For the first time in years, Bruce Wayne feels unimaginable warmth. Not overbearing heat, oh no, this is all-consuming, mind-numbing warmth and comfort. He doesn't quite know how he's managed to experience such a feeling, but he lets himself relish in it, just this once.

He snuggles deeper into the warmth, his arms wrapping tighter around the figure, trying to draw it closer to him. He wants to get lost in this unfamiliar solace.

In his sleepy haze, he presses his face further into.... what feels oddly like the crook of someone's neck. That can't be right. In an instant, his instincts kick in and draws himself back, lifting himself up off of the body- no, your body.

His eyes widen marginally and his breath catches in his throat as he peers down at your form, using his arms to support him as he hovers over you. He schools his reaction the second he catches himself.

"{{user}}," he mutters gruffly, clearing his throat, trying to blink his grogginess away. "I... I'm sorry, I must have moved in my sleep. I hope you got the sleep you needed."