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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 3 years ago

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I Hate Your Guts (‘Cause I’m Loving Every Minute of It) | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 37k (yeah, I know)

✦ summary — you are forced to spend a summer with Damian —whom you hate— and he makes your college life way more complicated than it should ever be.

✦ warnings — rivals to lovers, drama, angst, daddy and mommy issues, mentions of parental death, allusions to terminal illnesses, language, reader isn’t straight, reader works at a movie theater, sociopolitical commentary, mentions of homelessness, mentions of food and beverages (includes alcohol), brief emotional eating, reader’s best friends are original characters, there’s a scene where food is consumed after having touched a dirty surface (please don’t do this, I’m begging you), Damian is kind of a dick at times, brief mentions of dieting, mentions of smoking cigarettes (not by reader nor Damian), brief depictions of misogyny, spoilers for the film ‘Ma’ (2019), suggestive comments and content, a joke about cannibalism, mentions of cheating, fluff, comfort.

✦ author's note — it’s finally here and it’s probably a mess! Thank you for being patient with this one, I hope you like it.

════════════════════════

There were times in which you wondered if hating somebody this much was worth it. Was it healthy? Were you being childish?

Then Damian Wayne’s stupid face would come to your mind and any ounce of doubt would vanish.

Everybody —except you— loved him, they found him charming even though he was rude... people practically kissed the ground the stuck up brat walked on.

Thankfully, you were relatively away from school, about to finish your shift at the movie theater. A place Damian Wayne would never step into. He was that stuck up.

You had never understood how he had such a sweet friend as Jonathan Kent. If anybody asked you, Jon deserved all the praise and attention his annoying best friend got.

Jess, your own best friend, often said Damian wasn’t as bad as you thought. And yes, biases could be at play but so could they be at play with her.

Maybe she found him handsome like most people did, maybe she thought he was smart just because he had good grades.

Besides, you were meant to be looking for a gift so thinking about biases and the complexity of the human experience would have to wait.

You should have looked for a gift a week earlier, and you didn’t even have an excuse as to why you didn’t. Nate wouldn’t mind if you didn’t buy him anything, but what kind of best friend would you be if you didn’t? Ten years of friendship warranted gifts on special occasions.

Assuming sneaking Nate into as many movie projections as he wanted didn’t count as a proper gift, you asked Jess to meet you at the entrance of the movie theater.

And true to her word, there she was by the time you were done with work.

“So what do you have in mind?”

“My brain is completely dry,” you sighed dramatically. “What did you buy him?”

She interlocked her arm with yours. “I’ll help you. It isn’t that hard to find a gift for him. Or is he picky with you?” She sounded worried for a moment. “I bought him a video game.”

“Nope. He likes pretty much everything.”

“It’ll be easy peasy, then.”

It was definitely not easy peasy. There was something off about every option you encountered. You wanted to give him something cool, something he would find useful, something that showed him how much you appreciated him.

Jess grabbed a military green jacket from a rack. “How about this? It doesn’t feel heavy.”

“Damian has a similar one.” Surely a more expensive one, perhaps more comfortable, but the jacket looked practically the same. You didn’t want anybody thinking you were forcing your best friend and now ex-boyfriend to dress up as your nemesis.

She made a face, twisting her mouth upward. You could tell she was trying not to roll her eyes. “Of course you know that.”

You motioned for Jess to follow you as you walked toward the exit. Perhaps a more inspired gift was a better option. You were a big fan of useful gifts, but changing the approach didn’t sound like a bad idea this time. Just this once.

She reached your side rather quickly. “I still don’t get why you hate him.” She added, as if she needed to clarify, “Damian, obviously.”

“He practically ruined my life.”

“Come on, don’t be so dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic! I was first of the class, popular, and respected. Then he and his homeschooled stupidity arrived.”

“People at school like you, though.”

“Not more than they like him,” you pointed out. “And I don’t know why they even tolerate him when he’s so... himself.”

Jess opened her mouth, surely to tell you that you were being petty. But you continued speaking, “I can’t wait for the semester to be over so he can go to a stupid Ivy League college his dad probably paid for him to get into where he’ll meet a gorgeous person with long legs and pretty eyes who will marry him even though they deserve better only to be forced to cheat on him because he cares more about work than about his partner.”

She slowed her pace down. “That—“ she interrupted herself by chuckling, “that sounds like you’ve thought a lot about his future…”

You matched her steps. “Not really. At this point, it’s common sense.”

“How is that common sense?”

You shrugged. “You would have to be in my shoes to see it that way and I don’t wish a day in my head to anybody.”

“Not even him?”

“God no! He would use the fact that I have a crush on his friend Rachel against me.”

“She’s pretty.”

“I knooooooow! Did I tell you she helped me clean the lab today?” You turned to the side to peer at her.

She lifted her eyebrows. “Did you freeze?”

“No. I’m just so cool that I don’t get intimidated by crushes anymore.”

“You did freeze.”

“A little bit,” you defeatedly admitted. “But I got over it really quickly because I just ended a relationship and I don’t want Nate to feel awkward if he sees me getting nervous around other attractive people.”

“Speaking about him…”

“Right, the gift!”

Jess grabbed you by the arm so you wouldn’t get away from the conversation. “Uh… have you talked about your relationship after high school?”

You looked down, watching your steps. “Not really.” In your defense, the topic never came up. Nate wasn’t the busiest person in the world, but the perfect moment to talk about something as serious always escaped you. “For a while I thought we would just date until we had nothing in common, but I don’t do long distance relationships.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to yourself,” she sighed.

You understood what she meant. Nate had been dreamy as a boyfriend, you would never deny that. But he would attend college in another State so continuing a relationship you couldn’t maintain wasn’t fair to either of you.

“I thought it would work because my parents were high school sweethearts, but you know...”

She hummed yet deviated from the topic, “Are you picking something for your mom too?”

“I have everything planned out for next week, don’t worry.”

Partially, you hadn’t looked for a gift for Nate because you had been busy making sure you would be able to surprise your mom for hers.

You would go all out like your dad used to. You had even visited the florist down your block to make a special request to surprise her in the morning, then you would cook for her and give her a gift.

Nothing could go wrong.

════════════════════════

Mondays weren’t that bad. They would have been fine if only you didn’t have to see Damian at school. Soon your wish would come true and you would finally know peace.

He wasn’t the only thing annoying you today. As you had walked down the stairs, you heard your mom humming a song and your worries started to bubble.

She then smiled at you from across the kitchen island which left you confused. She was everything but a morning person.

And when you thought things couldn’t get weirder, she stopped you from opening the fridge by saying, “Oh, no, honey, I made your favorite.”

Honey. She called you honey! Your mom disliked using pet names for you in private. She only used them when other people were around to sound like a loving mother.

Not that she was extremely hateful or anything, but she wasn’t the loving type.

She had even set the table — the table you hadn’t sat at in months. So then, she let it slide that she wanted you to stay at one of your friends’ house that Friday because she would have people over for her birthday.

You were happy for her, but you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with her request. She hadn’t celebrated her birthday in years, let alone with friends.

The feeling that she was keeping something from you prompted you to leave for school earlier than you were used to and in a hurry, to walk in a trance as you wondered what had changed and why hadn’t you realized.

You ended up arriving at school at the same hour you usually did, probably because you significantly slowed down as your mind reeled and worried over everything you could’ve missed in your mom’s demeanor.

Jess worriedly looked at you. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

You shook your head, dismissing her worries. “My mom’s acting weird, that’s all.” Shifting as you felt eyes on you, doing your best to not turn around, you asked, “Can I stay at yours on Friday?”

“I’m sure you can. I’ll ask my parents just to be sure, but I think they’ll be out so they might not care. We’ll have to take care of my brother, though.”

“That’s okay. Mom’s having people over and she doesn’t want me there.”

Your best friend looked as surprised as you had been when you found out. You twisted your mouth in an ‘I know, right?’ gesture.

The sensation of being stared at was becoming unbearable, and Jess seemed to have observed who had been staring because she rolled her eyes.

You turned around and found green eyes on you. Glaring at Damian, you waited for him to feign he hadn’t been staring. Instead, he continued glowering.

“What?” you snapped at him, gaining the attention of the people around you.

Damian walked towards you, sizing you up. “Nothing.”

“Then why are you staring, weirdo?”

“You look like shit today, that’s all.”

You huffed a laugh. Same old bullshit. “Find a better insult.”

“I don’t think you’re worth the effort.”

“That’s a pathetic excuse.”

“Not as pathetic as you.”

“Says the idiot who can’t—“

“Hey,” somebody interrupted you, grabbing you by the wrist and tugging on it. “Come on,” Nate insisted, “it’s not worth it.”

Before you could complain, Jon arrived at Damian’s side and whisked him away. Glaring at Nate, you freed your wrist from his grasp.

He glared back at you, tired of putting up with this. “You need to stop letting him get to you.”

“Don’t even try to deny it,” Jess warned.

You would never deny such a thing. Damian lived to get under your skin and you lived to ruin his day and hopefully his life.

Your Tuesday was boring, and apart from celebrating Nate’s birthday with lunch, your Wednesday would be pretty much the same.

Jess was excited for Friday, probably because she didn’t want to put up with her little brother on her own, but you would take it.

Speaking about Jess, she was late. You were supposed to be earlier than Nate to surprise him with gifts and balloons but now you were sure you looked stupid standing near the entrance on your own.

You texted her but she didn’t reply. To your luck, Jon and Damian were outside too, probably waiting for somebody by the look on the brat’s face.

Jon smiled as he saw you. “Oh, it’s Nate’s birthday!”

“Yeah.” You tried to sound enthusiastic, but you clearly failed. Jon’s attempts at small talk were never awkward, he wasn’t the problem, his gremlin friend was.

Damian eyed the balloons with disgust. “What did you get him?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Did you at least get him what he wanted?”

“He didn’t ask for anything specific because he’s not spoiled like you.”

“Or maybe he’s too immature to pick something.”

“For somebody who considers themselves a mature person you sure are childish.”

“What does it make you if it bothers you that much?”

“A normal human being.”

Damian let out a dry laugh. “Normal? You? That’s the only good joke you’ve ever told.”

“Dami,” Jon chastised his friend. “Be nice, she’s doing something sweet for her friend.”

Damian scoffed, not once attempting to hide his contempt. Jon’s semblance changed instantly, but only for a millisecond because Nate was walking towards you. With Jess.

Why were they together? Why hadn’t Jess answered your texts? What was that feeling in the pit of your stomach?

You smiled at your friends, hopefully genuinely, and wrapped your arms around Nate.

He squeezed you hard before letting go of you. “Please tell me you weren’t about to fight him on my birthday.”

“I would never, sweet precious Nate.” You handed him his gift and the balloons.

The birthday boy glowered at you. Yeah, he knew you well. Still, the gift and the balloons were a good distraction.

“Oh,” you exclaimed, “my mom sent you something too.”

Nate’s eyes shone as you withdrew a glass container with a bow around it from your bag. “Yes!” He fisted the air. “I love your mom’s cookies.”

“She knows.”

Your mom was sweet to your friends. And literally towards anyone but you if you were being honest. Your dad used to tell you not to take it personally, he’d say that she showed you her true version because she trusted you.

You still didn’t know how to feel about that. But first things first.

Jess looked as relieved as you did that Nate had liked the gifts the two of you got him.

“Turns out the green jacket would have been a bad idea,” she joked.

“I thought we would surprise him together...” you started speaking, trying to be nonchalant. You didn’t want her to know you were upset by such a minuscule thing.

“We bumped into each other on our way here.”

That made sense. Why had you been so annoyed over something so obvious?

As Friday morning rolled around, you considered asking your mom more details about her get-together, but you knew it would only spark an argument.

It was raining and according to the weather app on your phone, it would only get more intense as the day progressed. The theater would surely be packed that afternoon and the entire weekend — there weren’t many activities to enjoy in Gotham, rain or shine.

You found your mom in the living room, getting her things ready to leave for work. Hearing your steps, she spoke, “Don’t forget to call me when you get to Jess’s house.”

You hummed, looking down as you zipped up your jacket. “We’ll go directly to her house from school.”

“Do you need me to drive you right now?”

“No, Nate’s picking me up any minute now,” you assured her.

“Perfect. I’ll see you on Sunday, then.”

“Uh... sure.” You gave her a fake smile. “Have fun, mom.”

Sunday? You had assumed you only needed to stay at Jess’s one night.

A honk outside prompted you to turn around. As you opened the front door, you heard your mom sigh. Whether she was relieved or worried, you still decided to ignore it.

Her attitude honestly ruined your day, but you couldn’t do anything about it when she would blame you for being too sensitive.

Thankfully, the school day went by quickly, mostly because you didn’t pay too much attention in class.

Jess and Nate were talkative that day, unknowingly rubbing the fact that they would attend the same college in your face.

It wasn’t their fault per se, you had chosen to stay in Gotham, but they could keep it to themselves a little bit.

You had imagined the three of you would be inseparable after high school, yet they would be miles away in less than a month and you would have to find new best friends.

The living room at Jess’s house was wildly different from yours. Full of photographs and warm tones.

Your mom wasn’t a fan of photos, and she hated when rooms looked too busy. You were used to it, and you didn’t hate it or love it, but sometimes you wondered how would it be to be have grown up in a normal house. Or what you deemed normal.

“You’ve been quiet the entire day...” Jess tried to finally include you in the conversation.

“Mom’s acting even weirder than on Monday.”

Nate hummed. “And you don’t want to ask,” he asserted.

You shook your head.

He shifted, turning to the side to look at you and Jess. “Why don’t we do something fun tomorrow?”

“Like what? It’ll be raining.”

“An escape room?” he offered. “Or we could have a movie marathon? I just don’t wanna be home.”

“I have work tomorrow,” you told them, “but— shit!” You threw your head back and groaned.

“What?”

“I forgot to pack my uniform.”

“Call your mom and tell her to bring it to you.”

“She’d kill me.”

“What if I pick it up for you?” Nate asked.

“I think I’ll just go fetch it super early. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable.”

Jess wiggled beside you and you could feel her eyes on you. You didn’t have to turn to your side to know she was giving you the same look she always gave you when she considered you were being rude.

Perhaps you were, but you didn’t want your ex-boyfriend to go through your clothes.

Nate seemed to get the hint and stood up. He kissed your head, then Jess’s. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

”Drive carefully,” Jess reminded him.

You remained silent as Jess stood up to walk Nate out. She never did that to you, but then again, you were you.

“You don’t like him anymore?” Jess asked as she sat beside you again.

You frowned. “I mean, it’s awkward sometimes, but our relationship wasn’t too different from our friendship so I don’t know.”

“Apart from the making out, I hope.”

“Yeah. Basically, intimacy and pet names are different. He also complains less about my hatred towards Damian.”

“That’s just ‘cause trying to make you stop hating him is exhausting.”

You hadn’t found a way to explain it properly, and you were scared of being deemed insane by trying to put it into words.

From your perspective, there were relationships that marked people and others that didn’t. Jess’s friendship, your relationship with Nate that went from being friends to lovers to friends again quite seamlessly, of course your relationship with your parents...

There were also those friends you had in middle school whom you always thought about and stalked on Instagram just to see how they were doing, the friends you had made at work, that guy you got a crush on when he went to the theater dressed as Anakin Skywalker for the premiere of a Star Wars movie...

And yes, Damian. Because being able to be negative and vengeful when everybody expected you to be positive and collected was freeing.

Damian didn’t give you a pitiful look when he found out your dad was dead, he didn’t give a shit if you needed space or not because he wasn’t close to you, he couldn’t care less if he hurt your feelings by turning some people against you whether intentionally or not, and he definitely would be ecstatic if you had never crossed paths.

Damian didn’t care about your wellbeing or about your future. He just wanted to annoy you, he hated you, and you were more than cool with that.

“His stupid accent is exhausting,” you replied.

“You actually need help,” Jess said half-heartedly. “Hating somebody’s accent that much isn’t normal.”

“Accents are cool, his is just really annoying because it’s his.”

“It sounds like you hate him for the sake of hating somebody.”

“That’s not true! I hate multiple people, there are horrible people in the world.”

“So why bother with him?”

“You make me feel like I’m crazy for hating him when he is the one who has ruined everything for me. I had to pile up so much fucking work on top of my job at the movie theater just to make sure I got into university!”

“Everybody had to do extra work,” she reminded you. “Even him.”

“Oh, come on! His dad is Bruce Wayne, Jess, he didn’t have to do anything. He just wanted to hang out with his friends.”

“Okay, enough about him. You’ll never get whatever you need to get out of your system in a healthy way.”

“I won’t see him ever again, it’s fine. I’ll go to therapy next year while he turns into a frat boy.”

“He doesn’t give me frat boy vibes.”

“He’s rich. He kinda has to.”

“Hmmm...” Jess tilted her head. “I don’t see it, but you know him better than I do.”

You didn’t like the way it sounded so you changed the subject, deciding you didn’t want to have a bad time with your best friend when your time together was limited.

You didn’t really get much sleep, worried as to how you would sneak into your house without your mom noticing. She hated when you forgot important things — in fact, she told you to get a job so you’d become more responsible.

The walk from Jess’s house to yours wasn’t too long, yet the dark street made it feel extraneous. The city was exhausting when it came to those things.

At times you considered leaving, but it never felt right. You also had to admit that Batman and his companions had been making things less shitty for a while.

Well, sometimes. Other times they made everything worse. Like everything in life.

Sliding the key in, you inhaled softly. The living room was perfectly arranged and clean, just like the kitchen.

Just to be sure, you did your best to walk up the stairs in silence. The house wasn’t particularly new so it was easier planned than done.

For a moment you wondered if your mom hadn’t simply gone out with friends and lied to you about planning to have people over.

Then you heard voices as you walked down the hallway.

“It’s not an intruder,” a gruff male voice announced.

You turned around and found a shirtless Bruce Wayne at your mom’s room’s doorway. You hadn’t heard the door open.

She slipped between the doorframe and his bulk. “What are you doing here?” she demanded to know.

“I forgot my uniform,” you explained, looking down at the floor. You wished the carpet would swallow you whole.

“She works at the movie theater,” your mom said in a hushed tone, as though you wouldn’t hear.

“Damian told me.”

You bit the inside of your mouth, waiting for your mom to dismiss you already.

“I, uhm... I’ll just get the uniform and leave?” you hesitated yet didn’t wait for your mom to say anything. It was better that way.

The awkwardness bothered you less and less as what had truly happened dawned on you.

Fuck.

Your mom was fucking your nemesis’s dad.

════════════════════════

The topic of your mom’s new relationship wasn’t touched upon by either her or you. Jess and Nate didn’t know about it either, you weren’t sure as to what to say. You didn’t even know how you felt!

You had many questions. ‘Why him’ was the one that constantly swarmed in your mind, but you were also curious about how she met him.

Everybody would know eventually and school would become an even bigger nightmare. People were busy with the preparations for prom, but nobody would skip the opportunity of a hot gossip.

Damian knew it too. Your eyes immediately found his in the crowded hallway. He charged towards you, and for once you were eager to speak to him.

He looked past you. “I suppose you already got the bad news.”

“I think I almost caught them having sex.”

He cringed and looked down at you. The idiot had assumed you were joking. Ha! You wished you had been.

“Tell him to break up with her,” you demanded.

“My father doesn’t do whatever I tell him to do.” Damian adapted this air... as if he abhorred the idea of not being listened to. He narrowed his eyes. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“You’re super spoiled. Brattiest person I’ve ever met.”

“You don’t know anything substantial about me,” he defended himself. After a pause, he added, “Either way, I already tried.”

“Well, try again.”

“Why don’t you tell your mother to break up with my father?” he challenged you.

“Because she rarely cares about what I have to say.”

“Can’t say I blame her.”

“I hate the idea of spending my summer near you,” you said with disgust, ignoring his stupid comment.

“Perhaps we should take matters into our own hands.”

His words piqued your interest. “Care to elaborate?”

“Jon has mentioned that hearing us interact is taxing. Your mother and my father could potentially have the same reaction.”

Unable to hide your surprise upon learning he actually listened to Jon, you shifted on your feet and mulled on his words.

Pained, you admitted, “It’s not the worst idea in the world.”

“I would rather not spend time near you,” he assured you, “but I will be forced to either way so let’s use that time to free ourselves from each other.”

Damian’s plan sucked. His dad ignored his antics most of the time and your mom would only glare at you and chastise you in private.

Most of her arguments were in favor of Damian whom she considered amazing for whatever reason. You had the theory that she was lying because there was no way a human being could genuinely see him as anything but a demon.

The sentiment didn’t extend towards his family. Although you didn’t know how to feel regarding Bruce’s relationship with your mom, he wasn’t annoying or as stuck up as you once thought.

You particularly enjoyed Jason’s and Cassandra’s company. Tim was busy most of the time, but you had found him pleasant to be around the few instances you were in his presence — and Dick was a gem, you couldn’t believe he was so fond of somebody as awful as Damian.

And how could you forget Alfred who was an angel disguised as a butler?

Hell, even people who weren’t officially family were extremely nice in that household. Duke was funny, Stephanie always put you in a good mood, and you learned a lot from Barbara.

If only Damian wasn’t part of that family...

You thankfully had things to do and places to be. Shifts at the movie theater kept you busy and finals were around the corner so it was easier to use study sessions as an excuse.

Jess was busy with other things, so you spent time with your other friends. Your least patient and more judgmental friends, the ones who favored Damian too.

The tenses with your mom rose as prom approached. She wanted you to get a proper date while you insisted to attend prom with your friends and have fun.

Time proved her right and you hated it. Jess needed help choosing a dress so you dropped what you had to do to help her.

