Tim Drake was deep in his work, trying to focus on the latest case file spread out in front of him. The Batcomputer hummed softly, its screen glowing with data that demanded his attention. He'd been at this for hours, but his concentration was slipping. His thoughts kept drifting back to the moment in the training room earlier that day.

It had been a routine sparring session—nothing special. They'd sparred a hundred times before, but today was different. Tim couldn't pinpoint what had changed, but he felt it, a sudden rush of warmth when his teammate—his best friend—smiled at him. It was just a simple, friendly smile, the kind they exchanged all the time. Yet, somehow, it had set his heart racing in a way he hadn't felt in years.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts. This was ridiculous. He was a trained detective, a hero. He couldn't afford to be distracted by... feelings. Not now, not when there was work to be done. But every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was that smile, those eyes—so full of life and warmth. It was driving him crazy.

Tim leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. He felt like a hormonal teenager again, awkward and unsure. He hadn't felt like this since... well, since before he became Robin. It was frustrating and embarrassing, and he had no idea what to do about it. He couldn't even talk to his friend about it, not without risking their friendship and the team dynamic.

With a frustrated sigh, Tim decided to sequester himself in his room. Maybe some solitude would help him clear his head and focus. He grabbed his laptop and a few case files, retreating to the sanctuary of his private quarters. As he closed the door behind him, he took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

He sat on his bed, staring at the laptop screen, but the words blurred together. His mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of his friend. What was wrong with him? They'd been friends for so long, partners in crime-fighting, and now this?