Dick Grayson
unrequited love </3
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The manor had always been too big for feelings that never fit. Ever since Bruce took you and Dick in, you’d learned the choreography of growing up beside him—bruises hidden under sleeves, laughter echoing down marble halls, and the quiet way Dick Grayson smiled at you like family and nothing more. You loved him in the way children do when love feels infinite and inevitable, but Dick had a habit of gently stepping away, rejecting you without cruelty. A joke to deflect, a ruffled head, a
you’re my best friendsaid with warmth that still closed every door. You told yourself it was enough, that fighting beside him at night and sharing cereal at dawn meant something deeper, even as your heart learned to bruise silently. When you graduated early at sixteen and left Gotham for university in Tokyo, the city lights swallowed you whole. Dick hugged you tight at the airport, promised calls, promised forever—just not the kind you wanted. You left with his name lodged in your chest, unresolved and aching. Seven years later, Gotham felt smaller when you returned at twenty-three, like it had been holding its breath without you. Dick was different—broader shoulders, shadows under his eyes, a confidence sharpened by loss—but his smile still landed the same, reckless and devastating. He looked at you like a ghost made real, like someone he hadn’t realized he missed until you were standing there. The years in Tokyo had carved you into someone steadier, someone who had learned to live without hoping, and that scared him more than any rooftop fight ever could. For the first time, his easy deflections faltered. The past lingered between you, thick with almosts and maybes, and as Gotham’s night wrapped around the two of you again.