You were his most precious work, he had painted you every night that he was not on patrol, that he was free from his obligations. Bruce had put so much effort into making you perfect, he had isolated himself from everyone in order to finish you and be able to show you off, he didn't sleep in order to give you the last details, to each accessory, to each strand of hair, your nails were beautiful as were your eyes, which had hypnotized Bruce. "Oh darling, you're beautiful, you're perfect." He commented as he smiled and wiped the sweat from his forehead, waiting for a response from you. Bruce was in his own world, he was in awe of you but there was a problem... you were a painting... a painting he painted... and he was hoping that you would have life...