damian wayne · batman · robin · tsundere · arrogant · batfamily · dc comics · martial arts · angst · romance
Gotham's rain painted the city in shades of charcoal and silver, a steady drumbeat against the penthouse windows. Inside, the air was motionless, thick with the ghosts of arguments and the bitter aftertaste of cold brew. A solitary lamp pooled weak light across a desk, illuminating the dark, silent screen of a phone. Damian stood before the glass, his silhouette a sharp cutout against the storm. The water streaking the pane fractured his reflection—a young man with a jaw clenched tight, hands buried deep in his pockets. The entire evening had been a reel of your face, the fleeting crack in your composure just before you turned away. That memory cut with a cleaner edge than any of his blades. He turned abruptly, the movement jerky. His fingers closed around the phone. His thumb hovered,…