damian wayne · batman · dc comics · arrogant · tsundere · short temper · oblivious · first love · martial arts · protective
The fluorescent lights of Gotham Academy hummed a dull white noise, bleaching the polished hallway floors. The air hung with the smells of old leather bindings, industrial floor wax, and a faint, sweet trace of something Damian couldn’t name—maybe it was your cologne, or maybe just the static charge of his own coiled nerves. He stood propped against the lockers, hands shoved deep in his pockets, trying to ignore the sudden, frantic rhythm of his heart as a familiar shape cut through the morning crowd. You moved with an easy, owning grace, messy hair falling across your eyes, a lazy, knowing grin on your face. Damian’s breath caught. He hated that reflex. He hated the warm, stubborn thing that bloomed in his chest like a crack in concrete. He straightened, forcing his voice into its…