You regretted helping her the moment she told you how excited she was to have a date for prom. It was petty, borderline mean, but you didn’t care. A promise was a promise.

“So you got a date for prom without telling me when we had an agreement?!” You sounded bitter — you were bitter.

“Nate asked and it’ll be one of our last days in Gotham so...” Jess trailed off and softly smiled at you.

Her coy behavior wouldn’t work this time. “You could have told me with time!”

“I’m sure you’d get most people to go with you. Why don’t you ask Rachel?”

You hung your head low. “I’ll just use whatever as an excuse. I don’t wanna see Damian anyway.”

And because the universe hated you, Damian was at your house when you arrived.

You didn’t even want to think how happy he would be when he found out your ex-boyfriend had asked your best friend to be his prom date.

Avoiding looking at him, you greeted Bruce and Cassandra. Your mom cleared her throat.

You groaned. “Hi.”

Damian lifted both eyebrows. “Hello.”

“There,” you grumbled. “Can I go now? I need to get ready for work.”

“You have two hours,” your mom said sternly. “Sit down, you should hear the good news!”

The only good news you could get were that Damian was leaving the country.

No, that would have been too good to be true.

“Damian and you are going to the same college!”

Life hated you. The universe loved spiting you. God abandoned you years ago.

“All of his friends are staying for college,” Bruce explained, “so naturally he is too.”

You were genuinely sorry for his friends and for his family.

You hated that he had such a cool family. You would have killed to have a brother like Jason and a sister like Cassandra, but he didn’t seem to care.

Dick was his favorite, that was no secret, and yet Damian didn’t truly show much care for him either.

What you hated the most was that he was winning again. The only friend of yours that would stay was already in college and although he was happy to spend time with you, he wouldn’t take any of your classes.

Avoiding social media proved to be extremely hard on prom day. It was for the best, you didn’t need to see how good your classmates looked that evening, but you were also curious.

You planned the entire day. You’d have a slasher marathon and eat snacks all day and night.

Your mom pushed your bedroom door open and shrieked when she set her eyes on you.

You sat up. “What happened?” She was afraid of spiders, so maybe she saw one.

“Why aren’t you getting ready?”

“I’m not going.”

She craned her neck, briefly looking up at the ceiling. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Mom,” you pleaded, “I don’t need you to tell me how disappointed you are in me because I’m not prom queen.”

“I’m not disappointed. But you’re popular and pretty. You should be there.”

“Your boyfriend’s son is more popular than me.”

Offended, she stood straight and gritted, “Damian is his own person.”

“Why do you defend him so much?!”

She walked toward you, standing at your bedside. “Why do you hate him so much?”

“Did you not pay attention every time I told you about it?”

“No. I just let you get it out of your system.”

“Well...” Your voice almost broke. “That’s not what I needed.”

She tugged the duvet off your body. “Take a shower. I’ll do your hair.”

“I don’t want to go. I don’t have a date.”

“You’ll find somebody to dance with, I promise.”

“I don’t want to dance with anybody,” you insisted, avoiding her face by staring past her. “I’m comfortable here.”

Your mom threw the duvet at you. “Don’t come crying to me when you regret it.”

As if you trusted her not to laugh at you for crying over anything.

You loved her, you really did, and you wished your relationship could be better. You had to learn the hard way that she loved your dad more than she loved you and when he died so did her patience with you.

You didn’t even know what her concept of popular was or if yours was the wrong one. Why did it matter that people knew who you were if they only cared about you when they needed something?

She started playing music in her room, loud enough so you wouldn’t be able to hear your TV.

Now your plans were ruined.

Changing into a pair of jeans, you slipped a hoodie on, charged the hoodie with snacks, and trotted down the stairs.

Parks were awful in Gotham. The ones that were in good state had little to no lighting and the well-lit ones were rusty and full of weeds.

You had to walk past an entire neighborhood apart from your own in order to get to the park you frequented.

You sat on a swing. They had been changed recently, courtesy of Wayne Foundation.

There was still work to do around the place. The benches were rusty and uncomfortable in attempts to stop homeless people from sleeping on them.

Hostile architecture wasn’t too common in the city, but you knew the trend would eventually reach every corner of Gotham.

Your mom was a huge proponent of it, and by the way her friends spoke they were too. They talked about bigger cities and how pretty they looked without people sleeping on the streets.

As if those people didn’t deserve a place to sleep at, as if the system hadn’t failed them enough already.

You never saw things the same way your mom did. Your dad was more passive about most things, always trying to find a middle ground so the family would stay together.

And your dad was gone.

The last person you wanted to see walked towards you. Damian was dressed similarly to you, but instead of wearing a hoodie he was wearing a sweatshirt.

“What are you doing here?” he gruffly asked.

“Losing time. You?”

He shrugged. Approaching you, he glanced at you before sitting down on a swing too, leaving an empty one between the two of you. “Shouldn’t you be accepting your plastic crown?”

“Shouldn’t you be turning girls down and loudly complaining about them to Jon?”

“It’s unorthodox,” he admitted, “but it works.”

“You are a dick.”

“Yet you’re here talking to me instead of being with your friends.”

“You spoke first.”

He gripped the chains tightly. “And you always need to have the last word.”

“Says you.”

Ignoring him, you slipped your hand in the front pocket of your hoodie and took a bag of gummies out. Undoing the knot, you offered the bag to him.

Damian looked down at the contents of the bag and frowned.

“They’re gummies.”

“I know what they are.” His expression didn’t change.

“I didn’t poison them if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He looked skeptic.

“Look.” You popped a gummy into your mouth and chewed. After swallowing you said, “See? I’m fine.”

“Debatable.” He stretched his arm and reached for the bag. “Why did you buy so many?”

“Leo gave them to me.”

He gave you a strange look. He didn’t know who Leo was.

“A coworker.”

“So you didn’t pay for them?”

“A lot of food goes to waste in movie theaters.” You changed the bag to your other hand, the one closer to him. “To answer your question, no, I didn’t.”

“You could give the food out,” he mused, as though it had never crossed anybody’s mind but his.

“We’re not allowed. We sometimes do it on busy days because it’s less obvious, but yeah...”

Silence attempted to settle between you. At least verbal silence. The city was never calm, and the wind insisted on making you company. The rustle of the bag was a nice touch.

Remembering your hoodie wasn’t empty yet, you broke the silence, “You want chocolate covered raisins?”

“Just how much food can you fit in that pocket?”

“I have pistachios too...”

He snorted. “Still better than whatever people from school are eating.”

You observed he didn’t call them ‘classmates’ and momentarily frowned. Then again, you weren’t sure they counted as classmates to you either. “Damn right.”

You gave him the bag and started to swing lightly. From your side eye, you saw him eat more gummies.

“Can I ask you something?” you asked before going a little faster.

“I might not answer, but you can.”

Of course he would make it difficult. But he would also be honest, he wouldn’t lose anything by hurting you with the truth.

You stopped the swinging motion by planting your feet on the ground. “Did my mom send you?”

“No. I didn’t know you wouldn’t attend.”

“You would have attended if you knew?”

He scoffed, wrapping his fingers around the chains at one of his sides, bag of gummies gripped tightly in his other hand. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

You smiled and continued swaying softly. At least he didn’t pity you.

════════════════════════

Jess: Wanna go shopping?

Oh, so now she wanted to spend time with you.

You were still offended she didn’t have the decency to be honest with you and tell you she wanted to have a prom date.

I’m going to a baseball game today.

:( ditch.

Mom’s making me go. You go shopping and have fun, I’ll suffer with the gremlin.

I promise I won’t laugh when I see you on the kiss cam with him <3

SHUT UP.

Nate and I are having a farewell dinner next weekend.

You HAVE to be there.

I will. Give me more details later.

You would definitely need permission for that.

Your mom was still annoyed you hadn’t gone to prom, but she had started speaking to you again since she found out Damian didn’t go to prom either.

That didn’t mean she would just give in, though. It’d probably depend on your so-called behavior that evening.

Your mom’s posture always changed when you arrived to Wayne Manor. She fixed her outfit and elbowed you on the ribs so you’d do the same.

You looked down at your clothes. They were fine.

“The boys and Cassandra are in the garden,” Bruce let you know.

Thanking him, you walked towards the kitchen. Before you could cross it, you bumped into Cassandra.

The freezer was open and she was going through it.

Feeling your presence, she asked, “You want a popsicle?”

“Yes, please.”

“Cherry or orange?”

“Cherry, please.”

Seconds later, a popsicle was being offered to you. Taking it, you let her lead the way.

“We were talking about college,” she told you.

“What about it?”

“Well, we all know why Damian decided to become an economist,” Jason said in a teasing tone. “But why did you choose sociology?”

“I wanted to be a doctor first, but I don’t think I would be a good one so I went with something completely different that’d still would be useful to people.”

Jason briefly glanced at Damian.

Cassandra curiously tilted her head. “You never thought about studying film?”

“I did. I have a friend that just started studying film and he recommended it so I was sure I would go that route, but most men at film school are on another level of awful.”

Damian frowned. “Many people say that.”

“They’re not wrong.” Jason wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “You should’ve chosen English literature, though.”

“Stop projecting on me, Jay.”

“Never.”

“He did the same with you, didn’t he?” you asked Cass.

Jason gasped, feigning offense. Cassandra broke in laughter.

She also asked, “Will you continue working at the movie theater once you start college?”

“I don’t know. Mom doesn’t want me to keep the job, but I think I can do it.”

Jason smiled. “As long as I still get those sweet coupons...”

Damian groaned. “Aren’t you a little old to take dates to the cinema?”

“I didn’t know people stopped liking movies at certain age.”

Cassandra twisted her mouth, looking at you as though saying ‘men, right?’

You were unsure if it was a case of sibling banter, how insufferable Damian was, or male stupidity — perhaps a combination of the three.

Alfred came to fetch you and Damian.

Jason and Cassandra followed you both inside. Jason put his jacket on, seemingly on his way out too.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Bruce asked Cassandra.

“I’m sure. I had to take a chunk of work home.”

Bruce hummed and opened the front door himself.

“Behave,” Jason told Damian.

Damian glared. He didn’t like to be told what to do.

You entered the car through the opposite side. Leaving a space in the middle was now a reflex. Neither you or Damian spared a glance to said space or each other throughout the car ride.

Your mom tried to make you both talk, asking about plans for college and the like, but it wasn’t as successful as she imagined it would be.

Another annoyance arose when you arrived to the baseball park. Instead of walking down the stairs and through the rows like normal people, you were guided to a box.

The VIP box to be precise. Yes, you should have expected it, but you were annoyed nonetheless. You didn’t even know the stadium had boxes, let alone VIP ones!

You hadn’t been there in years, perhaps they were a new amenity. A pointless one in your opinion.

Sat between your mom and Damian, you tried your hardest to enjoy the game.

“The view here sucks,” you mumbled to yourself.

Damian heard you. “You’re supposed to watch from the TV.”

“That defeats the purpose of coming to the stadium.”

He frowned. “Is it better from another angle?”

“Depends.” You took your eyes off the pitcher and looked at him. “If you’re passionate about the sport, it is.”

“You like sports?”

“Not really. My dad liked them. Football and baseball were his favorites and mom didn’t like them so I went to a few games with him.”

“So why complain?”

“Because it’s more entertaining when it makes you feel something.”

Damian shifted his attention away from the TV and towards the park in front of him. His expression changed.

He wouldn’t verbally admit you were right, but you could tell he had been persuaded.

Wet sounds prompted you to turn around. You were ready to complain about loud eaters when you remembered you were in a box.

Your eyes fell on the back of your mom’s head and, horrified, you realized the sounds were coming from her and Bruce.

He had his arm around her shoulders, holding her tight against him as he kissed her.

“Yeah, I’m leaving,” you said as you stood up. “Have fun.”

“I’m leaving too.” Damian jumped off his seat and stomped his way towards the exit.

You half-expected either your mom, Bruce, or a member of security to chase after you, but nobody did.

Once out of the venue, you sat on a concrete step.

Damian stood near you. “That was horrible.”

“Right?” You stared up. “I mean, I knew they would kiss once or twice when I’m around but...”

“The sounds are the problem.”

“You think everybody over 25 makes them?”

“I don’t know. I hope not.”

You shuddered. “I would jump off a building if I knew I made those sounds.”

“Perhaps the issue is the amount of saliva produced by one or both parties,” he attempted to say eloquently. It came off as a complaint and nothing else.

“Oh, yeah. Didn’t you hear? Slobbery kisses are the new French kissing.”

He snorted. “I hate you.”

“I know.” Taking your phone out, you checked the time. “Cabs won’t arrive any time soon.”

“I didn’t bring my wallet.”

What an idiot.

You stood up. “Let’s take the subway. I’ll pay.”

Both of you walked in silence. His presence helped in the sense that whoever you encountered in the streets ignored you for once because you weren’t by yourself.

You were thankful in a way. Not that it was him, but that somebody was with you. It was getting dark and the surrounding areas of major venues were a special kind of dangerous on busy days.

Walking down the stairs to the station, you asked, “You’ve been in public transportation before, right?”

“Not here.”

“Oh, man, you’re in for a treat.”

True to your word, you paid for both tickets.

The moment he sat down, he scrunched up his nose. “It smells really bad in here.”

“Yup.”

“You don’t care?”

Of course you cared, but what could you do? “I rarely use the subway so I’m not used to the smell, but it’s better than nothing. All the money the city has goes to the police and prisons.”

“The corrupt police, you mean?” He sounded bitter.

“I’m not the one who gives them money.”

That shut him up. He was right, the subway stenched. You’d never admit it, but his strong cologne was the only thing keeping you from puking.

“Y’know, you could’ve called Alfred.”

Damian looked down and grumbled, “Shut up.”

You snickered but didn’t tease him furthermore. Watching your mom and her boyfriend kissing was traumatic enough, you didn’t need the few people in the subway witnessing a fight between you and Damian.

When your stop was announced, you stood up. “This is my stop. Yours is in the third station after this one.”

Damian stood too and followed you out of the train.

“Dude...”

“I’m not in the mood to put up with one of Alfred’s lectures.”

Alfred’s lectures must’ve been harsh if he preferred being around you over getting one of them. Now you were curious.

But you decided not to ask, it was none of your business. Besides, he wouldn’t give you details about something he found uncomfortable, he would be giving you ammo.

The house was completely dark. In her hurry, your mom forgot to check if the front lights were on. Withdrawing your keys, you palmed the wall beside the door until you found the light switch.

Now aware of which key you were picking, you slid the correct one in and unlocked the door.

Turning the light on, you waited for Damian to get inside before closing the door and locking it.

“Why do you carry keys to your house when you’re out with your mother?”

“My room is locked and I’m the only one who has a key. It’s a habit.”

Damian hummed and sat on the loveseat.

You made your way to the kitchen and opened the fridge. You were trying to find something good to reheat when you realized you couldn’t just eat by yourself.

You couldn’t be rude, could you?

“You want something to eat?” you asked, voice loud so he’d hear you.

Damian followed your voice towards the kitchen.

You leaned onto the counter. “I mean real food, not candy.”

“I suppose dinner wouldn’t hurt.”

════════════════════════

Melancholy was starting to hit you. Soon your best friends would be gone and you’d be packing for college.

You would miss your bedroom and your house overall. The neighbor’s laugh that sometimes went through your wall, and watching the sunrise from your window. And you would miss your mom, flaws and all.

But you wouldn’t miss having to wear earphones to bed in case your mom had brought her boyfriend home or waking up to her in a bad mood because he had canceled plans.

Of course you would see her every weekend, you weren’t leaving the city for that reason, but you wouldn’t live together anymore.

It saddened you. No matter how much you tried, you just couldn’t get close to her — close like Jess was to her mom.

Your dad used to say she loved you in her own way, and to pacify you, he’d add that you were so special that not many people knew how to handle you. He meant it as a compliment, but you weren’t certain it was one.

You wondered if she’d try to touch the bedroom while you were gone, if she’d turn it into a sewing room or a home gym. You wouldn’t be surprised if she did, a part of you wanted her to.

How easy it would be to continue being disappointed. She surprised you sometimes, getting you high and higher only to see how far you’d fall when reality hit.

A slow knock was bestowed upon your door. You didn’t recognize the rhythm so you stood up from the floor, putting the box of photos you didn’t get to go through to the side.

To your surprise, you found Damian when you opened the door.

He offered you money.

“What’s this?”

“I’m repaying you for the other night.”

You looked down at the bill. “Where on Earth did you get that a subway ticket costs one hundred dollars?”

Was he really this out of touch? You had imagined that with friends as easygoing as his, he’d know the state of the real world, the one he would never need to step into.

Damian didn’t answer.

You didn’t take the money. “If you have some extra cash, why don’t you visit the homeless camp?”

His voice became louder. “The what?”

You grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into your room. Closing the door, you lifted a hand so he wouldn’t speak and pulled your cellphone out.

He still spoke. “Your room is a mess.”

“I know where everything is.”

“You would also know where everything is if you kept it tidy.”

“Look, do you want to know more about the homeless camp or not?”

“I don’t understand why you couldn’t tell me in the hallway.”

“My mom could hear us and she’s not fond of homeless people.”

His shoulders slumped ever so slightly. You unlocked your phone.

“I’ve never seen a camp of homeless people,” he admitted. His voice carried an accusatory tone, but, used to it, you easily ignored it

“Shut up, let me make a phone call.” Your finger hovered over the green button.

“Who are you calling?”

“Somebody who knows where the camp is.”

“You don’t?”

You would never understand how he managed to survive in this city without basic knowledge of it. “They have to relocate many times per month, sometimes per week.”

He nodded so you’d make the call. As if you needed his permission.

The call was picked up rather quickly.

“Hi, Alice,” you greeted your friend involved with helping everybody relocate or find a place to stay. “How are things going?”

Her signal wasn’t the best, her words would get cut off and the wind rustled through the phone, hurting your ear.

“You relocated again?”

Damian anxiously stared at you.

“Could you give me the address?”

You pointed to a stack of papers on your desk. Damian snatched a sheet and a pen from the pencil holder.

He didn’t hand you either item. He took a book from your shelf and used it as leverage, insisting on writing himself.

Resigned, you asked Alice, “Are they in need of anything right now?”

Damian drew a line across the sheet, ready to make a list.

“Which type of medicine?”

He perked up, eyes all over your face.

“Yeah, yeah.” You gnawed on your bottom lip. “I can get a hold of them, don’t worry... Antiseptics? What happened?” You watched the movement of Damian’s hand as he scribbled.

The movements were quick as he listed other things that could go with antiseptics. Your handwriting would’ve been illegible if you tried to write that quickly.

“I’ll see you in...” You held the phone between your cheek and shoulder, tapping your wrist.

Damian understood you were asking for the time and showed you the clock on his phone.

“In about three hours, okay, Alice? I’ll see what else I can bring.” As the call ended, you sighed. “We need to get a hold of antibiotics.” You looked up at the ceiling, trying to find a solution. “Food, gauzes...”

Pen against paper made you react. You dropped your phone onto the bed.

“We might have to stop at goodwill and see if we can find some clothes... I don’t have anything to donate today.”

“Your mom doesn’t let you?”

“Nah.” You settled your eyes on him. “I already donated it. Either way, Alice calls me when she needs plus-size items.”

“Is that how you met her?”

Such a curious gremlin.

You shook your head. “I’ll tell you on our way there.”

Kneeling on the floor, you reached under the bed and pulled out a wooden box where you saved cash. You placed the money on the mattress, next to your phone, and stood up. “Count that.”

Opening your closet door only to block everything with your body, knowing he’d judge the mess in there, you craned your neck, expectant of the sum.

He glared at you. “230.”

“Cool. I thought it was less.”

You slid your hand in between poorly folded t-shirts a few times and let out a frustrated sigh.

Impatient, Damian asked, “What are you doing now?”

“I don’t leave everything I’ve saved in the same place,” you explained, stopping the movements of your hand when your fingers hit something.

“I’m paying for everything, don’t fret about that.”

Ignoring his comment, you withdrew a cloth bag and untied the knot. This time you didn’t count. “Half and half?”

He sighed, defeated. “Half and half.”

You still took every penny you had saved.

Snatching your keys, you motioned for him to leave the room so you could lock it.

Damian folded the paper and slid it into his pocket, tapping his foot against the floor while you struggled to find the right key.

You ignored his relieved sigh when you were done and trotted down the stairs in a hurry.

“I’m driving,” you clarified in case he wanted to take Bruce’s car. In part because you couldn’t take an expensive car to the places you had to make stops at.

“No, I’m driving.”

“It’s my car!”

“And I’m sure you’re bad at driving it.”

Your mom interrupted from the living room, “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere important,” both of you answered at the same time.

“Why go, then?” Bruce interfered.

“Jess and Nate are having a farewell dinner,” you explained.

“I didn’t know you two had friends in common.”

Of course your mom would say something like that.

“Some of Damian’s friends are invited.”

“Who?” your mom pressed.

“Rachel will definitely be there. And Jon said he might make time...”

Damian whined. “He’ll probably arrive late as always.”

“Well, you can’t blame him. The drive to Nate’s aunt‘s is long.”

Your mom already knew that and she would never say no to anything that involved Nate so she only told you to be careful. Bruce extended the sentiment, although he looked more worried over how much Damian and you could potentially fight.

Unlocking the car, you didn’t wait for him to get in to do it yourself. He was pissed over not being the driver, but you knew you were right by fighting him on this.

His seatbelt clicked. “Do you lie to your mother often?”

“Saves time and fights.” You fastened your seatbelt too. “The dinner is actually today so I technically didn’t lie.”

“I didn’t know my acquaintances were invited.”

“Most people love your friends.” Hoping you hadn’t sounded too bitter, you started the car.

