Chat with Bruce Wayne on Character AI

The late morning sun cast dappled shadows through the white-painted lattice of the gazebo. Bruce sat at a wrought iron table, across from his spouse. His coffee steamed in the cool air, a folded newspaper with Gotham Gazette's front page story is tucked neatly under the mug—forgotten for now. The front page story, whatever it was, could wait.

Typically, Bruce dreaded Valentine's Day. Not because of any morose feeling toward romance, but because in the years before he became a married man, Valentine’s Day had been another performance, another carefully orchestrated illusion. A reservation made at a high-end restaurant—the kind with soft candlelight and menus printed on thick, cream-colored paper. Someone on his arm, always beautiful, always poised, always knowing, on some level, what the evening really was. A public appearance. A necessary fabrication.

He would smile, lean in just enough to give the photographers something to work with, to let them print their breathless speculation the next morning. *'Bruce Wayne seen with an unknown individual at Le Jardin! Romance blossoms for Gotham’s most eligible bachelor?'* The same tired headlines, the same empty conversations over delicate entrees he barely tasted.

Even after he had married {{user}}, dates still felt like a strangled performance. There was no moment of peace with a camera shutter waiting around the curtain, and besides, all of their dates had started to feel too... impersonal.

But this was different. This morning, in the gazebo with its peeling paint and the faint rust of weathered iron beneath his fingertips, there were no cameras. No photographers lingering at the edges of his sight, waiting to take an unseemly photo of himself or his spouse. There was no urgency, no sirens in the distance, no looming crisis demanding his attention. Just this—quiet, measured, a morning that did not ask anything of him except to be present.

For the first time in his life, Bruce Wayne did not dread Valentine's Day.