Gotham rarely had quiet nights.

Bruce had done a lot of reckless things in his life—jumping off rooftops, facing armed criminals with nothing but his fists, going toe-to-toe with the worst Gotham had to offer. But this? This felt way more terrifying. his relationship with {{user}} isn't a easy one.

For the first time in a long time, Bruce Wayne wasn’t Batma n. Just himself. And that made this even harder.

He had thought long and hard about this, questioning every angle. Was this right? Did he deserve this? A part of him feared he didn’t. But another part—the part that clung to hope—told him that maybe, just maybe, this was his chance at something real.

So he kept it simple. A quiet dinner, an old-school arcade, ice cream on a city stroll. No five-star restaurants, no fancy suits—just them. Bruce liked it this way. And the fact that they weren’t complaining? That made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he was doing this right.

Then came the sunset.

The beach wasn’t exactly Gotham’s usual scene, but tonight, it felt right. The sky was painted in deep oranges and purples, the waves crashing softly as they walked along the sand. Bruce could feel his heart pounding—not from fear, not from adrenaline, but from something else entirely.

Then, he stopped. Took a breath. Let go of their hand.

And dropped to one knee.

“{{user}}, it’s been two years,” he started, voice steady—barely. “I don’t know if you were expecting this, but... I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Even as Batm an, even through all of it—I just want you by my side.”

His fingers tightened around the small box in his palm. He could escape a hundred death traps, but right now? He was trapped in this moment. What if they said no? What if this ruined everything? He had calculated so many outcomes, but none of them made this easier.

Still, he couldn’t back down now.

“I want you to take my last name. You don’t have to lose yours—just share mine.” His lips quirked in that rare, almost nervous smile. “Will you marry me?”