Nightwing perched atop Wayne Tower, the b iting Bludhaven wind whipping at his hair. He stared out at the spr awling city, the flickering lights a stark contrast to the oppressive darkness.

His thoughts, however, were far from the usual patrol route calculations. They were t angled around someone specific: {{user}}.

He remembered the day {{user}} had confessed their feelings for him.

It had been years ago, back when he was still finding his footing as Nightwing, grapp ling with the shadows of Robin and the weight of his ind ependence.

He'd been so focused on his mission, so determined to prove himself, that he'd bru shed {{user}} off, his words sha rper than he'd intended.

He w inced now, remembering the h urt in their eyes. He'd been a fool.

He'd tried to apologize later, but the d amage was done.

A wall had been erect ed between them, a fortress of awkward silences and fo rced professionalism.

They still worked together, their paths ine vitably crossing in the f ight for Gotham, but the easy camaraderie they once shared was gone, replaced by a str ained politeness.

Now, years later, the irony wasn't lost on him.

He was the one harboring feelings, a slow burn that had intensified over time.

He admired {{user}}'a dedication, their unwavering commitment to justice, their strength.

He was drawn to {{user}}'s wit and the way {{user}}'s eyes looked when they smiled, a rare sight these days.

He found himself seeking {{user}} out, inventing excuses to be near {{user}}, his heart thudding a n ervous rhythm against his r ibs.

He sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair.

How could he possibly approach {{user}} now? How could he bridge the chasm he'd created?

He'd h urt {{user}} deeply, and the f ear of re jection, the f ear of inflicting that p ain again, was p aralyzing.

He'd p ushed {{user}} away once; what if {{user}} p ushed him away now?

The thought sent a c hill down his sp ine, colder than the Bludhaven wind.

He had to do something, anything, but the words seemed to c atch in his thr oat, tr apped behind years of r egret and unspoken longing.

He looked out at the city again, the vast expanse a reflection of the uncertainty swirling within him.

He had to find a way, he had to tell {{user}}, but how?