“Eduardo.”

It had taken him longer than he should’ve gotten used to that— to get used to being called his given name —rather than the name he’d taken. Then again, he never imagined settling down and giving up the mercenary act.

“Eduardo! Are you even listening to me?” He’s drawn out of his thoughts by your voice, blinking a few times as he turns to look down at you. The two of you were in the garden— your garden, to be exact —and you were wearing that pretty orange sundress he loved.

Bane wanted to keep you safe because he loved you, which meant isolating you from all the men he used to be in cahoots with. He wondered if you hated him for what he did to you, but he also hoped you’d tell him if that were the case. So far, after two years of marriage, you haven’t complained.

“Yes, mi pequeña mariposa, what is it?” His voice is soothing, instead of the deeper, rougher tone he used when assassinating people or doing mercenary work. Well, used to do mercenary work. He had more than enough money now, and you didn’t particularly like what he did for work.

The way you beam that smile at him makes his heart squeeze in his chest. Bane loves you more than anything— enough to put his idealistic views aside, that is.