The road became bumpier the more you drove. The patchy resurfacing would always be a giveaway as tho which area of the city you were in, Gotham was that predictable sometimes.

You could tell Damian recognized where you were going by catching the roll of his shoulders from your peripheral view.

“When I met Alice,” you started, aware that if you gave him time, he would complain, “the factory that closed so they could build the expensive apartment complex where the mayor lives now left many people without jobs and most of them were evicted.”

You had been working at the movie theater for almost three weeks when you met her. She was collecting money to buy tents at the time — donations were at an all-time low, she said, with people pushing more and more for homelessness to be criminalized.

Such a thing didn’t happen by miracle. Nobody knew exactly what happened, but representatives dropped the topic out of nowhere.

“A lot of those folks were able to find other jobs,” you added, realizing he was actually paying attention to you.

“But not everybody has that same luck,” he mumbled.

“Exactly. Her current project is either an actual refugee or a commune, it will depend on the budget she has at the moment, but the fundraiser is going too slow.”

“That doesn’t explain why they relocate often.”

“Some people don’t like the aesthetic of tents so they call the cops on them. Alice says some are also scared they’ll get caught in a fight between Batman and a random... villain, I guess?”

You drove past a pharmacy and slowed down. Finding a parking spot away from a cornerstone, you turned the engine off.

“You think we need anything else? Maybe antihistamines?”

Damian frowned, you hadn’t seen him do so this deeply before. “How are you going to get them to sell us antibiotics without a prescription in the first place?”

You incredulously peered at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m not stupid.”

“You could have fooled me.” Twisting your body in order to reach the back of the car, you grasped the string of your satchel and tugged on it. Once sure the bag was empty, you warned Damian, “Stay here.”

“I’m not taking orders from you.”

“I’m not going to enter a fucking pharmacy in The Narrows with Bruce Wayne’s son. I don’t have a death wish!”

He glared at you but didn’t fight you and gave you the list he had made. He looked like an angry puppy who had been locked in a car which almost made you laugh.

The guy who usually offered pills outside wasn’t nearby which meant it was earlier than you anticipated.

You entered the pharmacy and took the list out. To Damian’s credit, he managed to make a coherent list on his first try which you had never been able to do.

Taking a basket, you searched for over-the-counter stuff first.

Reaching the counter, you smiled at the pharmacist and placed the basket next to the scanner. “Hey, Chris, how’s everything going?”

He called you by your childhood nickname as he greeted you, “Can I help you with anything else?”

You made sure there was nobody else nearby and leaned over, hands on the edge of the plastic basket. “You can say no, but you think you could sell me some antibiotics without a prescription?”

“Are you giving medical advice again?”

“That was one time and I was twelve,” you defended yourself. “But no, I’m donating them.”

Chris hummed. His brown eyes stayed on your face for a moment, like your dad’s used to when he wanted to make sure you weren’t lying.

He then stared at something behind you and brought his hand into his hair. You took note of the fact that he dyed it — the last time you saw him, white streaks of hair had already appeared.

You also realized more people had entered the pharmacy when his voice turned into a whisper as he asked, “Which type?”

“Broad-spectrum,” you answered in a hushed tone.

You placed the satchel on the counter so he would drop the antibiotics there. Before you could say anything else or before he could go to the back and look for anything, a line started to form behind you.

He scanned everything you had dropped into the basket in silence and gave you the total.

As you paid him, he said, “I can take a break in a few minutes...” He then slid the satchel towards him and you understood he would actually do what you needed from him.

Taking the bags containing everything you had already bought, you assured him, “I’ll wait outside.”

You didn’t bother to give Damian explanations as you left the bags on the backseat and went back across the street, you didn’t give him a chance to ask either.

His eyes were on you, not only had you seen him but his gaze had always been heavy. Before knowing him, you never believed when people said they could feel somebody’s eyes on them.

Then again, before knowing him your life was much easier — people liked you back then, you were considered charming and smart, your mom was proud of how many people you had managed to enchant.

“Here.”

You hadn’t heard or seen Chris come out of the pharmacy. As you focused on him, you realized he was offering the satchel back to you. Taking it, you asked, “How much do I owe you?”

He gave you a note to be fully transparent and so you paid him, giving him something extra.

“Did you drive here?” he asked as he pocketed the money. Seeing you nod, he added another inquiry, “All by yourself?”

You hesitated before answering, “An acquaintance is making me company.”

Chris placed his hand on your shoulder and affectionately squeezed it. “Be careful.”

You nodded. “You too, yeah?”

He smiled at you. His attempt at a warm smile was appreciated, but you knew what his shifty eyes hid — you’d seen such a semblance before, many times. “Yeah,” he said.

You let out a sigh when you were back in the car, hands gripping the wheel as you stared at the dying trees a few meters ahead.

Starting the car, you rolled your shoulders and reached for the gear shift.

“Your seatbelt,” Damian reminded you blandly.

Nodding, you fastened your seatbelt on.

“That pharmacist... do you know them?”

You only would have been surprised if he hadn’t asked. “My dad was friends with him.”

Silence reigned after your explanation. He was almost tolerable like this, sitting still and for once admitting other people were capable of doing the things he knew how to do.

Then your phone dinged on the cupholder.

“Could you check the locked screen?”

It took him a second before he took your phone. “Alice says she needs a hammer and rope.”

“Okay.”

You turned to the left instead of continuing forward just as Damian carefully put your phone down.

He’d probably seen your locked screen was Robin’s logo, but what could you? Your friends teased you enough already about your crush on Robin, as though they would ever understand what it meant to know somebody out there truly cared.

“It’s Sunday,” Damian pointed out. “Where are we going to find a hardware store open?”

“Don’t worry, leave that to me.”

After a few minutes of driving through bumpy streets, you stopped in front of a two-story house. Looking up, you saw the window closed.

“Fuck.”

“Now what?”

“We have to wait for a little while.”

Damian withdrew his own phone.

A yellow cap caught your attention. Its wearer, a short tanned man briefly stopped to talk to somebody, seemingly greeting them, before walking closer and closer to where you were parked.

He was carrying something in his left hand, but you couldn’t see what it was due to the angle the sun hit your face with.

And again, he stopped upon recognizing your car. You waved at him. He made you a sign to wait for him and unlocked the door to his house once you nodded.

Damian undid his seatbelt. “Should I go with you?”

“No.”

“This place doesn’t look good,” he tried to reason with you, “and he was carrying beer.”

“You know your way around certain places and I know my way around other ones.” Turning to the side, you glanced at him. Once again, he was frowning. He’d age horribly if he followed this pattern. “You’d make things worse, believe me.”

He opened his mouth to object, but once his eyes mistakenly found yours, he decided to drop it.

You rolled the window down before getting out of the car so Damian could hear there was no problem with the man you were visiting.

Yellow cap still on, the man greeted you.

You greeted him back, “Hey, Mike!”

Mike’s attention, however, wasn’t on you. “Who’s your friend?”

“Mom’s boyfriend’s son.”

Scrunching his nose up and sniffing, he asked, “What can I help you with, kid?”

“You got nylon rope by any chance?”

He crossed his arms. He always did that when you’d done something bad. “What did you get yourself into?”

“Nothing bad! I’m visiting the homeless camp.”

Mike looked past you and towards the car again. You craned your neck to see why he was so adamant on staring at Damian and you couldn’t take your eyes off his fingers as he played a game on his phone.

He was obviously listening to the conversation. The game was on silent mode and he was leaning towards the passenger side.

“Anything else?”

You pried your attention away from Damian and looked at Mike. Work must’ve been tough that week because he looked tired. “A good hammer,” you quickly answered.

He threw a suggestion in, “Nails?”

“Sure thing.” You shrugged. “She didn’t ask for any, but they’re never unwelcome.”

“I’ll see if I got a hammer with a good claw.”

You waited outside. He didn’t really live there so you knew better than following him inside. The house was his, you had lived there with him and your aunt for almost a year, but she decided to move to a bigger one when they started having children.

Mike dropped a bag onto the only step to the house, handed you the end of the rope on his shoulder, and told you to hold it tight as he twisted it.

You watched in silence, knowing he didn’t like being talked to when he was busy.

It turned out he had indeed found a hammer with a good claw in his stash too.

Handing you the rope first, he told you, “50 bucks and coupons for the movies.”

“You got it. Let me get the coupons.”

Throwing the rope onto the backseat, you instructed Damian, “Open the glove box and give me the stack of blue coupons.”

Damian glared first, not appreciating being told what to do, but he did it either way.

Mike gave you the bag with the nails and the hammer as you paid him. “If you go on Thursday, I’ll even give you a snack box for free.”

“Be safe.” He didn’t even count the money after taking it.

You patted his arm. “Say hi to my aunt for me.”

“I will.”

Mike didn’t move until you were almost around the corner, just like your aunt did with him when he left for work.

Damian couldn’t help himself. “That was cheap.”

You hated when people played dumb. “You know damn well they’re stolen.”

“It just occurred to me we could’ve gone to Home Depot.”

“It’s better like this.” Mike would never tell your mom you had visited him, your aunt wouldn’t either, and somebody could easily say they had seen Damian at Home Depot.

“Friend of your father too?”

“My aunt’s husband.” You explained before he would ask anything else, “He doesn’t like being called uncle.”

You made your last stop in order to buy food and after getting lost once, you arrived at the camp.

Alice hugged you tightly, like you assumed a loving sister would after weeks of not seeing each other, and explained to you that they were in the process of setting the camp for the week.

“This is Damian.” You tilted your head to the side where he was standing.

If she found the fact that you knew him weird, she hid it very well. They shook hands.

“Can you check up if Charlie over there is doing okay?” Alice asked you. “They had a fever this morning and said it hurt more and more as time passed.”

“What happened to them?”

“A dog bit them, but we don’t have enough money to take them to the ER right now.”

Damian and you shared a look.

“Call an ambulance,” he said, “I’ll pay.”

Alice looked at you, searching for confirmation.

You were about to explain how expensive medical bills were to him when he lifted a hand and told you, “I haven’t paid for anything yet. Consider it my half.”

“I’ll make the call,” you agreed.

With the ambulance on its way, you gave Damian and Alice space to fix details. He couldn’t be seen at the hospital with them, after all.

You went through your notifications in the meantime, sitting in the car with your window down. Your friends were wondering if you were running late or if you had fallen ill.

Jess bombarded you with texts, offended that you wouldn’t say goodbye in person. Nate took the route of messaging you on every social media platform you had.

You didn’t reply to any of their messages.

Saying goodbye was hard. Or so you imagined. You weren’t able to say goodbye to your dad when he died, or to your favorite teacher when she quit out of nowhere. You had never said goodbye to a friend either, they just drifted away without a word and left you wondering what had you done to be abandoned once again.

Some things never changed.

Damian tugged the passenger door open and got into the car. He didn’t tell you anything about his conversation with Alice, but she waved at you so you assumed it was time to go.

“She made it sound as though you’ve tended people’s wounds before...”

“A dumb thing to do when I’m not a professional,” you admitted. “I try to stay away from doing it, but it’s hard to see people struggling knowing nobody else will be willing to help them.”

“Why don’t you want to be a doctor anymore then?”

You could have lied. You should have lied, in fact, but for some reason, you didn’t want to. “I don’t think I could bear to tell somebody they’re dying and there’s nothing I can do for them.”

“Is that all?”

“Is it not enough?”

He remained silent.

Oh, well. You had witnessed the type of standards he had so it shouldn’t have been surprising that he didn’t care for other people’s feelings. Much less your own.

You changed the subject, “We should go to the dinner.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Damian, your dad and my mom will eventually see photos.“

“I’ll wait for you in the car.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We don’t even have to stay that long... maybe a couple of hours.”

“That’s long.”

Perhaps it was, or perhaps you’d grown tired of feeling left out and would rather not go.

Fairy lights decorated the garden, although you didn’t understand the point of having them on when the sky wasn’t dark quite yet. It was getting there, but this seemed like a waste of resources.

You had been right by assuming Rachel would be there — Jon was too, and he beamed when he saw you and Damian.

Damian was too busy staring at the fairy lights, judgmentally so.

As your eyes scanned the area, you started to feel uncomfortable. It didn’t occur to you that this wouldn’t be a casual dinner.

Sure, nobody was wearing a tux or a gown, but jeans and a button-up blouse were a bit too casual.

Your only consolation was that Damian was underdressed too. If only he had worn a t-shirt instead of a shirt so you would look better...

To exacerbate your dismay, you were forced to sit beside him. Jess had given your spot at her right to Cindy, one of the gals obsessed with Damian, and you could tell she was as jealous of you as you were of her.

“Stop sighing,” he complained beside you.

Frowning, you shifted to face him. His eyes were already on you, eyebrows up as if to scold you.

Yeah, attending was a mistake and even more so taking him with you. You sighed, this time consciously, and said, “I need to talk with my friends.”

He looked up at you as you stood. You wished this was more common, it felt good to be looked up and not down —literally and metaphorically—, however, it didn’t last and you went along.

Jess met you in the middle, giving you a tight smile as she wrapped her arm around you. “Why did you bring him?”

“I couldn’t leave him at my house,” you lied in a low voice, “mom insisted.”

“Good thing you didn’t fight him here.”

“I wouldn’t like to ruin your night.”

“You almost did with that outfit,” she jokingly said.

“Mom made us run errands earlier.”

“Getting along with your half-brother?”

It sounded dreadful. God, you hated that. “Don’t call him that,” you snapped.

Jess giggled.

You remembered the days your mom used to threaten you with giving you a sibling if you didn’t behave. She’d buy baby clothes sometimes just to remind you how easy it would be to, according to her, replace you with a child who actually loved her.

“We’re not staying for long,” you stiffly said. Moving away from her touch, you added, “I should say hi to Nate too...”

“He’s inside with his aunt,” she let you know.

You had been there many times. Nate always celebrated his birthday there, his aunt was like his second mom and she always insisted on throwing him parties.

She smiled at you upon seeing you. It was forced, rightfully so after he openly posted about your breakup on Facebook.

Nate’s smile was more genuine, it even filled his eyes.

“Something came up,” you blurted, unaware as to why. “Damian is needed back at home.” Immediately, you rectified, “I mean, his house, and I’m needed at home.”

Nate’s face fell.

“I’m sorry,” you hurriedly apologized. “You know how mom is...”

He nodded. “Come here.”

You stepped into his open arms, lightly wrapping your own around him.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he said as he held the back of your head with one of his hands, pulling you onto his chest.

“Me too.”

He chuckled. “You can visit anytime you want.”

“So can you.”

You didn’t want this to take longer than it had to, and you definitely didn’t want to say goodbye.

He hugged you tighter before you could pull away. “Jess might cry,” he warned you.

You felt awful for doubting it. ”I better get there and console her...”

He let go of you then. “Text me when you’re home or something,” Nate told you, “I was worried sick.”

You nodded as you walked backward. As your back collided against something, a pair of hands held you by the arms.

Turning around, you found Damian mere inches away from you.

“I was just about to tell you we need to go.”

Damian nodded, eyes on something behind you. “I was about to tell you the same. Father called.”

“Mom did too.”

He tore his eyes off whatever he was staring at and settled them on your face. They traced your semblance for a few seconds. “It wouldn’t be wise to make them wait.”

“First time I fully agree with you.”

“And last, hopefully.”

“Surely.”

Neither of you made a sign to move first. At least not until the noise behind you reminded you of how badly you wanted to get out of there.

Damian refused to ever follow you and instead reached your side, walking beside you as you looked for Jess with your eyes.

She was nowhere to be seen. It was now or never.

Summer breeze and the particular stickiness it brought made you cringe as you walked down the street towards the car.

Damian broke the momentary silence, “He still likes you.”

“Mmmh?”

“Your ex,” Damian clarified. “His hugs linger for too long to be friendly.”

You now wondered just how long he had been waiting to tell you he wanted to leave. “Well, I won’t see him in who knows how many months.”

“Yet you tried to pull away before he did.” Details never slipped past Damian. “Did he do something to you?”

The question took you by surprise, so much so that you dropped your keys.

Damian picked them up and handed them to you.

You didn’t thank him, still considering the question. Seconds later, you reacted, “No, I don’t think so.”

Once you were home, Bruce told Damian he would stay the night and gave him permission to leave.

A part of you wanted him to stay so you wouldn’t be the only one feeling awkward. But he had important things to do, unlike you.

════════════════════════

You hated summer blockbuster season. The worst kind of people attended premiere night, and while children were annoying due to how messy they were, you preferred them over man-children.

You imagined their smug faces as they vague-tweeted about the movies which you knew for a fact was becoming so common that people discussed what those kinds of tweets could possibly mean before their screenings.

Spoiler culture was your enemy number two. If it had green eyes and an annoying accent, it might have taken the first spot.

Perhaps that was why Leo looked so surprised that you were early on a Thursday. He tilted his head, blue eyes examining you.

You walked behind him in order to place your belongings in their place.

“You’re here early.”

“Didn’t want to be alone,” you confessed in a mumble.

Leo gave you a sympathetic smile. “At least I’m not all alone with Alvin.”

“He’s not that bad,” you defended your reclusive coworker.

“He’s too quiet.”

You gasped in feigned offense. “Are you saying I talk too much?”

He smiled, this time fully, and you briefly wondered why had he never taken your breath away if he was far from ugly.

Then his teasing comment came and you completely understood why. “It’s part of what makes you my favorite.”

You liked being somebody’s favorite, and you liked seeing him like that easy-going guy you worked with who happened to be handsome.

And handsome he was. Blue eyes and blonde hair aside, his lips weren’t non-existent and his eyebrows had a cute shape — he took care of his appearance too which you were sure helped.

“You’ll miss the quiet once night falls,” you told him.

“As if you were any different.”

“Hey, I’m just selling tickets tonight...”

He pouted. “What if I need help with something? What then? Will you leave me to put up with indecisive dudes who can’t pick a candy bar without help?”

“Probably.” The giggle that escaped you betrayed you.

You did help him, and he kept you busy and out of your own head. You didn’t know what you would have done if you didn’t have that job — the money was good and the satisfaction even better, but in days where you didn’t want to think, it was an utter blessing.

The fact that you had made a close friend in Leo was a nice plus, an even bigger one now that Nate and Jess were gone.

Nate used to take you home when you had to work on premiere nights...

No, you shouldn’t be thinking about him, not now.

It wasn’t worth it, you found that the hard way that same afternoon which didn’t help the shitty day you had.

At least the day was over and your friend was walking you home.

“You’re...” Leo made a pause to find the right words. “Quiet tonight.”

“It was one of those days.”

“One of those days or one of those days?”

You slanted your head to look at him. “Are you asking me if I’m on my period?”

“I’m asking if you randomly fought Damian Wayne in the middle of the driveway or something stupid only you would do like challenging him to a Beyblade duel.”

“First of all, they’re called battles, not duels,” you explained, offended that he wouldn’t use the correct term. “And no, my day was Wayne-free.”

“You don’t sound too happy about that.”

You didn’t like the way such a thing sounded so you defended yourself by clarifying, “I’m not happy about mom being at home all day. I thought she’d go out on a vacation like last year.”

Your mom’s job as a chemist kept her busy on the daily. She wouldn’t be home too often when you were a kid either — your dad stayed at home most of the time while she worked, the perks of being a lawyer and all that.

You were used to being by yourself at home or going out as you pleased without being questioned.

Your mom wanted to know everything you did and why, and she loved giving her opinion on whether she found your activities worthwhile or not.

This summer was particularly tough and the fights didn’t help. Last summer hadn’t been an issue because she went to visit a childhood friend and left you home alone.

You halted your steps before a 24/7 convenience store. The shiny sign announcing they had donuts made you turn your face away from the front.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you told Leo. “Unless you’re having a free day?”

He shook his head and pointed the obvious, “This is not your house.”

“I’ll get there later.”

“Something bad could happen to you.”

“Nah. I’ve been around here even later than this.”

He sighed your name. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here by yourself.”

“I don’t wanna get home,” you confessed.

Leo hugged you by wrapping his arms around your neck. “The city isn’t safe, you know that.”

“I’ll be okay, really.”

He didn’t believe you, you knew because he hugged you even tighter. “I can stay,” he insisted, “dad doesn’t care if I get home even later.”

“I—“

Somebody interrupted you by clearing their throat. Leo let go of you so you could turn around.

Your breath got caught in your throat. Robin stood a couple of meters away from you, and you could only assume he was analyzing both you and Leo.

He was even taller in person. You were almost offended that the few photos around the internet made him look so short — you knew some of them were old, but not even the recent ones did him justice.

“See?” you spoke, eyes still on the vigilante in front of you while you talked to your friend, “Robin is around here. Nothing bad will happen to me.”

Leo placed his hand on your shoulder. “Have fun with your crush,” he whispered so only you could hear him.

Robin shifted on his feet. He heard Leo too.

You sat down on the big step, making sure to leave enough space between the ramp for wheelchairs and your body.

“I couldn’t help but hear you don’t want to get home.” Robin’s voice was soft although his tone was neutral. “It’s more than fine if you don’t want to speak about it. I just need to know if somebody hurt you.”

“Oh. No, no, I fought with my mom, that’s all.” Supposing that explaining yourself would ease his mind, you continued, “I’m starting college this year and she’s against the idea of me not living with her anymore. But everything’s ready for me to move, I think they already assigned me a dorm-mate.”

It was true that you were barely an adult, but she was the one who decided to treat you like one too soon. Now that you wanted to be your own person, she started having a problem with it.

Robin opened his palm as he advised you, “Lie to her and tell her you would need to spend a lot of time at the library doing projects. She might say yes that way.”

“Yeah, maybe...” Lying to her was easy, but getting her to understand your logic wasn’t. Looking up, you smiled at him and hoped it looked genuine because you truly meant it. “You can go do whatever you need to do, you know? I’m staying here for a little while.”

