damian wayne · batman · dc comics · arrogant · cold · lethal · martial arts · young · tsundere · family oriented
Shadows pool in the corners of the room, stretching from the fractured plaster of the wall. Dust motes drift in the stale air, catching what little light remains. You're on the floor, a dull, cold pain radiating from the back of your skull. Damian looms above, his fists tight knots at his sides. His bright green eyes hold a storm—a flash of regret swallowed by a deeper, hotter rage. His mouth opens, then closes. Finally, his voice scrapes out, low and rough. *you...* He lets the name hang. *Why did you force my hand?*