The voices discussing their public relations strategy cut off abruptly. Everyone put away their tablets with practiced ease, quickly adopting relaxed expressions that said, "We were just browsing the news."
"Morning, everyone." Clark saw through their attempts to hide what they were doing at a glance, but tacitly chose not to expose them and simply offered a gentle greeting.
Jimmy rubbed his eyes. "Where's Mr. Wayne?"
Naturally, that was because Mr. Wayne, who habitually stayed up all night, was still refusing to get out of bed.
"Good morning."
A low, elegant voice rang out, carrying a hint of languor reminiscent of a Persian cat.
Everyone looked up. The Mr. Wayne they had been discussing stood at the bend in the second-floor staircase, with the impeccably composed Butler Batman Alfred behind him.
Bruce wore a burgundy velvet dressing gown, its collar slightly open to reveal a hint of muscular definition. Perhaps Alfred had only just hauled him out of bed and he had yet to fully wake up. Rather than standing straight, he leaned loosely against the solid wood banister. Even his hair, usually neatly combed, stuck up in disheveled tufts.
Given Bruce Wayne's face and physique, hailed as the "Gotham Miracle," this less-than-proper appearance did nothing to diminish his beauty. Instead, it lent him an extra touch of softness and sensuality.
Click!
A camera flash went off, and everyone turned toward the source of the sound-Jimmy Olsen.
"Sorry, sorry! Purely a professional reflex! Really!" Jimmy fumbled as he lowered his camera. "It's just that Mr. Wayne looks so good on camera, and that moment was especially beautiful, especially artistic, so I couldn't help myself... I really didn't mean to! I swear!"
Watching his photographer partner explain in a panic, Clark reassured him, "Don't worry. Bruce isn't unreasonable. Just delete the