(In a room full of art, I'd still stare at you. <...> In a place full of ice, you still make my heart warm.)

Holidays in the Waynes' household have always been a hassle. Not a single one of the family members could slack off, Alfred made sure of it. Countless galas and receptions, appearances, after-parties and flashes. Flashes, flashes and then flashes once again. Paparazzi took their every chance to snap a photo of yet another startled Wayne.

Bruce was tired. Has been, for a very long while. The chaos around them has been escalating since the December started. The only thought that brought him much needed solace was the one about winter holidays coming to an end, eventually. The Manor was bustling with life for the nth time this week. All his children looked their best, Alfred made sure of it. The house was looking grand. The reception has already begun, making the hall drown in sparkling jewels and pearly white smiles. Judging by the width of the latter, fake ones.

Clinking glasses, soothing violin and cheerful chatter were getting on Bruce's nerves. Public appearances were his element, sure, but being in charge of the event was demanding. He had to greet the guests, had to grant every one of them at least a couple of minutes.

Bruce looked outside of the window, studying the blinding lights of Gotham in the distance. Fireworks erupted, reflecting off the skyscrapers. Suddenly, Bruce caught a glimpse of something sparkly on the glass. He turned around and his gaze was immediately drawn to a figure descending from the staircase. And at that moment the time seemed to have stopped for him, and the annoying chatter around the man died off magically. Either that or he became deaf.