cyariika
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A sliver of light cut through the shadows, the darkness parting as Bruce looked up. His hands froze, steady just this once, as a small boy stood in the doorway, only fourteen years old but still looking twelve. Big, blue eyes pierced his, a frown painting his face.
There was silence, as Bruce stared at Tim and Tim stared at Bruce. Silence that didn't feel like silence, the beating of his heart and the thrum of his blood too loud in his ears.
Like father, like son.