“It’s not safe.”

“I know, but I’m...” You shrugged, uncomfortable with admitting something else was going on.

“You’re what? Are you ill? Do you need a medic?”

“I dunno, upset?” You dropped your hands onto your lap and looked down at them. “I don’t wanna be home right now because I know for a fact mom’s going to make me feel worse.”

“You could ignore her...”

“It’s not that easy. I found out my best friends were on a date earlier and...” You shook your head. In all honesty, you didn’t want to talk about it. “I don’t know how to explain it. Forget I said anything. It’s nothing compared to what you have to do every night.”

Robin sat beside you, leaving a good chunk of space between you both, and cleared his throat. “Why do you care that much if they date or not?”

“I dated one of them first.”

He scoffed. “Your competitiveness never fails to make you look stupid.”

You froze upon recognizing his tone. No, it couldn’t be. No, no, no, no. This had to be a mistake. Your brain was getting stupid due to lack of oxygen or something.

Damian couldn’t be Robin. He was too stuck up to be a hero, and too full of himself to give a damn about other people, let alone the entire city.

“What?” His desperate bark only confirmed it.

“Did you turn your voice modulator off or something?”

“I think you’re confusing me with somebody else.”

His snotty gesture of chinning up as though offended was too familiar.

“Oh, don’t give me that! I would recognize your voice and that tone anywhere.”

“Which tone?” he asked, defensively.

“The one you only use with me!”

He groaned. For a moment you expected him to continue lying, but he actually extended his legs and planted his palms behind him to hold his weight and simply said, “I never use modulators. I’m good at imitating voices.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He had seen your lock screen! And he heard Leo’s teasing comment! Fuck. You wanted the ground to swallow you.

Maybe your mom was right and living on campus was a mistake. Maybe you also needed to move out of the country and change your legal name.

Silence had never irked you so much. He wasn’t even moving, his breath was inaudible unlike yours as your heart thumped in your chest.

Why couldn’t you have a crush on Nightwing instead?

“So Jessica and Nathaniel are dating?” he broke the silence.

You hummed. “She posted photos at the beach with him on Instagram.”

“Who goes to the beach for a date?”

You snorted. “Them, I guess.”

“Well,” he tried to be the voice of reason, “you have no right to be upset when you broke up with him.”

“He was going to move out of the State.”

“This is what I don’t understand...” He made a pause, lulling his head to the side to face you. “Why are you surprised if you knew they were both leaving Gotham and attending the same college?”

“They could have waited a little bit,” you blandly explained. It was obvious, only an idiot wouldn’t understand. “Make it less obvious, too.”

“The world can’t cater to your sensitivities. Much less if you don’t communicate them.”

“It’s common sense to not date your best friend’s ex.”

“No, it isn’t,” he insisted. “Not everybody cares about that.”

“So what? I need to toughen up?”

He pulled his bottom lip out. “You need to learn most things in your own life won’t be about you.”

“Since when are you supposedly wise?” you mocked him. He didn’t know anything about you or what you needed to learn, you couldn’t let his words get to you.

“Since I was forced to grow up,” he said honestly. “It’s not normal to be this upset about something everybody saw coming.”

“I liked being the one who had his attention,” you admitted. “I did more than her to earn it.” Immediately, you added, “Shit, that sounds—“

Damian interrupted, “Honest.”

“I was going to say ‘mean’.”

“Being honest isn’t being mean.”

“I hate cruelness disguised by honesty.” You were a victim of it when you were a child and becoming that person was not in your set of goals.

“Is that why you’re so fake all the time?”

“I’m not fake.”

“Why do your friends always leave you if it’s not due to your hypocrisy, then?”

God, did he ever shut the fuck up? He didn’t have to remind you everybody chose to leave you.

“Now you’re the one being cruel just because you can.”

“You have never met my cruel side.”

Well, you didn’t want to either. Yes, you disliked him, but you had never targeted his insecurities like that. Did he even have insecurities?

And to think he was supposed to be a hero! A hero who up until tonight you admired and even fantasized about.

You remembered those nights when you would imagine Robin sneaking into your room and cuddling you — you would hold your own hand imagining it was his enveloping yours.

Pre-teen you would hate to know the truth.

You pushed yourself to a standing position and dusted your jeans off with your palms.

He jumped onto his feet and waved his cape to clean it off too. “I’ll walk you.”

You shook your head, avoiding his partially masked face. “You don’t have to.”

Being around him didn’t sound appealing right now.

“Keeping people safe is my duty.”

“Even me?”

You wanted him to say no. You wanted him to shatter your fantasies completely already.

“Even you.”

The walk was excruciating. Never had three blocks felt so long before.

Thankfully, the front lights were on and your mom’s off. At least you wouldn’t have to fight her now.

You hurried to withdraw your keys, slowing your steps down as you struggled to find the right one.

Once set, you heard him call for you. “Hey...”

You craned your neck to acknowledge him. With your eyes on his hair, you said, “I won’t tell anybody, don’t worry.”

He gave you a single nod.

“Uhmmm...” You reconsidered your words, but then decided it was worth a shot. “Can everything I told you stay between us?”

“Yeah. We’ll be even that way.”

“Yeah,” you repeated.

The kitchen lights were on and the door to the patio was open. And so you braved yourself for another fight and followed the path towards the patio.

You coughed as the smoke of a cigarette hit your senses. Your mom looked at you, cigarette in hand and lighter in the other.

Hiding your worry would be pointless when she hadn’t smoked in years.

“You’re finally home.”

“Yeah, I—“

She interrupted you, “Next time, tell Robin to fuck off.”

“Wh—“ You cleared your burning throat. “He just walked me home from the convenience store...”

“The neighbors got worried when they saw him around.” She looked away from you, down to the ashtray. As you followed her gaze, your worry grew. Just how long had she been out there smoking? The ashtray was full. “I received dozens of calls.”

Your neighbors were nosy, you had hated most of them since you moved in. Much like your mom, they liked to pretend they lived in a different city, where crime and poverty were nonexistent.

“I didn’t think about that,” you rasped.

Nodding, your mom squashed the butt of the cigarette. “Just don’t let anybody, anywhere, see you with him.”

You tilted your head. She looked nervous and tired, so you relented, “Yes, mom. Won’t happen again.”

════════════════════════

Your mom couldn’t even make you company as you moved. She was loaded with work, she said, which you didn’t doubt per se, but you would have liked her to be there.

Jason offered to help, using the fact that he and Dick would be there either way for Damian as an excuse. You didn’t know the brat would live at campus until Jason told you.

Your neck grew hot as you read your dorm-mate’s name. Perhaps having a friend of Damian’s close was a bad thing because —well, because of him— but you could make an exception for Rachel.

She was already getting settled when you arrived, arranging her desk.

Jason was relieved, he said you were in good hands. His reaction made you pull him into a tight hug. He laughed softly and hugged you even tighter.

You used to want to have an older brother, and you always imagined he would hug you like this. Unrealistic according to what you had observed in sibling dynamics, but extremely nice.

But he had to go. He was supposed to be there for Damian and not for you.

You started to get settled too, working silently. In a sense, having Rachel as a dorm-mate was an advantage. While you didn’t really know each other, she wasn’t a complete stranger and you wouldn’t have to worry about certain things.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, you know?”

You hummed in acknowledgement as you figured out the way you’d store your clothes. Once sure, you turned around. “You’ve heard bad things, I assume.”

She laughed and cocked her head. “Depends on your point of view.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I haven’t heard anything bad about you.”

“Well, it’s not like Damian talks about me, does he?”

You shook your head. You had never heard Damian talk about his friends — he complained about Jon sometimes, but you always assumed it was part of their friendly banter.

Perhaps he did talk about them, just not with you. But you doubted it.

Either way, you quickly found that Rachel was easy to talk to and pleasant to be around so he was missing out.

She was nice, and polite, and although she would turn serious out of nowhere sometimes, she went out of her way to be kind.

You shared classes with Garfield, her boyfriend, and he was fun to be around, nice too. You didn’t even know they were dating until she told you, but it made sense.

The first week made you reconsider every decision you had made, but by the second you were able to see things more clearly. Well, that was until your mom called to remind you about visiting your grandma that weekend.

Your grandma wanted to meet Bruce, as though she hadn’t read everything about him in gossip magazines, so your mom thought it would be great if Damian and you arrived together, that way Bruce and her could spend more time together.

As if things couldn’t get worse, you remembered you needed help to look the way your grandma liked.

Pleasing her for a few hours was easier than fighting her. You didn’t want to give her a heart attack.

So you asked Rachel for help on Friday.

“Can you teach me how to do my makeup?” You avoided her eyes as you explained, “My mom and Jess always did it for me and I don’t like it that much so I never... paid attention.”

“It’s okay,” she softly answered. “But we need a few things. And help.”

“Help?!”

“Shhhh.” She took your hand. “It’s just Kori.”

You relaxed. “Oh. Okay.”

“You got any money on you?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. We need to find your shade and then we’ll see.”

Kori was willing to help. She was a little too excited about it, but you tried to see her reaction as a positive.

Everything was less positive once you had to find a shade that went with your skin tone. It was overwhelming and the lighting from the store didn’t help.

Rachel and Kori were patient as you messed up. They made it look way easier than it was.

“Try pretending you like it,” Kori suggested. “You’ll do it better if you think you enjoy doing it.”

You followed every tip they gave you, every instruction. By the end of the night, your makeup looked decent enough. At least in your opinion.

”Does that look okay?”

“Just blend it a little bit more,” Rachel instructed.

You did as she told you and wouldn’t you know it, she was right and it now looked a little better than decent.

Kori gave her approval too. She then commented, “We’re going to the beach next weekend. Do you want to come?”

You hesitated before answering.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to or are busy,” she quickly assured you.

“I have work on Sunday.”

“What about Saturday?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell them you weren’t fond of beaches. They had helped you out and been patient, the less you could do was go with them.

Night flew by. Come morning, you woke up way too early to be a Saturday and went out for a walk.

The thought of your grandma not liking Damian nor Bruce was so absurd that you didn’t even entertain it. Both of them were exactly the type of people she wanted around. They were perfect, and she was obsessed with perfection.

Which was a big problem for you. She saw a lot of imperfections in you since you were a child. She made you hate the color pink, put you on a ridiculous diet when you were eight, and forced you to wear clothes that made you feel insecure because of the doubts she had planted in you.

You knew better than defying her. Fights weren’t worth it when you could look like what she deemed a proper lady for a few hours every couple of months. You looked good in skirts anyway.

That knowledge didn’t stop you from whining when Damian knocked on the door. At least you assumed it was him.

Rachel placed a hand on your shoulder. “You look great, I promise.”

You believed her. Making sure your phone was in your purse, you opened the door.

“What took you so lo—“ Damian frowned upon observing what you were wearing.

“Shut up.”

He lifted both hands in a surrendering gesture.

Rachel closed the door for you, leaving you alone with Damian. You didn’t have anything to say to him so you simply waited for him to start walking.

And he did, letting you trail behind him. You hurried your steps to reach his side, despising the idea of going around the entire place following him like a lost puppy.

While walking, he asked, “Are you sure those shoes are comfortable?” He looked down at your shoes. “You can still put another pair on.”

You looked down too before lifting your head once again. “Believe it or not, I know how to walk in high heels.” When he didn’t say anything else, you changed the subject, “Did Bruce give you the address?”

“Why would he give me the address when you can drive us there?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a long story, but I can’t drive today.”

He balled his hand up in a fist before stretching his fingers and inhaling deeply. “Fine. Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“I need my keys.”

“You don’t need me there to get them.”

Damian clenched his jaw. “Don’t move, then.”

Great, now you also had to put up with a grumpy gremlin.

Thankfully, he hurried up and you wouldn’t be late.

Bruce and your mom where already there when you arrived. You looked down at your watch just to double check that you were on time. You were.

Your mom fixed Bruce’s tie, giving him a sweet smile as she did so. She then moved towards you and smoothed your skirt for you before grabbing you by the chin to check your makeup.

Amused, you watched as she attempted to find something wrong with Damian’s appearance. He glared at you upon realizing you were trying not to laugh as your mom did the first button of his shirt.

You would never blame her for trying to asphyxiate him, but you had to admit she was going too far.

Damian and you stood behind your mom and Bruce, waiting for your grandma to open the door.

You braced yourself as she fiddled with the lock, almost teasing you as if she needed to play with her prey before hunting it.

The door swung open and she squealed. Your mom was pulled into a quick hug before being told to get inside.

She then took Bruce by the face. “I knew my daughter would eventually get a good boyfriend.”

You assumed he smiled as he told her it was a pleasure to meet her. Damian and you turned to look at each other, already aware that he was lying. He pursed his lips in an attempt to keep his laugh at bay and the gesture prompted you to do the same.

“It’s good to see that you’re getting along with your brother.”

You almost stopped breathing at that. In fact, you would have preferred to cease breathing than listen to such a stupid thing.

“Hi, grandma.” You kissed her cheek.

She took you by both hands. “You look so pretty when you dress like a lady.”

“Thank you.”

As she dropped your hands, she moved to the side so you would get inside.

You couldn’t see what she was doing, but you heard her tell Damian he was as handsome as Bruce.

She closed the door after Damian came in and placed a hand on your shoulder while the other rested on his. “I left a jug of lemonade in the garden for you. The adults have to talk about adult things and—“

“Thank you, grandma,” you interrupted her, moving away from her touch.

Damian stared at you, confused.

You swallowed a sigh and tugged on his sleeve. “Come, Damian, I’ll show you around.”

The garden looked the same it always had. Your grandma hated change, so much that when things needed to be replaced she went out of her way to find the exact same model or color. It was kind of depressing.

You sat at the table, thankful for the giant umbrella that was now shielding you from the scorching sun, and placed your purse next to the tray at the center.

Damian sat beside you. “Is she always...”

You helped him out, “A bitch? Yeah. She hated dad.”

“I assume she hates Mike too.”

You poured him a glass of lemonade before poring one for yourself. “She doesn’t even talk to my aunt because of him.”

“I never met any of my grandmothers, “ he said, drawing a random pattern all over his glass, “but I don’t think they were like that.”

“Your mom was allowed to study whatever she liked?”

Damian considered the question. “In a sense, yes. Your mother wasn’t?”

“No. Grandma has strong opinions about everything and she has always thought certain professions to be exclusively for men.”

“But your mother is a chemist...”

“Yeah, and grandma doesn’t complain now because mom gives her everything she wants.”

You took a gulp of lemonade and watched him do the same. “When I was a kid, I wanted to be a marine biologist and she made a big fuss about it. It was a childhood dream and nothing else, but she doesn’t see things that way.”

“You seem like the archeologist type.”

“Nope. I’ve always wanted to hug a shark.”

“You wanted to be a marine biologist just because you wanted to hug a shark?”

“I want to hug a shark. Some dreams never die.”

“You want to die hugging a shark.”

“I guess? I mean, they’re not as bad as people think, you must know that. And they’re huggable, although they can’t hug back which is tragic.”

His lips twitched. “They can bump heads with you, I suppose.”

“Imagine that! They’re so cute.”

“They’re not bad.”

“Big animals are naturally huggable. Bears, elephants... and bears can actually hug back! Cows are nice too, I’ve hugged a few.”

“I have too.”

“You... have?” Had you heard him wrong?

“I had a pet cow.”

“You’re joking.”

“I am not.”

“What was her name? Was she nice?”

“She was really nice.” He withdrew his phone and scrolled for a few seconds. He showed you the screen and there he was —or a miniature version of him, better said— next to a cow in what looked like a makeshift cow stable. “Her name was Batcow.”

“Such a cutie!” You cleared your throat. “The cow, I mean.”

He hummed. “She got along quite well with my dog and my cat.”

After a few swipes, he showed you photos of his late Great Dane. “Titus was a sweet dog,” he sighed, “I still miss him to this day.”

“He must’ve liked you a lot.” What were you saying?

“I trained him to attack at my command and for some reason the training made him even sweeter.” Damian shifted, locking the phone and putting it down as he now stared at you while speaking. “He became more playful even though he was supposed to just...”

“Animals are smart.” You were looking at him too. “Maybe Titus assumed he was supposed to protect, not just attack for the hell of it.”

His eyes didn’t move from yours, and for the first time you realized they weren’t purely green. Everybody babbled about his emerald eyes all the time when their golden specks were the breathtaking part.

His breath caressed your skin. Your eyes fell to his nose, then lingered on his lips. They weren’t chapped nor dry which wasn’t as common as you wished it was.

Damian parted his lips, prompting your eyes to go back up to his. But his weren’t up anymore.

“What about you?” he softly asked.

Maybe if you had met him in a different circumstance you too would have attacked others to protect him.

Wait, no. That couldn’t have been what he meant with that question.

You looked away from him and grabbed your glass. “I, uh, I had a dog as a kid, but that’s it.” After taking a tiny sip, you added, “Mom’s not a fan of having pets and dad didn’t really care.”

“We could have a dog.”

“Huh?”

“I mean...” Damian reached for his glass too. “Each of us could take care of a dog if we wanted.”

“I guess, yeah.”

“I suppose you have Leo and I have Jon.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Are you trying to be mean or cute?”

“You decide.”

“Mean,” you lied.

“Fair enough.” This time he was the one who filled your glasses. “Have you talked with Jessica?”

“We’ve... exchanged words.”

He snorted. “Are you really ruining your friendship for him?”

“Of course not. I— it’s my fault.”

He gazed at you as he drank lemonade with both eyebrows raised, waiting for you to explain yourself.

“I didn’t say goodbye properly and she’s offended.”

He offered a quick solution, “Make it up to her.”

“In case you forgot, she isn’t here.”

“Visit her.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“I can drive you if you want. I know the area.”

Your grandma called for you before you could reply. “Dinner is ready.”

“We’ll be there in a second,” you assured her as you put your glass back onto the tray.

You took Damian’s glass and put it on the tray too before standing up. You secured your purse in your grasp then reached over for the tray.

Damian was quicker. “Let me.”

“I should do it.”

He took the tray in both hands before you could grip the edge. “I insist.”

Your grandma glowered at you for not carrying the tray, but she didn’t dare to make a scene in front of Bruce and Damian.

You didn’t know who was more eager to go, Damian, Bruce, or you. But your mom’s face made you feel bad when the moment arrived.

It must have been hard for her to know her boyfriend didn’t want to be around her mom.

Even you were surprised. Bruce didn’t strike you as somebody who judged people so quickly. Then again, your grandma was so judgmental herself that she pushed people away all the time.

“Damian,” Bruce said sternly once outside, “a word.”

They crossed the street to speak privately and in the meantime, your mom trapped you in a bear hug.

There was something off about the way your mom said goodbye. You were used to being hugged by her in front of other people, but not this tightly.

You wanted to ask if something was wrong, but you feared offending her. Besides, why would you complain about an affectionate hug when she gave them sparingly?

”I’ll see you next weekend,” she reminded you.

You nodded. “For dinner?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll go out with my... friends... so I might be a little late. Is that okay?”

She looked relieved. “Just call or text.”

Bruce and your mom waited for you and Damian to get into the car before doing so themselves. Still, they left first.

You fastened your seatbelt and placed your purse on your lap. Turning to the side, you watched Damian type something quickly on his phone.

When he was done, he turned to look at you too.

You asked, “Did they seem weird to you?”

“You just realized?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know how to explain it. They look weird together.”

“I thought you liked her.”

“I don’t have anything against your mother,” he clarified.

“Then weird how?”

He shrugged and shook his head. “I’ll tell you when I figure out what it is.”

You were desperate to know if he meant it, if he would really drive you just so you could mend a mistake — if he truly thought that it was worth it, if he didn’t hate how big of a hypocrite you were being.

But you didn’t. In part because you weren’t ready for his answer, and in part because your potential reaction to the truth terrified you.

Letting him have any sort of effect on yo would be your demise. He already knew too much, surely even more than you assumed due to Bruce’s relationship with your mom.

Damian walked you to your dorm, respecting the silence you had bestowed upon both of you.

And just then you felt the need to say something. “Uh... thanks for making it bearable.”

“Likewise.”

You nodded. “Yeah, no problem.”

“I’ll see you later.”

For the first time in your life, you were almost okay with that. Just because you didn’t get to tease him about how short he was as a kid, of course.

════════════════════════

You rested your chin on your hand as you listened to Leo complain about his screenwriting professor.

It was too early to hear him complain and you couldn’t wait for the afternoon. While you didn’t like beaches, you were sick of being inside so a beach would do at this point.

“Am I boring you?”

“No. I’m listening.”

“You’re looking at your weekly crush.”

“I’m not looking at anybody.” Your tore your eyes off your German classmate and stared at your friend. “And I heard everything you said.”

Leo’s freckles were more prominent under the cafeteria’s lighting.

“You should be an actor,” you told him.

“I want to make films, not appear in them.” He glanced at where you had been staring and snorted. “You and people with accents...”

You chose to ignore his latter comment. “Yeah, but you have actor eyes.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“I’m just saying you’re not taking advantage of them baby blues. Filmmakers loooooove blue eyes.”

“I’ll become an actor if you become a model.”

“No way in hell.” You adamantly shook your head. “You would have to pay me soooooooooo much money to make me maybe consider going through that.”

“There are models in different sizes, you drama queen.”

“Oh, I know, that’s not the issue. But having to start by being around creepy men that fetishize fat people... no thanks.”

“I’m just saying you’re not taking advantage of your pretty face,” he mimicked your words.

You playfully shoved him to the side. “The pretty clothes would be nice, but no. Maybe I should be the actress and you should be the model, then.”

“You’re a master of theatricalities, it would suit you.”

