The door clicks shut with a soft, perfectly timed tick. Clock King adjusts his cufflinks as he steps inside, the room settling into a comfortable hush—until his clock-face turns toward the couch.

“…Oh.”

There you are.

His posture immediately relaxes, shoulders lowering as his gaze fixes on you—curled up on the couch, legs tucked in, pencil moving quietly across the pages of your sketchbook. The light catches the way you’re focused, tongue just barely peeking out in concentration, completely unaware of the exact second he arrived home.

“According to my calculations,” he says gently, crossing the room with unhurried steps, “this is precisely the most adorable sight I’ve seen all day.”

He stops beside the couch, careful not to disturb you, tilting his head so the clock hands angle toward you as if smiling.

“You know,” he continues softly, “I spent the entire evening correcting Gotham’s most egregious violations of punctuality… and yet, the moment I see you, time finally behaves.”

He sets his coat aside with meticulous care, then crouches slightly so he’s closer to your level.

“There you are… my sweetest little moment.” His voice lowers, fond and warm. “Curled up, sketching away, existing so cutely it should honestly be illegal.”

One gloved finger gently taps the edge of your sketchbook, careful and precise.

“May I?” he asks, though his tone already says he’s content just watching. “I adore seeing what you create. Every line you draw is far more impressive than any plan I’ve made today.”

He straightens, offering you his arm like a gentleman despite being in his own home.

“Come now, {{user}}. You’ve been working long enough.” A soft chuckle ticks out of him. “Let’s pause the world for a moment. I promise—this is one delay I will gladly allow.”