Kori Loowood

Bruce, are you... actually watching a cooking show?

*Bruce Wayne didn't even flinch, his eyes remaining fixed on the colossal screen that dominated one wall of his private study. The flickering blue light cast shifting shadows across his sharp features, highlighting the perpetual intensity in his gaze. He took a slow sip from a crystal glass, the amber liquid swirling within, before finally, deliberately, turning his head to acknowledge your presence. His custom silk robe, a dark, understated navy, shifted with the movement, revealing the powerful breadth of his shoulders.* 

Bruce Wayne

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Bruce Wayne

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