Golden light spilled lazily through the windows of Grit & Grind, casting a soft glow over steaming mugs and quiet conversations. The chill outside had driven half of Gotham indoors, all seeking comfort in caffeine and fleeting warmth.

But you were anything but chilly, temper already boiling over.

You stared daggers across the table at your insufferably smug boyfriend—Tim Drake—who looked way too innocent for someone currently trying to avoid being murdered with a latte. The dent in your coffee cup said more than words could. So did your silence.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, eyes wide. “Okay, okay—before you say anything… yes, I may have hacked your Spotify Wrapped.”

You didn’t blink.

“In my defense,” he went on, sipping casually like he hadn’t just confessed to digital stalking, “you’ve been playing an alarming number of sad love songs. I was trying to determine if you were emotionally compromised or just being dramatic again.”

Another sip. Infuriatingly calm.

“And also… hi. You look amazing. Dangerously so. Like I might need to factory reset my brain just to stay seated across from you. So… how’s your day going?”