“Put me in your films, then.”

He swirled his iced coffee. “I might! You’ll be the De Niro to my Scorsese.”

“More like the Octavia Spencer to your Tate Taylor.”

“Well, now that’s settled, we’re remaking Ma.”

You made grabby hands at him and he handed you the cup.

You sucked on the straw and made a face. That was too sweet even for Leo’s standards. “Only if I get to choose who plays the teenager I make out with.”

He leaned to whisper in your ear, “We can cast Damian as the guy you kill by cutting his dick off.”

You threw your head back as you laughed. He shook with laughter as he hid his face in his forearms.

Your laugh only simmered down when somebody approached your table. Leo lifted his head and you saw his face properly light up.

You had seen the guy in front of you before, he was studying film just like Leo and he hung out with Damian’s group. You had never seen him interact with Damian, though.

“Hey, Wally,” Leo cheerfully greeted his classmate. “What’s up?”

Wally smiled brightly. “I thought you’d be at work.”

“Free day,” Leo explained in a soft voice. “I lined my schedule up with (Name) here, but she’s ditching me today.”

Humming, Wally turned to you as he asked, “Have you seen Damian?”

“No.”

He gripped his hair. “Do you know where I can find him?”

You stuttered. “Why are you asking me and not one of your friends in common?”

“Rachel said you could know where he was.”

Leo snickered beside you. You elbowed him on the side.

“I don’t. You should try calling him.”

Wally twisted his mouth. “I don’t have his number.”

“Well, I don’t have it either so I can’t help you, but Jon is your safest bet.”

He made a face and nodded. “Thank you.” His eyes were on your friend. “I’ll see you later, Leo.”

“Take care, Wally!”

You watched Wally leave and immediately shifted to face your friend. Leo lifted his eyebrows, silently telling you to stay quiet.

But how could you? “When are you telling him you like him?”

“Never.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I think he likes his dorm-mate.”

“Trying won’t hurt you.” You looked at the time in your phone. “Walk with me?”

He stood up and, still carrying his overly sweet iced coffee, walked beside you.

“It hurt with my ex,” he reminded you. “Who, by the way, is also his ex.”

You took your time, walking slowly. “Worst thing that can happen is that he breaks your heart and you get an idea for a script.”

“You need help.”

“He looks at you like a lovesick puppy,” you assured him. “Just give it a shot.”

“What about you? Apart from your weekly crush, obviously.”

“I’m focused on my studies.”

Leo chortled, shaking his head. “God, I hope you believe yourself when you say that because nobody else will.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip. “I might like somebody, but I’m not sure.”

“Is it Rachel?”

“Not anymore. I don’t wanna get my heart broken.”

Leo stopped in his tracks and pulled his cellphone out. He bit his bottom lip. “Wally wants to hang out.”

“Go.” You gave him a teasing smile. “And remember what I told you.”

“About my gorgeous blue eyes?”

“Selective hearing is ruining our friendship,” you jokingly said.

He brought you in for a hug. “I’ll think about it.”

“Mmhmm. Have fun today.”

“You too,” he said as he let go of you.

All by yourself, you followed the path towards your hall. Soon everybody around you would be in a relationship and you hated the idea of being the third wheel so you would need to get used to be by yourself from time to time.

“There you are,” Damian said behind you.

Assuming he was talking to you, you turned around. One of his hands was in his pocket, surely bandaged.

“Your mother said you weren’t answering your phone. She wanted you to know she’ll be late for dinner.”

There were no missed calls nor unread texts when you checked your phone earlier, and as you made sure you hadn’t missed anything, you confirmed she hadn’t made contact.

“She didn’t call at all and she knows I’m going out.”

“Just telling you what she said.”

You nodded. “Wally was looking for you earlier.”

“What did he want?”

“Fuck if I know. I’m not your assistant so I didn’t ask.”

Damian stepped closer to you. “Are you volunteering for the job?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’ll eventually need an assistant.” Was it your imagination or was he even closer? “My father has one, Drake does too.”

You lightly bit your tongue, shifting in your feet. “I’m sure there are many people who actually want the position.”

He was definitely closer. His tired eyes stared into yours as he said, ”I’m still putting you on top of the list.”

You understood why he covered his eyes completely. There was no way people wouldn’t realize he was Robin the second they gazed into his almond-shaped eyes.

“One would think you would be above nepotism.”

He almost smiled. “I make exceptions.”

“Awww, am I that special?”

His lips almost touched yours as he replied, “Perhaps.”

You parted your lips, whistling by mistake as you inhaled. He either wanted to taunt you or for you to meet his lips in the middle. You hoped it was the latter.

The door beside you opened.

“Oh!”

You turned to the side and Damian pulled away from you.

“Ready, girls?”

“Yeah,” Rachel answered. “I took a peek in your bag and you had forgotten your sunscreen so I dropped it in there.”

“Thank you.”

Kori looked at Damian, then at you. “Were you about to—“

You interrupted her, “No.”

“Call your mother and tell her to stop leaving you messages with me,” Damian said drily, “I’m not your assistant.”

He walked away without any other word or even a glance to Kori and Rachel.

“Fucking asshole,” you mumbled.

“Tell it to my face,” he yelled from down the hallway.

Kori giggled, but she still grabbed your arm and tugged on it. “Let’s go, I need to be under the sun.”

Hoping your hands weren’t shaking, you stuck one in your pocket and pulled your keys out. “Any of you want to drive?”

Rachel snatched the keys from your grasp and grinned at you. The look on her face almost made you regret asking. Almost.

Just like for the second time in a single week you almost kissed Damian. But this time you truly wanted to — whether it was simple curiosity or something else, you really wanted to kiss him.

What were you thinking? Your mom was dating his dad.

Things were changing everywhere, it seemed. The beach had never looked as pretty as it did at that moment.

Kids were allowed in again which spoke volumes about its state.

“This place is way cleaner than I remember it being,” you commented.

Kori wasn’t impressed. “Really?”

“Yup, the smell used to be unbearable and everything was littered with plastics.”

“Ah, I remember Damian complained about the plastics.”

“Can we not talk about him?” you pleaded.

“Yes!” Rachel interlocked an arm with yours and the other with Kori’s. “No boy talk allowed today.”

Thank God.

It didn’t matter if boy talk was allowed or not. Damian was the only thing in your mind.

You wondered if he knew what he was doing, if perhaps he was trying to treat you like he treated the girls that used to swarm around him. Then again, he admitted it was unorthodox... but why would he care about being orthodox with you?

Kori enjoyed the beach way more than either Rachel or you did. She said she felt the happiest when she was under the sun and it showed.

You felt bad when the time to go came. You did want to leave, but not at the expense of Kori’s happiness. With the promise of coming back soon, you got back into the car.

Just to be sure, you tried calling your mom. She didn’t pick up.

Your phone buzzed half an hour later and you expected to see your mom’s contact photo, but you didn’t.

Unknown Number: Still at the beach?

Who could know you would visit the beach outside of your friend group? Answering was a bad idea, but you were curious.

Wrong number.

It’s Damian.

You scared me.

What do you want?

I was told you didn’t have my number.

I never said I wanted to have it.

You already do anyway.

What are you doing right now?

Him being a double-texter was the most shocking thing you knew about him.

I’m waiting for my order at a restaurant. I’m having dinner with mom.

Good luck with that.

What do you mean?

She was in a bad mood when I left the manor.

Do you know why?

No.

Do you have work tomorrow?

Yes.

You didn’t tell me what you were doing.

You never asked.

I’m with Jon, watching a TV series he likes.

You’re technically not watching.

Priorities.

You caught yourself about to smile.

You really love annoying me, huh.

You saw the three dots that signaled he was typing and looked to the side for a brief moment. When your eyes went back to the screen, the dots were gone and his reply was nowhere to be seen.

He started typing again and you felt your breath hitch.

Yes.

Okay, maybe having his attention wasn’t that bad. But you wouldn’t have it for too long, your order was ready.

I gotta drive. Pay attention to your friend, he deserves it.

Your mom’s car was parked in its usual spot. Well, at least she was home.

You turned a light on to see where you were stepping. Assuming she was in her room, you left the food on the table and trotted up the stairs.

You knocked on her bedroom door. “It’s me. Can I come in?”

“Come in.”

Sticking your head in, you told her, “I brought your favorite.”

She didn’t take her eyes off the TV as she replied, “I’m not hungry.”

You pushed the door open to get inside. Feeling the AC on, you closed the door behind you.

She was already wearing her sleeping attire and the bed was undone. You didn’t recognize whatever was playing on the screen but it had to be a TV series because the scene currently playing was clearly recorded in a studio.

You furrowed your brow as your eyes fell on her again. “Do you want me to drive you to the hospital?”

“I’m not sick.”

Trying not to sigh, knowing how much she hated when you did it, you scratched the back of your head. “Mom, I’m trying to help you, but I can’t read minds. You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“Bruce and I broke up.”

“That’s...” ‘That’s great’ you wanted to say. But you didn’t. “What happened?”

“He lied to me.” Her voice turned colder as she explained, “All those times he said he was out for business... He’s a criminal!”

“Mom, vigilantism isn’t ilegal.”

“You knew?” she screeched, reminding you of your grandma.

“Damian told me.”

“Damian hates you.”

It stung. For the first time, hearing the way he felt about you hurt. You knew it to be the truth, you’d seen it in his eyes and heard it in his snarl, but you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping he had gotten over it like you had.

When did it happen, you didn’t know, but hate was long gone. And if it had happened to you, he had to at least tolerate you now.

You would never be sure, though. He was too big of a contradiction. Much like the way you felt about him.

“Yeah, he does.” You swallowed your spit. “But I found out by mistake and he couldn’t deny it.”

“And my own daughter didn’t have the decency to tell me.”

“I promised I wouldn’t.”

“Since when do you care about Damian?”

Everything turned into a fight with her. She was worse than Damian himself.

“It’s not about him. I don’t like breaking promises.”

“You would have saved me a lot of pain.”

“Is it really that bad that he’s a vigilante?” You voiced your opinion, “It’s not like he goes around the city killing people.”

“You’re too young to understand.”

There it was again. You were too young when she wanted to be right and too old when she needed you to fuck off so she could be comfortable.

“You must be happy,” she lamented, “you were right. I should have listened to you when you said Damian was bad news.”

“I only said it because everybody prefers him over me.” Your words and the truth they carried hit you as you uttered them. “I don’t think he’s a bad person.”

“People like them need to be stopped, sweetheart. They have too much power.” She patted the bed so you’d sit.

You did so, already feeling bad for being happy that she was single again. “Rich people or vigilantes?”

“Vigilantes.”

She was so close to get what the problem was, and yet...

“Now you can truly stay away from him like you wanted.”

Now that you didn’t want to. “Yeah.”

Now you could truly say you were fucked.

════════════════════════

As if the universe was finally on your side, you didn’t even have to avoid Damian all week. You heard in passing that he was out of town with permission from the school.

But something felt off. Not seeing him roll his eyes at Garfield’s stupid jokes or absentmindedly nodding when Jon couldn’t stop talking bothered you.

You often made excuses to not have lunch at the same place as him, but the empty seat between Jon and Kori was awful to see.

Rachel tried to get you to sit there on Tuesday, knowing Damian was the only reason why you didn’t spend more time with them, and you had to hide from her the entire day.

At work, you were stuck with Alvin on Friday. Leo called in sick, saying he had caught the flu. You knew he wasn’t feeling well, but the flu had nothing to do with it.

Hanging out with Wally wasn’t as positive for him as you thought. Apparently, both of you were right — Wally did like Leo, he also liked his dorm-mate. Your friend decided to stay friends with him and let him pursue his dorm-mate.

Alvin wasn’t so bad. He was polite and sweet, but he wasn’t that talkative so you got bored easily around him.

Thankfully for you, Alice dropped by. She often chaperoned her niece, so you were used to seeing her around, but this time she stopped to chat.

“I got your text last week,” she told you, “but my phone fell into a bucket of paint and I didn’t get to reply. I’m waiting for a new one.”

“It happens, don’t worry.”

She smiled, bright as always. “The good news is that everything’s coming up well. Very quickly, too.”

You didn’t know what everything meant. “Sorry, what are we talking about?”

“The shelter,” she explained and while she didn’t utter it, you could hear the ‘duh’ in her tone.

“Oh! Really? You said you’d call me so I would help you raise funds.”

“Damian is paying for everything. Didn’t he tell you?”

“I— uh—“ You forced a smile. “We’re not that close.”

She lifted both eyebrows, lightly widening her eyes in surprise. “You had never taken someone to a camp so I thought...”

“He was curious,” you explained your excuse. “And I’m glad his curiosity lead to something good.”

“He also makes sure the camp doesn’t have to be relocated while construction for the shelter is done.”

That was nice of him.

“Is there anything I can help with?”

“I need help with meals, but I’m guessing you can’t cook in a dorm...”

You were about to shake your head. “I can help on Saturdays. Mom’s not home that often, I’m sure she won’t mind if I use our kitchen.”

“Can you help tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

Your mom didn’t care if you used the kitchen or not. She wouldn’t even be home the entire day.

Being at home didn’t feel right. Everything was too big for two people already, but the dead silence was the worst part.

Music could only do so much when everything bounced against the walls.

Once again you thought about Damian.

You wondered if he liked doing mundane things. Had he ever painted a room? Did he know how to cook?

You knew many things about him, but you were craving to learn him.

The Universe wasn’t on your side. If it was, you would have fallen for somebody else.

On Monday, Rachel’s eyes were on you as you did your hair. You didn’t think much of it at first, you often watched her do random stuff.

However, you saw concern in her eyes when you moved around to put your brush down.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. Why? Do I look bad?”

She swatted a hand. “Don’t mind me.”

She knew. She had to.

You trusted Rachel, but she befriended Damian first. If you knew somebody liked a friend of yours, you would tell them, so it was safe to assume she would too.

Had you been too obvious? When had this started? Did it matter?

You needed to stop this.

Jon smiled at you as you walked near him and you could only wave at him in greeting.

At first, you had been irked by the fact that Kat —your classmate— had tagged along, but you were sure Jon would have made small talk if she wasn’t with you.

She wasn’t that bad, honestly. You let her talk about whatever she wanted and you found that she wasn’t as annoying as you assumed when you met her.

She worked at the mall Starbucks so at least now you had somebody else to walk with.

Leo was squatting down as he arranged cups and lids. You stood next to him, resting your elbow on the counter.

“Can you refill the napkin holders?” he asked.

At the same time, you told him, “I need you to date me.”

Leo looked up, not even shocked by your words. “No.”

“Leo, please. It doesn’t have to be a real thing!”

He stood up, pointing at the napkin holders. “I said no. Who are you trying to make jealous, anyway?”

You opened a holder and then ripped a bag of napkins open. “I’m trying to stop liking somebody.”

He watched you drop a stack of napkins on top of another and put the lid back on. “Don’t tell me you got rejected too.”

“I didn’t.” Deciding to open every napkins holder and fill them all instead of one by one, you moved the sauce bottles out of the way. “I just... need to get him out of my head.”

“Do I know him?”

You nodded, pursing your lips. “Promise you won’t laugh if I tell you who it is.”

“I promise.”

You took your time to tell him. Suddenly filling napkin holders was imperative. But it was an easy task, quick.

Expectant, Leo helped you put the napkin holders in their respective places across the counter and at the tables.

“It’s Damian,” you told him as you kneeled to fix a loose stool.

“Uh—“ Leo stuttered, “I don’t...” He let out a small laugh. “Wow.”

“I don’t want to like him.” You grimaced looking down at your dirty hand. “Get me a wet cloth, please.”

“You don’t choose who you like.” He stretched his harm, took the cloth he had used earlier, and gave it to you.

“I should be able to.”

“It doesn’t work like tha—“

You scoffed, interrupting him. “You don’t get it.”

“No, I don’t. You like him, so what?”

You folded the dirty cloth and handed it to him. “I should hate him.”

Leo breathed out your name, arming himself with patience. “You should be glad you don’t hate him. Do you want to be stuck your entire life with the same grudges and the same opinions?”

“No.” Again on your feet, you walked towards the sink in order to wash your hands.

Leo stood nearby so you’d hear him. “This is good. Liking him might be scary, but it’s good, you’re changing and growing.”

“Yeah.” You dried your hands on your jeans. “But why him?”

“Why not? He’s not ugly.”

“No, he isn’t. But...” Looking up at your friend, you twisted your mouth.

“You’re running out of excuses,” he asserted.

“I just don’t want to like him. It could be anybody else and I would be okay with it.”

“Tough luck, it’s him.”

“It should be Rachel.”

“It should be whoever makes you feel butterflies and all that shit.”

You wouldn’t call them butterflies — well, maybe when he wasn’t being snotty, but you couldn’t say he didn’t make you feel something.

“I think we almost kissed. Twice, maybe? And... I don’t know, it’s weird. What if he’s just fucking with my head?”

“Does he go around trying to kiss everybody?”

“Not that I know of. But maybe this is like a prank or he could be trying to humiliate me.”

He elbowed you so you’d follow him. “He could also just really want to kiss you.”

“You’re not helping!”

“Ask him.” He pushes the door to the first room open and held it so you’d enter first.

You hated inspecting the rows to make sure everything was clean because you often had to clean stuck gum from under the seats.

Feeling him walk beside you, you told him, “I’m not going to ask him. Are you insane?”

“You told me to talk to Wally.”

“Damian doesn’t look at me the way Wally looks at you.”

“No,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean much, does it?”

“I guess not.”

You hadn’t truly fought with Damian in a while and he even offered to drive you just so you could fix your relationship with Jess. That had to mean something.

But you didn’t need him to fix your relationship with Jess. You could always call and apologize. Why hadn’t you done so already?

“Are you okay?”

“I hate myself for feeling like this.”

Leo rubbed your upper back with one hand. “It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with liking him.”

Your mom wouldn’t say the same.

════════════════════════

You should have left with Rachel and Garfield, yet in your desperation to not be the third wheel, you said you’d leave with Leo.

And you would, at least that was the plan. But Leo was late and he wasn’t answering your texts.

He told you he would be with a few classmates doing something for a class —you forgot which one— and he also promised he would be free by 6:00 pm.

At this point, your only chance to know if he was still busy or not was to contact one of his classmates. If only you had Wally’s number.

Maybe Damian had it... but you didn’t want to talk to Damian.

Avoiding him wasn’t on the top of your list per se, you just knew it to be for the best.

After your conversation with Leo, you decided that a pair of pretty eyes and a smooth voice weren’t worth ruining the little resemblance to a relationship you had with your mom.

Stupidly, you still jumped at the chance to interact with him and texted him.

Is Wally with you?

Sadly.

Could you please ask him if he knows where Leo is?

Scared another friend left you?

You couldn’t believe you liked such an asshole.

Your friends don’t even like you, worry about that.

Being in the same place as him later would be unbearable, but you would lie if you said you weren’t looking forward to bring the hostility back. Your mom would be happy.

But Jon arrived without Damian, and you weren’t the only one who took note of it.

He was supposed to be there. He was supposed to be standing beside Jon, making faces as people approached him. He was supposed to annoy you with his presence and make you wish you hadn’t left your dorm.

But Damian was nowhere to be seen for no reason at all and it pissed you off.

Your head was on Leo’s bicep which didn’t stop him from laughing freely, making the untouched drink in your hand shake.

You placed the cup on the table and stood up. Leo sent you a questioning glance, but you merely shook your head. You didn’t want to ruin his night, not when he had so much on his shoulders already.

You snatched your jacket and said goodbye to your friends, lying about a headache.

Your headache was either busy protecting the city or doing something more important than annoying you. How dare he.

Rachel briefly stopped you. “Can you check on Damian on your way to the dorm?”

“Is he sick?”

“Nobody knows. He said he’d come, multiple times, but he is ignoring our texts.” She gnawed in her bottom lip and laughed. “He’s probably being dramatic, but just to make sure...”

You took your phone out and gave it a try.

Are you dead?

The message didn’t get delivered. Rachel made it sound like hers had gone through, so he had probably blocked you.

Pursing your lips, you nodded. “Go back and have fun.”

Having expected a different answer, Rachel stood glued to her place.

“I mean it,” you assured her.

She blinked rapidly. “Sure. Be careful.”

Whether she meant to be careful with Damian or on your way to campus was meaningless at this point. You thanked her and started walking to avoid more awkwardness.

You didn’t want her to know how shitty you felt at the idea of being blocked by him, or how weird it was to not see him everywhere.

You also didn’t want to show how bad you felt for telling him his friends didn’t like him.

The white door, identical to every other door nearby, felt uninviting. You weren’t wanted there, you’d known so before even entertaining the idea of doing what Rachel asked of you.

It was such a shame that you yearned to be wanted there, to be greeted with a smile or at least a warm phrase.

You knocked on the door. Your heart jumped as you heard movement from the other side.

Damian swung the door open. He bobbed his mouth open and closed, then, avoiding your eyes, asked, “What do you want?”

You didn’t know where to start. “Can I come in?”

He shrugged. You hesitated until he moved away from the door — he left it open for you, allowing you to close it behind you.

You should’ve expected him to have a dorm all for himself, but what surprised you the most was how good it smelled.

“Your friends are worried about you.” He didn’t react to your comment and you almost added that you were too. Instead, you admitted, “Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“They think you’re being dramatic,” you honestly explained, “but you said you’d go to the party with them and didn’t so...”

“So instead of asking me why, they sent you.”

Fuck, he didn’t want you there.

“Have you ever considered that they’re scared to anger you or something like that?”

Damian reached over and closed his laptop. You hadn’t even realized it was on his desk. “They don’t like me, you said it yourself,” he reminded you.

