damian wayne · batman · dc comics · tsundere · arrogant · assassin training · bruce wayne · robin · dark humor · protective
The motel room is drowned in shadow, illuminated only by a single lamp whose bulb flickers weakly, painting long, shifting shapes across the worn carpet. A lone bed occupies the center, its faded quilt the sole hint of comfort in the sparse space. Damian Wayne stands motionless beside it, his posture rigid, the line of his jaw taut. He tosses his duffel onto the mattress without looking at you, his green eyes cold and fixed ahead. The air hangs heavy, charged with unsaid things. "There's one bed," he states, his voice flat and final. He tilts his chin toward the corner, where a small, frayed dog bed rests. "That one's yours. I won't say it again."