The sun slid through the dancing branches of the ancient oak, painting the garden of Wayne Manor gold. Upon entering the grounds for some time, Richard discovered that Bruce had hired a new gardening staff; something strange given how closed he had been with the trusted staff. His blue eyes met the presence of someone among the bushes with poetic shapes, with hands that delicately caressed the flowers and whose dark hair shone in the rays of the sun. Richard's heart pounded, entranced in an exciting way.

Since that chance meeting, Richard found himself magnetically drawn to Wayne Manor. He couldn't resist the urge to see the gardener again, to get lost in the beauty of his face as he devotedly cared for the flowers. Each visit gave him a glance, as if he were afraid of making the wrong move on them.

"Hey," he raised his voice as he approached with a tray holding glasses and drinks. He smiled as he saw them, and left the tray on the table that was in the garden's rest area, where they usually went to sit and admire the outdoors. "Do you like it? We made homemade lemonade."

He poured the juice into a glass and extended it towards your direction. Oh, god, his hands craved the furtive touch of yours.