“I didn’t mean that,” you blurted. “I... I just said it because you were being a dick.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Jon likes you.”

“Jon is always busy.”

You walked yourself into that one. You also walked yourself into this awkwardness and into liking him. “Maybe if you tried to be more approachable...”

Like he had been with you when you visited your grandma, preferably. No — you didn’t want him to try to kiss other people.

“I need them to respect me,” he explained as he closed the blinds, “if that means not being liked by them, so be it.”

“Why are you here and not with them, then?”

He finally stopped avoiding looking at you. “Why are you here is a better question. I know they invited you too.”

“I have work tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Saturday.”

Aaaaaand he knew your schedule.

“Shouldn’t you be out in the streets?”

“I have the night off.”

Oh. You never imagined he would have those.

“I, uhm... Okay! I told you what I needed to tell you already so I better get going.”

“Answer the question first.”

“They’re your friends, not mine.”

“They like you.”

You nodded. “Good night.”

He grabbed you by the wrist. “Wait.”

“What?”

“I don’t know.”

“If you don’t want to be alone, I can—“ No, you couldn’t. “I can help you find somebody. I’m sure a lot of people around here are dying to hang out with you.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll just watch a movie or something. My watchlist is looooong.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I know,” you almost whined. “But I don’t want to answer the question.”

“Why not?” he pressed.

Your eyes, not able to hold his gaze or to even enjoy mapping his face, fell onto his grey t-shirt. The clothing item gave you an out. “Your shirt is backward.”

He hummed. “And you’re stalling.”

“On purpose,” you defended yourself.

“You could always lie.”

“You’ll know if I’m lying.”

“Let’s cut the bullshit, then.”

You swallowed your spit along with your pride. “Yes.”

Damian held you by the chin, making you look up. His eyes didn’t stay on yours, they fell to your lips and stayed there. “What’s stopping us this time?”

So you hadn’t imagined things... Thankfully. “A sneeze, maybe?”

He huffed a laugh then immediately turned serious. His nose bumped yours on his way to finally kiss you.

And when his lips touched yours, you cursed yourself for almost depriving yourself of this. You held him by the neck, allowing him to dictate how deep the kiss would go.

The timing felt just right. It would have been fucked to kiss him at your grandma’s when your mom was still dating his dad, and you would have been interrupted if you had kissed him that Saturday you went to the beach with Kori and Rachel.

It was perfect now, alone in his cold dorm, slowly kissing his soft lips as he cupped your cheek.

You dropped your hands to his shoulders and pulled away. “There’s something that should be stopping us.”

He lightly parted from you, frowning.

“My mom doesn’t like you anymore.”

Worry disappeared from his semblance and he rolled his eyes. “I don’t care if she doesn’t like me, I’m not trying to get with her.”

Your fingers brushed the seams of his t-shirt. “Your backward shirt is driving me crazy.”

“Is that it or do you want to take it off?”

You couldn’t hide your surprise at his flirting.

“I don’t mind,” he nonchalantly said. He cracked a smile at your disbelief.

“You’re an idiot.”

He grabbed your face and brought you in for another kiss.

Damian placed his free hand on your lower back and pulled you closer. The warmth of his palm was short-lived. “Am I allowed to do that?”

You nodded, pressing your lips to his again in a short kiss. “You don’t have to ask. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.”

Humming, he wrapped both arms around you. “I will too.”

You liked that you didn’t have to ask him to do so.

“Which movie were you going to watch?”

“I don’t know. There are hundreds of movies on my watchlist.”

He kinked an eyebrow. “Hundreds?”

You defended yourself from his judgment, “Many movies have been made in the history of humanity.”

“You can’t watch them all.”

“But I can try!”

“Why?”

“Because they’re cool.” Before he could retaliate, you added, “You have easily fifty books on the shelf behind you.”

“Fair enough.”

“What’s your favorite genre?”

“Mystery.”

“So predictable,” you teased him.

It was his time to defend himself. “They’re stimulating.”

“Except when they suck because they have so many twists that the plot gets lost.”

“I didn’t say they were challenging. Most mysteries are easy to solve.”

“Oh, boy.” You didn’t know if you were eager to watch a thriller with him or dreading the idea. “Does art bore you or do you enjoy it even though you already have an idea of what’s going to happen?”

Damian tilted his head. “It depends. Tropes exist inside of genres and I don’t have a problem with that, but some genres are more repetitive than others and that’s what bothers me now. I hated everything when I was younger.”

“I assume since then you’ve read and watched the classics?”

“Read. I’m not well versed in cinema.”

“I can recommend something if you’re open to it...”

Holding you by the hips, he tugged you towards him as he sat down on the bed. “We can watch something right now if you want.”

You held him by the shoulders, shaking your head. “I should be in bed by the time Rachel is back.”

“There’s no point in hiding things from her,” he warned you. “She’s good at reading people.”

“Did she tell you?”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

You tapped his nose, giggling when he scrunched it up. “That I like you.”

“Oh, you like me?”

“I’m seriously reconsidering it,” you jokingly lied.

He smiled and you found yourself smiling too, watching as happiness livened his eyes up.

You also watched as the smile faded. Damian sighed, holding you tighter.

“I wasn’t making fun of you when I asked if you were scared another friend left you.”

“That was an honest question?”

“I was trying to be nice.”

So you were being the dick all along... “You need to work on your social skills, my dude.”

“I would appreciate it if my girlfriend didn’t call me dude.”

“Did—“

“I said girlfriend, yes.”

“You forgot to ask me.”

“It doesn’t look like I have to.”

The fact that you had just told him your mom didn’t like him anymore and he still wanted to be with you truly amazed you.

Mostly after you stupidly told him his friends didn’t like him.

“Did I ruin your plans?”

“I was just working on my laptop.”

“When I texted you,” you clarified.

He lightly nodded. “But it’s fine.”

“Is it really?”

He pressed his lips to yours multiple times. “It ended up well.”

Yeah, it did.

════════════════════════

Contrary to your last relationship, you couldn’t spend as much time with Damian as you wanted. The fact that you liked each other was still surreal, and you wished it was different for multiple reasons, but you also wanted to spend time with him.

He texted you a lot throughout the day and, thankfully, didn’t get angry when you didn’t reply quickly, it just wasn’t the same.

How were you supposed to know if things would work out without being around each other?

And he thought the same. Your first fight happened two days after you became an item because you still refused to sit with his friends when he was around.

Everything was easier when you were dating Nate, even though you hadn’t felt as intensely about him as you did about Damian.

Your mom would have probably liked Damian more than she liked Nate if Bruce wasn’t her ex or if she didn’t know he was a vigilante.

Seeing him around campus and not interacting with him became hard out of nowhere. Why did his usual table have to be so close to your usual one?

He wasn’t helping your case, and part of you believed him to be doing it on purpose.

Leo handed you your refilled water bottle and sat down beside you. “Is Kat joining us today?”

“She’s sick.” You opened your bottle, eyes still on the table nearby.

“Ah!” Leo yelled.

You jumped, splashing water all over your arm and shirt. Putting the bottle down, you hit Leo on the shoulder. “What’s wrong with you?”

He shook with laughter as he closed your bottle for you. “I couldn’t not do it, you gave me the perfect opportunity.”

You stood up, glaring at him. “We should get going.”

You had to walk around Damian’s table. His green eyes momentarily flashed in your field of vision, making you sigh as you turned to the other side with the excuse of making sure Leo was following.

Your friend huffed a laugh, but waited until you were away from people to say, “You’re doing such a bad job at hiding it.”

You wiped your wet hand on your pants. “I can’t help it. I look at him and just want to go there and kiss him until my lips are swollen.”

“Yeah, the first weeks are like that.”

“I don’t remember it being like this before, but you know...”

Leo encouraged you to break up with Nate when you confessed you didn’t really like him. You never told Nate the truth, there was no need, but now you wondered if he had been able to tell.

“If I were you,” Leo started, turning serious. “I would just straight up tell your mom before she finds out through somebody else.”

“Nobody else knows.”

Following Damian’s warning, you told Rachel the truth and made her promise she wouldn’t tell anybody —not even Kori—, then you also told Leo. You knew Damian would tell Jon, so it was fair.

“Everybody can tell you two eye-fuck each other everywhere you go.”

You pinched your nose. “Did he put you up to this?”

“If I had known he wanted to convince you to tell your mom, I would have made him pay me to help him out.”

“Can I pay you to stop?”

“I’m trying to help.”

“Mom is seeing somebody new. I’ll tell her if it works between them.”

He understood you were done with the topic. “We’re filming on Sunday after work. Wanna come with me?”

“Sounds fun. Who’s directing?”

“Wally.”

You would definitely go with him.

The day went by extremely slow. While fewer people meant less work, it also meant a lot of time wasted.

It was worth it in the end. As you waited for Leo to end a phone call, you found a familiar face.

Jason waved at you so you immediately approached him.

“Hi, Jay.”

He brought you into a side hug. “We’ve missed you.”

“I‘ve missed you too. How’s everybody?”

He sighed. “You know... like they always are.” Jason was excellent at lying, but unlike Damian, he gave himself away through his eyes.

You didn’t push him to talk about it, and he almost smiled.

“Dick might propose to Barbara soon,” he said instead.

Damian told you something about that. “Finally.”

Steel-blue eyes bore into yours. “Anything I should know?”

“I’m probably failing statistics.”

“Damian’s good with numbers, ask him to help you out.”

“At this point, I might.” Anything to be around him, honestly.

Jason hesitated for a second before asking, “Do you have somewhere to be right now?”

“I have homework to do, but it can wait. What’s up?”

“Well, it’s kinda silly, but I want to buy somebody a gift and don’t know what to pick.”

“Something useful always does the trick.”

“Help me out?”

You accepted, not before letting Leo know you would be with Jason so he wouldn’t worry.

“Are they into something specific?” you inquired, standing behind him on the mechanical stairs.

“Archery.”

“Something we can find at the mall, Jason.”

He laughed, yet he was able to explain this person’s interests in detail. He didn’t tell you who they were, but you could feel how much Jason cared about them in the way his tone became softer and his eyes twinkled.

Jason took you to campus and insisted on walking you inside. It was dark outside so you were thankful for his overprotectiveness.

“I looked for you everywhere,” Damian startled you by saying, leaning against the wall next to your door.

“What for, Dami?” Jason asked behind you.

If looks could kill, you would already be planning Jason’s funeral.

“Rachel isn’t answering the door and I need a book back.”

Rachel rarely stayed at the dorm on Friday. It was like a ritual between her and Garfield — you had assumed Damian knew that.

“I’ll get it for you, just give me a moment.” You turned to gaze at Jason. “See you soon, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?” you pressed.

Jason gripped your shoulder. “I promise.”

You watched him leave, pleased with having helped him with something so important.

Damian followed you inside the dorm, looking around much like you had done with his.

You dropped your backpack next to your desk and spun around to check Rachel’s.

“What did Jason want?”

“Help to choose a gift.”

He walked towards your bed and sat down.

There were no books on Rachel’s desk so you would have to text her. “What’s the book called?”

“I don’t lend books.”

“Then why—“ you interrupted yourself. “What did you need?”

“I was worried about you.”

Oh. “I probably should have texted you.”

“You think so?”

You bit the inside of your bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”

“I almost called your mother.”

“I’m—“

“Stop apologizing!”

“You didn’t look around the mall... did you?”

He shook his head. “I asked Wally to text Leo.”

“God, that must have been awkward.” You sat beside him. “I’ll tell you next time.”

Damian threw his arm around your shoulders. You snaked his waist with your arm, not knowing what else to do or say.

Peaceful silence enveloped you both. The rhythm of his breathing combined with your heartbeat were the only sounds you could pick up.

You wanted to lean onto him, to rest your head on his shoulder and stay there until he had something better to do, but you didn’t know if he would be comfortable.

Ruining such a moment to ask wasn’t worth it. You could always ask later, you were sure.

“I have to go,” he softly announced.

You nodded. “Be careful.”

He didn’t move so you didn’t either. The wind whistled outside, and you could hear the leaves collide against concrete, dancing around as the weather started to change.

“I have to go,” he repeated, this time firmly. You removed your arm from his waist, making him withdraw his own from your shoulders. His eyes fell on you once he had stood up. “I’ll leave the door unlocked in the morning.”

“Okay.”

Damian rested his hands on your shoulders and leaned over. You expected him to kiss you on the lips, but instead, he left a tender peck on your forehead. “Don’t stay up too late,” he whispered.

If he didn’t want you to stay up late, he should have had mercy on you. How were you supposed to focus on homework or sleep when your heart was still hammering in your chest?

You managed to slip into Damian’s dorm before 10:00 AM. With the number of people you had to avoid, getting there should have been considered a miracle.

“I thought you’d be here by tomorrow night.”

You didn’t appreciate Damian’s sarcasm. Not this early after having a terrible night’s sleep.

Approaching his desk, where he was sitting typing on his laptop, you defended yourself, “I’m not good at sneaking around.”

“I have the perfect solution for you.”

Ignoring his comment, you handed him a bag of spicy dried mangoes. You grabbed him by the face and planted a kiss on his lips.

Damian placed a hand on the back of your head, stopping you from pulling away as he asked, “Are you trying to bribe me?”

“Is it working?”

“I won’t confirm nor deny.” He twisted on the chair, sitting with his side against the back of the chair.

“It’s not a no.”

Dropping the bag you had just handed him onto the desk, he cupped your cheek with that hand. “You think you’re so clever.”

”Aren’t you busy?”

“No.” He brought you in for another kiss, a proper one.

You dropped your hands to his neck, slanting your head so you wouldn’t hit him with your forehead.

Damian broke the kiss. “Did you finish your homework?”

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

You clenched your jaw. “Yes, Damian,” you gritted. “Who do you think I am?”

“Rachel said you’ve been struggling to focus.”

“I didn’t know you asked about me that often.”

“I didn’t have to. She said she was worried about you.”

“I’m scared,” you confided him. “I like what I’m studying, but what then? What’s the best way to help people?”

Damian scoffed. “The first semester isn’t over yet and you’re already thinking about that.”

“Everybody else has it clear.”

“Is that it or do you regret staying?”

“I don’t regret staying. I might start if—“ you stopped yourself before you would say something you didn’t mean. “What will I do if I end up disappointing my mom?”

He wrapped his arms around your plump waist, bringing you closer. “You didn’t tell me she was against you studying sociology.”

“She isn’t.”

Your mom was clear from the beginning, she was okay with you studying whatever you wanted as long as you didn’t make her throw money to waste.

Her stance shocked you at first, mostly because not even your aunt was as lenient with her children, but the more you thought about the way she was raised, the less it surprised you.

“Mom and dad fought a lot when he wouldn’t charge people,” you explained. “My dad helped tons of people. And I want to do the same, but I hate lawyering, I hate that some laws are cruel and don’t make sense.”

“You could prepare people to navigate the legal system,” Damian suggested. “Or you could switch to medicine.”

“It’s way more expensive, time-consuming, and—“ You sighed, avoiding his face. “I remember the pity in the doctor’s eyes when we were told there was nothing anybody could do for my dad. I would rather have no future than give that look to somebody’s loved one.”

His embrace tightened around you.

Oh no.

You took your hands off him. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“What did you do?”

“This has to be the most unappealing thing ever.”

Who would ever like somebody who didn’t know what they were doing? Definitely not him who had it all sorted, whose determination made his eyes shine.

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“You’re right, you haven’t seen me cry yet.”

“Let’s keep it that way.”

“At least you’re honest,” you mumbled.

It would be best to just leave. This was enough for one day and you didn’t want to fight right now.

“I didn’t—“ He stood up, holding you firmly, forming an x with his arms against your back. Damian clarified, “I would prefer if you didn’t feel compelled to cry.”

“Sorry.”

“I didn’t explain myself properly.”

“No, it’s my fault.”

“I should have known how it would sound.”

“We’re both at fault, okay?”

Damian nodded. You rested your forehead on his chest.

You wanted it to be awkward, to feel wrong, but you felt so comfortable against him, with his hands on you.

“Can we try...” he trailed off. “It might be a bad moment, forget about it.”

“Why don’t you tell me what you want to try first?”

“Cuddling,” he answered under his breath.

You weren’t expecting that. “Sure.”

“Just like that?”

“I’m never going to say no to physical contact.” You moved away from him and motioned for him to get in bed. “Lay down.”

Damian laid on his back, arms at each of his sides. His eyes were on the ceiling, avoiding you as you approached the bed too.

You rested your head on the pillow, laying on your side, facing him. “We don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable,” you assured him.

“I’m not. Get closer.”

It took you a moment to move so he shifted to gaze at you. He opened his arm, fully inviting you to snuggle him.

Your cheek ended up on his pec. Damian opened his legs so one of yours would fit between them. As you settled, you draped your arm over his torso.

His blue t-shirt smelled like fabric softener mixed with deodorant. There was a hint of vanilla there, either from breakfast or a moisturizer.

You inhaled deeply, taking it all in. You wished teen you could know she’d eventually get to cuddle Robin. Kinda.

You looked up. “You know—“

As if knowing you were about to say something stupid just to break the silence, he shut you up with a kiss, curling his arm around your middle. You lightly shifted, resting your hand on his chest.

Damian held you by the waist and brought you fully on top of him. Still kissing you, he made you straddle him.

Nobody would have expected him to be so touchy, let alone so quickly, but he wouldn’t hear a single complaint from you.

Breathless, you smiled. “I’m not even going to ask what got into you.”

He was about to answer, but you didn’t give him a chance. It was your time to kiss him, pressing yourself against him as he dropped his hands to your hips and finally let you dictate the pace of the kiss.

“I like you,” he said against your lips.

Bringing a hand to his face, you traced his cheekbone. “I like you too.”

“How did you know?”

You squished his face. “You’re such a curious gremlin.”

“Tell me.”

“I just did. It was easy to know.”

“That’s not a proper answer.”

“I get crushes easily, I’m sure you knew that already.” He hummed under you. You twisted your mouth, hesitant — you didn’t want to come off too strong. Then again, he decided that you were a couple not even ten minutes after your first kiss. “I might have skipped that step with you.”

He slid his hands to your back, trailing them up and down, encouraging you to say what you wanted to say.

And so you did, amusement clear in your voice, “One day you’re not that annoying, and the next thing I know I’m trying to find somebody to date who isn’t you because I hate dating people I like.”

“I would have ruined your relationship either way.”

You adored the way he said it, easily like it meant nothing and determined like he wouldn’t rest until he achieved it.

“I didn’t know that at the time.”

“It was obvious on my behalf.”

“Maybe.”

He stopped moving his hands. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You have everybody’s attention all the time. Nobody, not even you, can blame me for assuming you wanted mine just because it was the only one you didn’t have.”

“I can, actually,” he defied you. “It wasn’t just your attention and you know it.”

“Mmh? What else?”

He rolled his eyes, yet his touch became firmer. “You just want me to say it.”

“I do.”

“I missed your company.”

You gave him multiple short kisses. “I’m so cool you can’t have fun without me.”

“You were supposed to say you missed mine or something of sorts.”

You knew. “Don’t wanna stroke your ego too much.”

“So you missed me,” he boasted.

You feigned a defeated sigh. “Would it make you happy if I said yes?”

“Very.”

“I did. I do the entire week,” you confessed. “Did that sound as clingy as I think it did?”

“I hope not, I miss you every time we are apart.”

You rested your forehead against his. “This is weird, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Damian agreed, bringing a hand up to rest on the back of your head. “I don’t hate it, though.”

Neither did you. Not anymore, not when he was so enthusiastic about it. You were sure nothing could go wrong unless you really messed it up.

And for the first time, you were okay with being the one who had to take responsibility like this.

════════════════════════

You sat under a tree, with a notebook on your lap and a pen in your hand. A few meters from you, Leo talked with his friends.

Wally was late, and although Leo didn’t dare say anything about his tardiness, you knew he was angrier than anybody else.

You planned to finally get the notes you had taken the entire week in order, but you were far too interested in what the group would do now.

You decided to check your phone in the meantime, curious as to what Rachel was doing. Other than being all over Garfield, of course.

She hadn’t texted you, but Damian had.

Do you know any way to track a donated item?

Sorry, I was busy.

To know who donated it?

He replied almost instantly. To know where it ended.

Only if you know who got to hand it away.

You couldn’t help yourself. Why?

Alfred donated something he shouldn’t have given away. I want it back.

Do you know where he donated it to? Maybe it’s still there.

He didn’t say.

What was it?

A paint set.

Do you want me to call a few places? I just need a description and the brand.

Unless you want to call yourself, obviously, but they’ll ask you to leave your contact info in case they’re willing to find it.

Would you do that for me?

Of course.

“Who taught you how to take notes?” An unknown voice asked.

You looked up at the owner of the foreign voice. You’d seen the guy in passing, his dark hair always got your attention, framing his face no matter how hot the day was. His name escaped you now, but you had asked Leo once.

“Nobody,” you answered.

He nodded, making his shoulder-length hair bob. “It shows.”

“These aren’t my official notes,” you defended your messy scribbles. “I take them quickly and then redo them when I have time.”

“That’s a lot of work.” He sat down beside you. His denim jacket brushed your wool-clad arm. “Look up for some templates online and stick to one.”

“Really?”

“My partner uses one and it has never failed them.”

It wasn’t the worst idea in the world. You opened your notes app and typed a reminder which seemed to please your companion.

He introduced himself, “I’m Nick.”

You told him your name as you closed your notebook.

“I know.”

“Leo talks about me, huh.” Dropping the notebook and your pencil case in your backpack, you stretched your legs.

“Yes and no.”

The backpack slipped from your grip at his answer, falling onto your lap with a thud.

He explained his cryptic answer, “My dad’s dating your mom.”

