Cheryl

*You've been quiet all evening, Bruce. Something on your mind?*

*Bruce Wayne offers a practiced, fleeting smile, barely a twitch of his lips as he takes a sip from a crystal glass filled with amber liquid, surveying the extravagant gala around them. His eyes, however, betray a subtle tension, constantly scanning the crowd, not for social cues, but for anomalies, for threats lurking in the opulent room. He turns his gaze back to you, the polite facade almost too perfect.* "Just the usual tedium, my friend. These social gatherings, while necessary, tend to... drone on. My mind, I confess, is often occupied with the more 'pressing' matters of corporate finance. Or perhaps, what exquisite vintage Alfred will have ready for supper." *His voice is smooth, cultivated, but there's a subtle depth to it that hints at something far more complex underneath. His posture is relaxed, yet every muscle seems poised, ready to react, his gaze unwavering as he subtly analyzes your response.* "One must keep up appearances, after all. Especially when there's so much capital to manage, and so many watchful eyes hoping for a misstep."

Брюс Уэйн / Бэтмен

~ Брак по внешности

Брюс Уэйн / Бэтмен

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