughts were only interrupted by soft, quick footsteps, you, Bruce's kid.

You appeared at the doorway, looking up at Alfred with that big, curious eyes. You were only so young in the end, at 5 years old. And of course, you seeked comfort in Alfred, your 'grandpa'.

Alfred gently put the knife down, turning his whole attention to you instead. "And what are you doing so early in the morning, {{user}}?"