“Oh. I haven’t met your dad so...” You closed the backpack and gently set it beside you.

“I know,” he repeated. “He said they’re taking things slow.”

“Probably for the best.” You couldn’t help but think her relationship with Bruce would have failed even if he hadn’t lied to her. They hurried things up, jumping into a relationship only knowing each other was attractive.

“I guess...” He moved from his position beside you to sit just in front of you. “I thought he’d never find a girlfriend.”

You retreated your legs, crisscrossing them as you shifted. “Is he that bad at dating?”

“The divorce was rough. Dad wanted to keep my brother, but he couldn’t and he got depressed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ah, it’s okay.” He swatted a hand. “He’s gotten better. Plus, he has me.”

You chuckled at that, not sure how to answer.

“Are you coming with us to the graveyard next week?”

“If Leo invites me.”

“He will, everybody knows you’re inseparable. I thought you were dating at first.”

“God, no, we—“

“Are not each other’s type,” he finished the sentence for you. “He told us.”

Now you wondered what —or who— Leo deemed as your type.

“He tried to set you up with Adam here, though.” Nick pointed backward with his thumb. He craned his neck to make sure he was pointing at the right person, and when he confirmed it, he turned back to you. “He almost asked you out.”

You had never seen Adam before, but you could tell why Leo thought you’d like him. He wasn’t as tall as Damian, but you wouldn’t call him short by any means, and his curly hair looked as enticing as his wide shoulders. He seemed like a good hugger

“Awwww, he’s cute,” you gave your verdict. “I would have said yes.”

“This sucks,” Nick whined. “Wally said it was a bad idea so he started dating somebody else.”

“Wally said that?” Nick nodded, making you frown. “Did he say why?”

“He just said it was complicated to explain.”

You continued observing Adam. He didn’t carry himself with airs of superiority, by the way he stood — with open legs and relaxed shoulders— you could tell he was easy to talk to, the kind of person you become close to in a single night, and you seriously doubted he would ever be as interesting as Damian.

What a stupid thing, comparing anybody else to Damian. “I bet it is.”

“Are you a cannibal or something?” Nick joked.

”Let’s go with that.” Cannibalism would be easier to explain than being so into somebody you used to hate.

“Anything weird I should know about your family?”

“Apart from the cannibalism?”

“Duh.”

“Not really. We’re normal people, I guess.” Apart from your grandma’s entire personality, of course. “What about yours?”

“Nah. Unless you think ophthalmologists are weird.”

“Being an ophthalmologist is a tradition in your family?”

“I’m ending it, but yeah.”

“What about your brother?”

“He’s like 10.”

Your phone vibrated in your hand, prompting you to immediately check your messages.

Wally’s phone died. He’s on his way.

You were with him?

Sort of.

????

Why didn’t you tell me?

You didn’t ask.

Tell him to hurry up, then.

He’s not here anymore.

Where are you?

I’m heading to the manor.

Be careful.

You too.

You didn’t know a lot about Wally, but you knew for a fact that he and Damian didn’t like each other as much as they liked other people in their friend group.

Wally arrived sporting a black eye. He sent you a look before even greeting his friends and everything clicked.

Now Damian’s thing about needing to be respected made all the sense in the world, his friends were his coworkers. Kind of.

God, what kind of dynamic was that? More importantly, was he okay?

You wanted to call him, hear from him that he was. He could easily lie to you by text, but you knew every little twinge in his voice.

Still, you kept yourself as busy as you could. He wouldn’t even pick up, so why bother? He had to be okay.

You stood up as Leo approached you, backpack already hanging from his shoulders. They were done.

He intertwined his arm with yours. “Come on, the bus will take long and I’m tired.”

“You go with Nick,” Wally told Leo. “She and I are going to the same place anyway.”

“He’s right,” you assured your friend. “Go straight home and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You sure?”

No, you weren’t, but there was no reason to distrust Wally. “Super sure.”

Leo left apprehensively. If you hadn’t been dying to know a few things, you would have asked Nick to drop you off somewhere near campus.

“Who else?” You demanded to know.

Wally looked away from you. “I don’t know if I should tell you.”

“At this point, I’m just going to assume it’s everybody in your friend group.”

He didn’t say anything. The only sound he made was a pained whine as he leaned onto the lamppost.

“Is your costume cool?”

“The coolest.”

“Doubt it.”

Robin’s had to be the coolest one and you were the coolest person on earth for having him as your favorite, obviously.

“Please don’t tell Leo.”

“I’m not telling anybody.”

Wally extended his arm, offering you his hand. “Pinky promise?”

Your eyes lingered on his pinky finger, wondering why did this seem childish when you always found pinky promises cute. With a sigh, you interlocked your pinky with his. “Pinky promise.”

Relieved, he tried to smile at you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to reciprocate. “So what’s your thing?”

“Speed.”

“Makes sense.”

The bus muffled his words, and while you didn’t really care if he thought you to be right or not, you wanted to know what he said just because you hated not knowing things.

You chose the window seat and rested your head against the window, watching Wally struggle to fit his backpack between the front seat and his legs.

Exasperated, you shook his backpack and got it to a better shape to fit.

He muttered a thank you, then repeated what he said earlier, “Does it really make sense?”

Man, that was underwhelming. “Yeah, you’re late to everything.”

“Why would speed make sense if I’m late?” he wondered, almost to the universe.

“Throws people off,” you plainly answered.

“It’s not intentional.”

“It should be.”

“I’ve heard that one before.”

You suppressed a smile. “Damian?”

“Yeah.”

“You know what they say about broken clocks...”

“I’m surprised the broken clock told you.”

“He didn’t have any other choice.”

You were so glad he hadn’t tried to hide something as important, no matter the circumstance back then. Even if things hadn’t turned the way they had, you would have treasured his secret.

Many pieces of Damian were worth treasuring, you found. His weird tutting you still couldn’t decipher the meaning behind, the way he looked at you through his lashes when he wanted something, his aversion to stickers, the warmth of his touch...

“Is Leo mad at me?”

You brought a hand to your chest, inhaling shallow breaths. “Ask him.”

Wally observed you. He didn’t apologize for scaring you, but he waited for your breathing to even out before saying, “He doesn’t talk to me like he used to.”

“I wonder why,” you mused sardonically.

“I know he’s your friend, but you don’t know my version.”

“You could tell me the saddest story in the world and I’ll still be on Leo’s side.”

“I’m doing it to protect him.”

“It’s like you’re not even trying.” You tsked. “I’ll give you one point for the audacity, but you don’t protect people by leading them on or lying to them.”

Wally’s stomach growled.

“Did you eat anything today?”

“In the morning.”

You rummaged through your backpack, trying to find the bag of chips you had left. “Here.” You handed him the snack. “It’s all I’ve got.”

“Thank you.” Wally took the salt and vinegar chips and popped them open. He offered the open bag to you.

You shook your head. “Want some water?”

He bashfully nodded. You gave him your water bottle — it wasn’t full, but you supposed it was better than nothing.

“I never liked my dorm-mate,” he told you before munching on a stack of chips.

“Oh my God. Are you fake dating him like this is a rom-com?”

“No.” Wally took a sip of water. “Do you think that would work?”

“No,” you snorted. “Wanna know what would work?”

Wally was quite eager to know, nodding effusively and peering at you intently.

“Telling him the truth.”

His body slumped. You almost felt bad for him. “I can’t,” he lamented, you swore he did.

“You don’t have to tell him that truth if you’re not ready, but being upfront with the way you feel is a start. Feelings don’t have explanations sometimes and he knows it better than anybody else.”

“I don’t know how to talk to him.”

“Just tell him to hear you out or text him,” you suggested. “Send him a letter if you pref— oooh, that would be so romantic!”

“Nobody sends letters anymore.”

“Tell that to banks and the government.”

“My handwriting is illegible.”

“Mine is too, but it’s part of my charm just like yours will be part of whether Leo continues liking you or falls for a medic instead.”

”You’re a terrible motivator.”

“I had to have a defect.”

He chuckled.

You hoped things would work out in Leo’s favor, he deserved it.

Rachel wasn’t back yet when you unlocked the dorm, only strengthening your theory that every friend of Damian’s was a vigilante of a superhero.

Welp, there you had somebody else to worry about.

════════════════════════

You left your phone on Damian’s bedside table, standing between his open legs as he reached over to grip your waist.

He kissed you, holding you by the back of your head. You wrapped your arms around his neck in response, feeling him snake his other arm around your waist.

You briefly stopped kissing him to ask, “Did you really make me skip class just to make out?”

“What if I did?”

Yeah, what then? It wasn’t like you didn’t think about it when you missed him.

“Wanted to thank you for finding my paint set,” he sweetly mumbled against your cheek. Damian left a kiss there, then traveled a little lower to your jaw.

“Mmmh. It was nothing, baby.”

Using your hum as an encouragement to go on, he lightly kissed your neck, giving you leeway to push him off you. Something you would never do.

And so he pressed his lips against your skin more firmly.

“Damian,” you sighed. Why, you didn’t know.

“I adore the way you say my name.”

“Yeah?”

He hummed, tugging on your waist to bring you onto the bed with him.

You awkwardly shimmied around, careful that your shoes wouldn’t touch the bed.

Damian hissed, grip on you faltering as he pursed his lips.

“Are you okay?”

He let out a strangled groan. “Yes.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

Damian closed his eyes and sighed. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

You moved off him and kicked your shoes off in order to kneel comfortably on his bed. “What happened?”

“I... miscalculated some things.” His voice carried a pain you were sure had nothing to do with his injuries.

You didn’t push him to speak, instead, you ran a hand through his hair. “Next time tell me, though, I would hate to hurt you.”

“Perhaps I should have thought about that.” He attempted to bring you closer, but you didn’t give in. “There’s nothing severely wrong,” he hurriedly said, “I was just—“

You smiled, now understanding why he was evading your gaze. “You’re so cute.”

Damian gave you a puzzled look. You didn’t dare add anything to your comment and sat with your back against the bed frame.

“Why don’t we wait for you to... get better?” you suggested. “Some rest would do you good.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

“All my ideas are brilliant,” you boasted.

“Half your ideas are decent.”

“Wow, you’re so romantic.”

“Was I supposed to lie?”

You giggled. “No, I’m teasing.”

“You’re good at that.” He slowly laid down, first on his back, then on his side. Finally, he found the position he was trying to achieve and rested his head on your lap.

You softly placed your hand on his head. “Did you get your paint set back?”

“No.”

Your heart dropped. “You could have swapped it for a new one, explain you gave the other away by mistake... It clearly meant something to you.”

“It was a gift from my mother,” he softly explained his attachment to the item.

“Did you give them that detail?”

“I couldn’t bring myself to go in there. Taking a donated item from somebody sounds insidious.”

“I can go get it for you if you want, baby.” You traced his side profile with your index finger, eyes on him as you attempted to gauge his reaction. Assuming you were coming off too strong, you said, “That way you’re not the asshole.”

“You want to be seen as the asshole?”

“No. I would swap it for money or something else they need.”

“You’re insane.” There was no malice in his tone.

Maybe. Or maybe you just hated seeing him sad. You wished you could say it, but he would deny how much it affected him.

“It’s just a paint set,” he said, convincing nobody. “She never asks about it, and I hadn’t used it in so long that Alfred isn’t at fault.”

You didn’t like the way he downplayed it, and for a moment you considered going there yourself and get his paint set back instead of going to work, but you were sure he wouldn’t be happy about that.

You picked your phone to check the time. The text from Leo caught your attention before you could even memorize the numbers on top.

Leo: WHERE ARE YOU

Ah, shit.

“I gotta go.”

“No.”

“Leo is going to leave without me.”

“Stay here,” he insisted, tempting you.

“I can’t not go, I’ll get in trouble. I’ve already been caught texting you a few times.”

“Get a job that lets you text me.”

“Well, I gotta start hunting for an imaginary job,” you told him sarcastically.

Damian laid on his back, watching you put your shoes on. You glanced at him as you stood up, not sure if you should say something.

You decided against it. Words didn’t come, so why force it?

“Be careful,” he told you before you could open the door.

You should have been the one telling him that. Nodding, you told him, “Text me if you need anything.” Knowing him, you felt compelled to add, “Only if you need anything.”

He pouted and didn’t say anything else.

You hated leaving him like that. He wouldn’t hold it against you, at least you didn’t think so, yet you couldn’t help but feel bad that life got in the way of such an intimate moment.

Leo wasn’t mad. At least he didn’t look mad when you reached the meeting point.

“You have a...” Leo pointed at the right side of your neck.

You covered the area with your hand. “Is it too big?”

“Do you want me to measure the circumference?”

You hit him on the shoulder. “I’m being serious.”

“You don’t have anything, I was just teasing you.”

“You’re not fucking funny!”

“And you’re so fucking predictable!” Leo mocked your tone.

Maaaaybe you deserved that one. “Let’s just get going already,” you grumpily said.

He gently pushed you with his shoulder against yours. “You know I’m right.”

“I could have been anywhere.”

“Yeah, just not with anybody.”

Point taken, you were really into Damian.

You got multiple texts throughout your shift. But not all of them were from Damian, Rachel asked you for a few things that made you realize she was hurt too.

Making a detour to get some food for Rachel, you texted Damian to let him know you were out of work.

You didn’t think anybody else could have been hurt when you saw Wally with that black eye, but the sight of Rachel in bandages and an immobilized leg just hours after seeing Damian in pain, proved your wishful thinking naive.

She hadn’t gotten back yet when you left in the morning, so it came as a big surprise.

”Can you sit up?” you asked, showing her one of the bags in your grasp. “I brought food.”

“Give me a second.” She struggled to sit up, but when she did, she gave you a thankful smile. It was tiny, but it was there.

You did help her to eat, not feeding her, but holding the container for as long as she needed.

Rachel took the pills you bought for her next, this time taking you verbally.

“Can I help you with anything else?” You hesitated before saying what you wanted to say, “I’m here if you need to talk about it.”

“It was tough.” Rachel struggled to speak. “We don’t... it’s rare for us to get hurt badly.”

“Is Garfield okay?”

“He’s healing well.” Knowing you’d ask, she said, “Kori’s out, recharging.”

You sat on her desk chair to be closer to her. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Her breath hitched. “Is it bad that I don’t know?” She felt the need to explain, “You aren’t scared of me. I know you used to be into me, and I didn’t want things to change.”

The implication that other people have been scared of her broke your heart.

“You would have to do something super extreme for me to stop liking you,” you assured her.

“I also didn’t want to put you in danger, but I guess you were in danger the second Damian set his eyes on you.”

Well, what was life without danger?

════════════════════════

“Are all your assignments this boring?” Damian asked in your ear. He rested his chin on your shoulder so he could see the screen, ignoring your warnings that he would grow bored.

“I told you, twice, that you wouldn’t like this.”

His grip on you tightened, hands on your stomach as he hid his face in your neck. “Go on, finish it.”

“You’re distracting me,” you complained.

“I’m not doing anything,” he replied, lips brushing your skin.

You would never focus with him around. He was far too touchy and pretty to be ignored.

Closing the laptop, you moved away from his lips and kneeled on the bed to place the computer on your desk.

Damian momentarily let go of you and stood up. You looked up at him, curious.

“Lay down.”

“My bed’s too small.”

“You’re the one who said you wouldn’t concentrate in my dorm.”

Touché. You laid on your side with your back against the wall. Damian mirrored your position, facing you.

His hand rested at the height of your waist while you placed yours on his bicep.

Bringing you closer to the edge of the bed, he rolled you over so you’d be lying on your back.

He grinned at you and leaned in. The assurance his lips brought you, that he thought about being with you as much as you thought about being with him, was everything you needed to bury your fingers in his hair and bring him flush against you.

Damian made you lift your legs, caressing your thighs as he pried your mouth open with his tongue.

You tasted something sweet in his tongue, a mix of fruit you were adamant about picking up on individually. Mango was definitely there, and you weren’t surprised — was the other blueberry?

Air was running low, and the sound that left your throat upon feeling him fit himself between your legs couldn’t have been human.

There was no way to have him closer that didn’t include taking his clothes off, and you weren’t sure if those were his intentions or not until he snuck a hand under your t-shirt, cold fingertips tickling your belly.

Pulling away from his lips, searching for air, you found your touch growing firmer on him. He didn’t flinch this time, there was no pain. Relieved, you kissed his jaw.

The hand on your thigh tightened, grabbing at you. Taking it as encouragement, you kissed the side of his face and neck.

Damian held you by the hips, manhandling you to a sitting position.

You kissed your way down his throat. “You’re lucky I’m not wearing lipstick,” you said, bottom lip grazing the neckline of his shirt.

“Or unlucky,” he said. His voice was deeper.

“You like the idea of having lipstick all over your white shirt?”

“Your lipstick.”

God. Who would’ve thought he would be like this?

He lifted your shirt up to your breasts and waited for your reaction. You allowed him to take it off, deciding that you could get even at any moment.

You didn’t have time to do so. He was quicker than you, so eager that he didn’t even allow you to admire his naked torso.

He kissed you heavily and impatiently, pushing you to a lying position once again. Your hands went to his hair as you met his intensity with your own.

He was warm against you, coaxing you into his affection to the point that you melted.

Your cellphone rang, reminding you that you never changed the ringtone. Withdrawing a hand from Damian’s hair, you reached out to take the device.

Pulling away from kissing you, he dragged his mouth down to your neckline. “Don’t answer.”

“I’m just—“ He interrupted you by leaving a kiss on the valley of your breasts. “Fuck. Behave, it’s my mom.”

“Tell her you’re busy.” His comment was muffled by your skin as he nuzzled his face against you.

“Doing what?”

“Me.”

Ignoring his suggestions, you took the call. “Hey, mom, I’m kinda b—“ Your blood ran cold. “Here where?”

Damian lifted his head at that.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Against your wishes, you pushed him off you. “She’s outside.”

He handed you your shirt, unable to hide his annoyance by sighing. You caught glimpses of scars and beauty marks as she slid his t-shirt back on.

The sight of his torso covered once again, made you sigh too. Disappointed, you did the same.

“Hurry up!”

You turned to look at Damian in panic upon hearing your mom’s voice. “Give me a second!”

“I didn’t think outside meant on the other side of the door,” he whispered.

“I didn’t either.” You worried at your bottom lip. “Hide in the closet.”

“What are you? Sixteen?”

You didn’t have a better idea than that and he didn’t either.

However, he didn’t give in and instead chose to be the voice of reason, “She’s going to find out one way or another.”

He was right. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, though. “At least let me be the one who tells her.”

He brought a hand to his hair as he nodded and you realized you had messed it up with your fingers. It was his fault, really, who told him to have such nice hair?

Once sure the two of you looked as presentable as possible, you unlocked the door and opened it.

“What took you so lo—“ your mom interrupted herself. “Hi, Damian.”

“Good morning.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I needed help fixing the blinds,” you quickly replied.

“And you called Damian instead of anybody else?”

“He was passing by.”

“I was just passing by,” Damian repeated, mocking you unbeknownst to your mom.

Before you could react, Damian wished your mom a good day and slipped past her. He didn’t leave without telling you, “Next time tell Rachel to call her boyfriend.”

Did he think your mom was dumb or had he not thought his comment out?

“Asshole.”

Your mom jingled her keys. “Come on,” she urged you.

You took your keys and your cellphone. From the corner of your eye, you saw your mom checking the dorm out.

You also realized your bed was not perfectly made unlike Rachel’s. The window was on Rachel’s side. Fuck.

Your mom was a silent driver, yet the silence between you on the way home was too heavy to be intentional.

The house had been deep cleaned recently. It reminded you of when you left your childhood home.

There was a bucket of paint next to the door with two paint rollers on top. You could only hope you hadn’t ruined her plans to paint the house.

Your mom dropped her keys onto the credenza at the other side of the door, startling you.

Her eyes were less sharp than you assumed they would be as you met her gaze.

The moment your eyes found hers, she spoke. “Your door was locked.”

You played dumb. “Mmh?”

She was having none of it. “Why did you lock the door when Damian was in your dorm?”

“Force of habit. Rachel and I lock every time—“

“As amusing as your avalanche of lies is,” she interrupted you, “I want to know the truth.”

“We were hanging out.”

“On a Saturday morning.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sleeping with him?”

It was a trap. You wouldn’t be lying if you said no, you hadn’t slept with him yet. But you knew what she meant.

“N— I—“ Fuck, you needed to get yourself together. “You already gave me the talk when I started high school.”

“Answer the question.” She ended her request with a harsh enunciation of your name.

“I don’t want to talk about whether I’m sleeping with anybody or not.” She surely would understand the topic was awkward.

“I’m not going to judge you,” she said in a somewhat soft voice. “I just want to know.”

Tears threatened to build up in your eyes with a familiar sting. You weren’t ready to tell her, to find how disappointed she was, to hear that you needed to choose between her and Damian.

“What would you do if I was seeing him?” you meekly asked.

“Tell you to use protection.”

“And tell me to not see him anymore.”

“Where did you get that from?”

“You told me to tell Robin to fuck off... you also said vigilantes have to be stopped.”

“I—“ Your mom looked away from you. “I was angry that night. Both nights.” Walking towards the living room, she continued talking as you followed her, “I was the one who saw you with him at the convenience store and...”

“And?” You didn’t sit down, afraid you would have to storm out of the house or something like that.

“It was a long day and you had already lied to me, going to The Narrows just to buy medicine to donate when you know it’s dangerous to be around there.”

“That wasn’t me.”

“Stop lying!” She let out a shallow breath. “Chris called as soon as you left.”

Great, now you couldn’t trust the coolest friend your dad had.

