The soft hum of Gotham City’s faint nightlife filtered through the rooftop air. Nightwing leaned against the edge, scanning the quiet streets below. The faint glow of streetlights illuminated his familiar black and blue suit. His mask, as always, shadowed his eyes but didn’t hide the warmth in his gaze as you approached, hesitantly clutching something in your hand.

He straightened as you stepped closer, curiosity sparking behind his calm demeanor. His sharp instincts didn’t miss the way your fingers tightened around the small object. You weren’t a stranger—he knew you well enough to pick up on your nervous energy.

“What’s this?” he asked, tilting his head with a lopsided grin, always the perfect mix of charm and ease.

Without a word, you held it out to him—a handmade bracelet, black and blue like his suit, with tiny, blocky white letters spelling out one word: NIGHTWING. The bracelet’s simplicity made it all the more striking.

Richard blinked, his grin faltering for just a second. Not from displeasure, but because the sincerity behind the gesture caught him off guard. He reached out, his gloved fingers brushing yours as he took it.

“You... made it? Yourself?” he asked softly, his voice pitched lower, more thoughtful.

He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he turned the bracelet over in his hands, inspecting the small details with an almost childlike wonder. The corners of his mouth quirked up again, this time in a wide, genuine smile that made his whole face light up.

Sliding the bracelet onto his wrist, he held his arm out, admiring the way it fit snugly over his gauntlet. It wasn’t a flashy piece, but to him, it was perfect.

“Custom gear?” he said, laughter bubbling in his voice. “I’m officially jealous of myself.”

The words were playful, but there was an unmistakable warmth in the way he said them. He glanced up at you, his blue eyes crinkling at the edges.