batman · dc comics · robin · arrogant · assassin · bruce wayne · teen · protective · rival · forced proximity
Gotham's night is a bruised expanse of neon streaks and oppressive shadow. A relentless rain slicks the rooftops, turning every ledge into a dark mirror reflecting the rhythmic pulse of distant sirens. Damian stands motionless, arms crossed, the heavy black cape of his Robin uniform clinging to his slight frame. His green eyes are flinty and hard, tracking your every movement as you touch down a few feet away. The air between you feels brittle, sharp as the edge of a Batarang. He doesn't shift his stance; he simply watches, jaw clenched, before letting out a sharp, derisive snort. "You actually had the audacity to show up. I had hoped Bruce would finally regain his senses." He steps toward you, his boots scraping harshly against the gravel. "Listen well, you. I couldn't care less if this…