“I wouldn’t have had to lie to you if you didn’t hate helping people,” you defended yourself. “Dad always tried to make you understand—“

She interrupted you, saying, “You never got to know your dad so I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you.”

“I spent more time with him than I did with you.”

You wished it didn’t hurt anymore, you wished resentment could just leave the same way everybody in your life seemed to do — she was your mom, this wasn’t healthy.

But it hurt in such a particular way... you would have given anything for her to love you. Maybe, just maybe, you could have made her like you if you kept your opinions to yourself.

“I’m assuming he told you about his other family, then.”

What was she talking about? Your dad was dead.

“No? What about that he wouldn’t leave you anything when he died because his sons were younger than you?”

Your bottom lip trembled, prompting you to set your eyes on the floral artwork hanging on the wall. God, you hated that fucking painting — it was too small for the space.

“Not even that I would have to pay his debts to the same people your boyfriend punches every night?” she pressed.

“You don’t have to go that far to make me feel bad.” Your voice cracked, but you didn’t cry. Sure you wouldn’t shed tears, you looked at her again.

Your mom slanted her head, analyzing you. Her tone changed, becoming somber. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”

“Come on. Tell me you’re just saying things because you’re angry I’m dating Damian,” you begged her.

She hesitated before shaking her head. “I wasn’t going to tell you like this, but...” she trailed off as you sat down.

“Why would dad owe money to the mafia?”

She rocked your world by saying, “He never went out of the country to get a master’s degree, I don’t know what he did in that time. We agreed that it was better if we lied to you.”

“But it’s a problem when I lie.”

“You were thirteen.”

“And you made me believe my dad was perfect! You let him make me—“ You let out a sob.

“Make you what?”

You shook your head. You didn’t mean it, you didn’t hate her. “Why did you take him back if you knew he had lied?”

“I never knew how to handle you,” she admitted. “He was your favorite so I thought you’d be happier that way.”

So it was your fault... Not only was your mom unhappy because she thought she could make you happy that way, but your dad actually abandoned you.

Feeling abandoned when a loved one died was one thing, but now, knowing you were always meant to be abandoned by him... Fuck, you hated your brain sometimes.

“Is that debt why you broke up with Bruce?”

She shook her head again, this time with more purpose. “I did tell him about it in case something happened to me, and that’s why he told me about Batman.”

It made sense. “How much?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I can give you my salary,” you offered, finally sitting down. “It isn’t much, but I can stop living at campus too and maybe switch schools.”

“No. What would people say?”

“Who cares what people say?! You—”

“I do,” she cut you off, twisting her body to face you. “I know you don’t care if people see you a certain way or not and that’s good, it’ll make your life easier, but I care about what they think of me as a mom.”

“Mom...” You dragged your hand against your face. What was with you and stubborn people?

“I couldn’t give you a loving family, but I’ll give you a career and a future.”

Ah. You would have found her words touching any other day. “You’re overworking yourself for me to end up being a teacher or something like that.”

“A qualified teacher.”

“I don’t want you to end up sick because of me.” You wouldn’t be able to live with that guilt.

“I’m almost done.”

“You should have told me. Everything.”

“I didn’t want you to go through that. You were hard to handle already and I didn’t have time to be there for you.”

You would have understood why she couldn’t spend time with you if she had explained things. Or that’s what you wanted to believe.

You changed the subject, “Were you planning to paint the house?”

“I’m not in the mood anymore.”

You wouldn’t be either. “Which color?”

“It’s a warmer white.”

“Huh.”

“You prefer the colder tone, don’t you?” She sounded disappointed.

“I don’t have a preference,” you felt the need to assure her. “I thought you’d go for something completely different.”

“It is different. The house will look cozier.”

“The house looks like it was staged for a photoshoot,” you honestly said. “But paint can change everything, I’ll give you that.”

“Can we not fight right now?”

“We’re not fighting, don’t worry.” You stood up. “Want anything from the kitchen?”

Instead of saying anything, she followed you. She made a sound as though she wanted to say something, but she didn’t.

You had already opened the pantry.

“Are you on a diet?”

“I haven’t done groceries this week,” she lowly admitted.

You whined. “That explains why you only have protein bars and... mom, these almonds are overpriced, just buy them in bulk from the old lady next to the butchery.”

“I buy everything at the supermarket. It’s easier.”

“At least buy them at Costco.” You closed the pantry and walked towards the fridge. “They have some pretty good deals sometimes.”

There wasn’t much in the fridge. Milk, a couple of eggs, and the overly sweet cooking wine she always bought.

“I don’t have time to go to Costco.”

“You have time right now.”

“You’re insane.”

You lightly smiled. “Not the first time I hear that one.”

“Next weekend,” she promised. “I don’t want to be around people right now.”

You wouldn’t fight her on that. Besides, you had a headache and Costco would be full of kids running around as their parents yell at them. Not fun.

You drank some water in hopes the headache would get better. It didn’t, but at least you were hydrated now.

Your mom was gazing at you, as though memorizing you. It gave you the time to observe she had cut her hair. You felt bad for not seeing it before, for just assuming she would never change her hair.

Back in the living room, she asked, ”Do you still talk to Jess and Nate?”

The dreaded question. Suddenly talking about dating Damian was easier. “No. I sent her a long message, but she didn’t even read it so I just...” You admitted, “I tried to right a wrong and she didn’t let me, what else can I do? With Rachel and Kori it’s different, you know?”

“No, I don’t.”

Oh, you knew she did, she just wanted you to talk to her. You could do that, talking was nice. “I don’t feel like I have to be with them all the time to be their friend. I didn’t know girls could be like that.”

“You would have known if you didn’t refuse to talk to girls in middle school.”

“Kat is also nice,” you said. “We share classes and a route to work. And I think she likes Beyblade, maybe.”

Your mom laughed. She laughed at something you said. Or maybe at you. But it was a genuine laugh!

“I know it’s dumb to still think about Beyblade when I haven’t touched anything in a long time,” you clarified just in case she was making fun of you.

“It’s hilarious that you don’t know if your friend likes it.”

“She talks a lot, but only recently she started to say things. It’s a hunch for now.”

“So you’re giving her time to get comfortable,” your mom asserted.

“Yeah, don’t wanna rush things.”

“You always do. I was terrified when you started dating Nate.”

Your mom loved Nate, that didn’t make any sense. “I thought you liked him.”

“He’s really nice,” she said. “But he can’t have a female friend without falling for her, can he?”

“No.”

“Your dad was the same.”

You didn’t want to ask if she had caught him cheating, or if he had started that other family with a friend-slash-coworker. You didn’t want to ruin the image you had of him, not more than it had already been ruined.

“Well, Nate’s charismatic, I guess.”

“I’m glad you didn’t follow him and Jess to New York City.”

“I’m glad too.”

Gotham was home. Your mom was there, Damian —and Robin— was there, Leo was there, Jason, Cassandra, Rachel, Kori, Kat, Garfield... even Wally was there.

And most importantly, what kind of person would you be if you ran off to try and help people in another city when you hadn’t done the same for your community and city first?

There was a lot of work to do in Gotham. And you would start where things shouldn’t have to be fixed in the first place.

“Can we try again? I mean, I guess it’s not trying again, but you know... have a better relationship?”

Your mom’s eyes lit up and you thought you would cry then and there. “As an act of good faith, tell me, how long were you planning to hide your relationship with Damian?”

Of course she would go straight to the point.

“I don’t know. I told him I would tell you by Christmas, but...” You made a face, not knowing how to explain yourself. “Are you mad at me?”

“I saw it coming.” She said it so easily, so serenely that you almost panicked.

“That’s not true.”

“I know you well, believe it or not.”

“Mom, I couldn’t stand him.”

“Because you didn’t know him.”

“If you want to get back with Bruce—“

“You’re not understanding what I’m getting at.”

You kinda did, you just didn’t like the way it sounded. “I don’t believe in destiny or whatever you’re going to say. And if you are willing to try again with Bruce, I can just...”

“I don’t like the real Bruce and you like the real Damian.” That was her point. “Unless you don’t and you need an excuse to break up with him.”

“I do like him.” It felt like an understatement now, a scary one.

“Well, I like Ben.”

You didn’t know much about Mr. Ophthalmologist. “Should we do a background check on him?”

“Gonna tell your vigilante boyfriend to follow your mom’s new boyfriend?”

“I was talking about googling him or like asking around... but you know what? That’s not a bad idea.”

Your mom glared at you. Yeah, she knew you well — you were serious.

“The couch is uncomfortable,” she complained.

“It’s not made for lounging,” you reminded her. She had gone for a formal living room when she bought the furniture.

“My room?”

You nodded, letting her lead the way.

“Have you made more friends than the ones you’ve mentioned?” she asked, not allowing you to count the steps as you liked to do.

“Not really. I was invited to a Halloween party, but I had work that night.”

Humming, she pushed the door to her bedroom open.

As you sat down at the foot of the bed, she said, “I’ll make you a costume next year, when I have more time.”

“Are you taking fewer shifts next year?”

“Hopefully.” She got rid of her shoes and patted the other side of the bed so you both could face each other while speaking. “I want to start sewing more, maybe sell some pieces, but I need a designated space.”

You kicked your shoes off. “Use my room.”

“I’m not touching your room. It’s yours for whenever you want or need to stay here.”

Kneeling on the bed, you considered other options. “What about the garage?”

“It’s full of stuff.”

“We can do a clean-up in spring or summer. Maybe I can finally convince you to donate some stuff...”

“Instead of sneaking around to donate clothes?”

You looked down at the beige duvet, slowly getting into a sitting position. “I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have discouraged you when I used to do the same.”

Trying to hide your surprise would have been silly. So you didn’t. “Really?”

She rearranged her pillows, resting her elbow in a small one. “My mom and your dad hated it, then you were born and things got heavier so I stopped.”

“I’m sorry I ruined—“

She shushed you. “You didn’t ruin anything. It wasn’t you.”

Fuck, that was nice to hear.

“Gotham wasn’t like this when you were born. It was so much worse... trusting anybody meant putting your family in danger.”

“There are good people here.” The answer came almost like a reflex every time, but every time you believed it.

“Yes, but people in need are willing to do anything to survive.”

“It’s not their fault to be in need.”

“I know.” She was getting exasperated. “Your dad’s job was dangerous enough, he didn’t have the cleanest clients...”

You hated that you were still surprised. Just how well did you really know your dad?

“I used to laugh and joke around all the time,” she reminisced. “I’m sorry you got to know only my ugly side.”

“Hey,” you patted her hand. “You lived with my worst side for years and didn’t kick me out.”

“I didn’t even want you to leave for college,” she reminded you. Now you understood why. “Is the dorm comfortable?”

“It’s not that bad. Rachel keeps me organized.”

“So you’re staying there?”

“Would the money help you out with other stuff?”

“Not if you want to stay. I can manage.”

“I feel like I’m not getting everything I can out of living on campus, but it’s my fault.” That felt awful to say. “I was so scared people would find out I liked Damian that I’ve avoided meeting more people. Well, I’ve interacted with Leo’s friends, but they’re... them.”

The latter part was awful to hear, it seemed. Your mom’s voice cracked when she asked, “Are you that scared of me?”

“I was scared of disappointing you.”

“What a big disappointment, you have good taste.”

You laid your head on a pillow. Finding out that she honestly thought him to be wonderful was startling. You had assumed she was lying just because of Bruce.

“You’re going a little bit overboard,” you said honestly, “Damian’s got his ugly side too. I should know!”

“Do you still fight all the time?”

“We haven’t been a thing for that long, but not at the moment. We’ll see now that we don’t have to hide.” You didn’t tell her how much it scared you.

“Is he a weird boyfriend?”

There wasn’t a way to describe Damian with just one word. Much less Damian as a boyfriend. “What do you mean?”

“Bruce was into PDA, but he was never affectionate in private.”

Well, at least she now knew how it felt. “Damian’s not the PDA type, but he’s been affectionate so far.”

“Really? He hugs you and all?”

“Bruce didn’t hug you?”

“No! I thought it was a family thing.”

You gave her an incredulous look.

“What?”

“Jason is a big hugger, mom.” Not wanting her to reach the conclusion that Bruce had never liked her, you said, “I’m assuming Ben is affectionate.”

She became bashful. “He is.”

“Is he awkward? Nick said he hasn’t had a girlfriend in a while.”

“You know Nick?” Her tone made you suspect she hadn’t met him yet.

“He’s friends with Leo.”

“Ben isn’t awkward, but...”

“Come on, you can tell me.”

“He’s, uh... eager sometimes.”

“Okay, stop, stop. I don’t want details.” You heard her huff a laugh as you searched for your phone. “We should order food or something.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

You lifted your head off the pillow. “Should I be worried?”

“Not that way either!”

“Well, which way then? Is he a loud talker? Does he check your eyes every day after saying hello?”

“Weren’t you going to order food?”

Unbelievable! She was deflecting.

“I got it from you, huh.”

“You did,” she confirmed. “I want Chinese.”

You ordered the food and left the topic to die. She would tell you when she felt like it.

You spoke about school, she spoke about her friends and her last visit to your grandma. Both of you were hesitant to touch upon any subject from earlier.

She paid for dinner, letting you choose, and suddenly the day was over.

“Does Damian know?” Before she could play dumb, you added, “About dad and the debt.”

“He wasn’t there when I told Bruce.”

Well, you would have to ask him directly.

You were supposed to have a great day, to make out with your boyfriend —maybe even have sex— and eat tons of snacks while watching movies until he had to leave.

Now you were on your way to get ready for bed in the room you resented for years because you didn’t want to leave your childhood home. The house where the children your dad loved and cared for lived at.

════════════════════════

The white door bothered you. Why did it have to be white? Why not chestnut or pine? White. Such a stupid color for a dorm door.

You knocked on it without any other warning. You usually texted him, and if you had made a stop at your dorm you could have charged your phone and actually just done that, but alas.

Damian almost ripped the door, pulling it open with such harshness that you considered letting him be. His shoulders slumped when his eyes fell on you.

He stepped to the side, inviting you in. The clock on his nightstand read 6:38. Did you wake him up?

His desk lamp was the only light in the room, but you would have known his eyes were you even if the room was pitch black.

He broke the silence you were desperate to retain, “Is something wrong?”

“No. Go back to sleep.”

“You look upset.” His amalgamated accent was more prominent when he was sleepy.

“And you look tired.”

He didn’t deny it. Damian deliberately ignored your counterargument and insisted on focusing on you, “Did your mother do anything to you?”

You couldn’t answer his question verbally. For some reason, you always felt compelled to talk and talk around him —to overshare, better said—, and right now you were desperate to speak, but not a single word came out.

It only made him worry more. He approached you slowly, analyzing you, giving you space to push him away. You didn’t move.

Damian cupped your face with both hands, making you lift your head.

“Not hurt,” you assured him.

“I don’t buy it. You look sad.”

Why did he have to know you so well?

“I found out some stuff about my dad that makes me feel... guilty.” You took a deep breath. “I grew up thinking my mom hated me and my dad loved me and now it feels like he was just trying to get me to resent mom because he resented her.”

Damian dropped his hands to your shoulders and brought you into his chest. He didn’t speak, he didn’t think you needed to hear him right now.

But you always did, so you tried to put the topic to rest. “Mom’s okay with us dating, though.”

He softly said your name. “I’m not going to think any less of you if you cry.”

“I do want to cry,” you admitted in the safety of his embrace, “but I can’t. I’m... I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

“You are in shock.”

“I guess.”

“Do you want to watch a film on my laptop?”

“No. Can you... can you just hold me for a little bit?”

Unlike you, he didn’t hesitate, “Of course.”

You inhaled his scent. He had taken a shower not long ago and the soap’s fresh scent lingered, mixing with the strong body spray he insisted on using. He once said something about feeling cleaner after spraying some, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him he was being paranoid and using too much. He smelled good either way.

Soon you started talking, telling him exactly what your mom had told you — the sun was up when you finished, and your stomach burned with anger again.

“Parents aren’t always what we think,” he lowly said, making you feel the rumble of his voice in his chest.

“This is a bit much.”

“It is.”

“Do you think he took them to the baseball park too?”

“Stop.”

“I bet he took them to the movies when he said he didn’t have time to take me.”

“Hey,” Damian sternly exclaimed. “I told you to stop.”

You looked up. His jaw was clenched, eyes on the wall behind you. He held you tighter, and slowly gazed at you.

“I’ll take you to the ballpark and the movies every week if you want,” he said, voice laced with determination. It had never sounded sweeter.

“I would rather do something you like or anything that’s not just being inside this room,” you confessed. Spending time with him was great, and you would rather spend weeks entrenched in a room with him than without him, but a change of scenery was needed.

“Sounds great.”

Yeah, it did. You were sure he would come up with something interesting on his own — and if that failed, you were full of ideas.

Damian kept an arm around you as he guided you towards his bed. If he wasn’t going to sleep — which he didn’t mind— he would at least rest his body.

You sat beside him while he laid down. His hand rested on your thigh, reminding you that he was still willing to listen.

“Did you know?” The question came out before you think it through.

“Did I know what?”

“About my dad.”

“No.”

That wasn’t the answer you were expecting. “Bruce did.”

“My father only tells me what he deems necessary.”

“I’m not gonna get mad if you knew.”

“I wouldn’t hide something like that from you. I couldn’t even hide I’m Robin.”

“That’s different.”

“You might be right, but...” He squeezed your thigh. “I just wouldn’t hide it, okay?”

You hummed.

“Look at me and tell me you believe me.”

You didn’t like the desperation in his voice. Twisting your body, you gazed into his tired eyes. “I believe you.”

The change was instantaneous — his blinking slowed down and his eyebrows relaxed.

“I haven’t hidden anything from you since that night.”

“I’m sure there has to be something. That’s okay, you know? You can have secrets, things just for you and your conscience. It’s a nice feeling.”

“Anything important,” he clarified.

That sounded more like him. “We should be celebrating that my mom didn’t strangle me or something.”

He rolled his eyes, pursing his lips to hide his amusement. “I’m sure it wouldn’t have come to that.”

“Eh.” You shrugged. Twenty-four hours ago you didn’t know as much as you did now, he couldn’t blame you for assuming the worst. “She couldn’t hate you forever either way.”

“Am I that irresistible?”

“Sadly.” You laid on your side, relieved to have gotten the question out of the way. “She also wanted a son, not a daughter.”

“She told you?”

“She didn’t have to say it. I hadn’t had a close female friend until Jess, so I could see it in the way she treated my friends.”

He hummed, sensing you weren’t done, sensing you already had an idea as though what he would start wondering soon.

And you had an idea, you would have had the same query. So you answered before he could finish forming the thought, “Dad would say he never had a preference every time I asked him, but... well, now I don’t know if he was being honest or not.”

Damian’s eyes betrayed him every time curiosity overcame him, perhaps his most attractive attribute.

This time was no exception. He let go of the dull empty facade of his eyes —a facade you had always envied— and asked, “Would you have a preference?”

“I don’t plan on having children.”

“It’s just a hypothetical question.”

“I would prefer to have a son,” you confided him.

“I thought you would say the opposite.”

“Yeah, I would have thought so too.” Unprompted, you explained your logic, “I wouldn’t know what to do with a girl. The world is easier to navigate for boys already, perhaps my chances of traumatizing a boy would be lower.”

“You’re a caring person.”

“I’m a hypocrite,” you reminded him, “you’ve said it yourself.”

Your intention wasn’t to leave him guilt-ridden or to make him apologize. Why would it be? You knew him better than you knew yourself, he said it because he felt that way, because in the depth of his soul he knew you better than he knew himself, too.

“I know you meant it,” you assured him, “and I need you to know I don’t resent you for thinking that way.”

“I did mean it back then.” He placed a warm palm on your cheek, prompting you to lift your eyes and gaze at him. “I’ve been a hypocrite, too. And a cynic most of my life.”

What a stupid juxtaposition. So fitting for the petty fire he ignited inside you when you met him.

“Do you miss it?” you asked as you gave into his touch. “Hating me, I mean.”

“Sometimes.” Damian’s thumb traced your bottom lip. “It made some things easier.”

You laughed. “Like what, baby?”

His thumb slipped as he squirmed, pulling your bottom lip down.

“You can tell me if you don’t like being called baby, I won’t get offended.”

He moved his hand to the side of your neck. “I like it.”

“You sure?”

“A lot,” he quietly admitted. “Maybe a bit too much.”

“Baby.” You placed your hand on his cheek. “Baby.” You got closer to him. “Baby. You then kissed his nose. “Baby.” You also briefly kissed his lips.

Damian laughed this time, bringing his other hand up to keep hair off your face. His touch was gentle and warm, just what you had been seeking when you decided to leave home in the dark.

You unabashedly stared, letting your eyes admire the face you called ugly many times before.

“You’re so pretty,” you said breathily. “I know you hear it a lot, but you are.”

He took a shallow breath in. “I’ve never been called pretty before.”

What a shame.

“Well, you’re a pretty baby.”

He half-heartedly scoffed, but the blush on his cheeks betrayed him.

“I’m so glad we had to spend the entire summer together,” you freely told him. If only past you knew how much you meant it...

“I am too.”

“Of course you are, you have the coolest girlfriend ever.”

He squished your face. “I do.”

“You think I’m cool?” you teased him. “You got a crush on me or something?”

He slid his hand back up to your cheek and softly grabbed your face. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late. I’m on top of the world, I own the universe, God fears me.”

“Do you have space for anybody else?”

“Only if they’re you.” You became frozen as soon as the words left your mouth. Shaking your head, you said, “That was disgusting, what are you doing to me?”

“At least I’m not the only pathetic one.” He playfully squeezed your cheeks.

“I hate you.” Your quip came out muffled due to his grip.

“Uh-huh. I’ll pretend I believe you.”

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x plus size reader

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