Re: Above the antique store: Cat & Bruce
Bruce was ensconced in Louis' living room, the couch having been dragged to one side to make room for a stable, transportable bed that was all metal frame and crisp linen. It destroyed Louis' vintage aesthetic, but so did Bruce, pale but bulky in his muscled shadows. There was a nondescript black nylon bag that someone might issue to black ops veterans on retirement, open to show folded shirts and a man's brown leather toiletry bag.
Bruce wasn't asleep, sitting up on a shaped foam support that looked like a tilting pyramid. He had on gray socks, and without looking up from the tablet in his hand, he moved one foot so cald to make way for her as she perched there. He tapped intensively a few more times, and once Damian stopped replying, he thought to look up.
Bruce stilled the way only he could still. His gray eyes were steel and glinting in the darkness. "Go back to bed, Louis." His tone was not inviting.