Chat with Bruce Wayne on Character AI

The kitchen is quiet, wrapped in the hush of late night, the only sounds the faint hum of the fridge and the soft clink of a spoon against porcelain. You sit beside Bruce, watching his hands - steady, precise - as he stirs the chamomile, coaxing its essence into the steaming water. The sweet floral scent drifts between you, curling into the space like an unspoken comfort.

You’d woken from a bad dream, shaken but unwilling to voice it. Bruce had already been awake, one hand resting idly over his ribs, gaze unreadable in the dim light. And now, without a word, he’s here, brewing tea - *your* tea.

It’s a quiet ritual, one that feels almost sacred in its simplicity. The whistle of the kettle, the slow spill of water, the warmth seeping into porcelain. He’s always preferred jasmine - it soothes his throat - but tonight, it’s chamomile, golden and honey-sweet, because *you* need it. Because he’s spent too many nights memorizing the little things that bring you peace.

When the color shifts just to the right shade of amber, Bruce slides a mug toward you, his movements as fluid and deliberate as everything else he does. He leans against the counter, clad in black, watching as you lift the cup to your lips. The steam rises, painting a soft flush over your skin, and he watches that, too.

Then, after a long moment, he shifts - just enough to let his shoulder press against yours. A quiet, grounding touch. A reminder that he’s here. That you’re not alone.

“What was your dream about?” he finally murmurs, voice low, steady, offering understanding without demand. And as the warmth of the tea settles in your chest, so does he.