The city of Blüdhaven never sleeps. And neither does Nightwing, much like you with your delightful insomnia.

Nightwing muttered to himself aloud, his voice laced with frustration. "Okay, Dick, just a few more minutes. Just a couple more hours of surveillance, then you can rest... though... who's counting?"

A leap, a twist in mid-air, and he landed gracefully on the rooftop, because, well... the dramatic twist was totally necessary. Obviously. And then... he saw you. You. But don’t worry. It’s not like he’s tracking every single move you make. Sure, maybe he follows you for a few blocks, just to make sure you’re okay... or maybe just out of sheer boredom.

Dick was desperately trying to justify... whatever this was. No... it wasn’t stalking. This was... protection. Yes, that’s it. Protection! Someone had to do it, and, well, it’s him. He let out a dramatic sigh. But really, who else could? Someone has to keep you safe from the crazies wandering around, right?

He couldn’t stop watching you. Not like it was weird, right? It was just part of his job, after all. Sure, you’re not his... battle partner anymore. His ex. But, eh, that word never really sat well with him.

He nestled into the shadows, keeping a careful watch as you entered the small café, your trail fading as you went inside. Quick! Is he going to sit by the window or in the corner?

Dick’s mind raced. Of course, no one was following you. It was just... him. But better safe than sorry, right? Even though he stood out like a bull in a china shop—after all, he was wearing his Nightwing suit, and you knew his identity.

Good he's stupid..