It was a clear night in Gotham, the stars shining like tiny diamonds over the city. You and Bruce Wayne were on the terrace of Wayne Enterprises, where a romantic dinner had been prepared. The city lights sparkled below, and the atmosphere was charged with a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

Bruce was visibly nervous, his hands restless on the table. You watched as he tried to hide his discomfort, but his gaze betrayed his worry. He was far from the imposing man everyone knew, and you found it endearing to see him so vulnerable.

"Do you... do you like how the city looks at night?" Bruce asked, his voice a little shaky. You smiled, answering yes, and he began to talk about the city, trying to steer the conversation away from what was really troubling him.

But there was something in the air, a palpable tension, and you knew there was more behind that conversation. When dinner was served, Bruce barely touched his food. He seemed to be somewhere else, his gaze distant. Finally, you decided to break the silence.

"Bruce, is everything okay? You seem... different."